#this happened some years ago when i watched the first (and only :/) season of...what was it. The New Normal? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ophelieverse · 6 months ago

Note

please please please i need you to write something for my man Aegon I love how you write for him😭

➳♡before fire takes it all

Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

-summary:normally Aegon would ignore Helaena and her strange behavior but,since his wife Y/n got pregnant,he can’t help but think about the words his sister said the moment he announced the news.

-warnings:set in season 1,pre blood and cheese and luke death,teen pregnancy(both Aegon and reader are sixteen),talk about child death,Aegon being paranoid and keeping secrets,Helaena predictions,classic asoiaf warnings,reader can be of whatever house you want.

-thank you so much for the request and let me know what you guys think,send you all my love🩷

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It hurts.

Love,Aegon thinks.

Love hurts.

His heart bursts,his heart explodes,his heart climbs down his throat and assaults his temples, squeezing and compressing them until his eyes darken,until it scars the tormented irises and pupils.

Loving too much is fatal.Or not?

Isn't that so?

Live well,live badly.Does he lives at all?

“I don't know”,his conscience responds.

Aegon would like to know,but he doesn’t know.He doesn’t even think he knows what the right way to live is anymore,he’s terrified that he doesn’t know what it means to live anymore.

How can he live?How?

How can he pretend that everything is alright?That everything,in the future,is going to be alright?

Normally Aegon wouldn’t think about these sort of things,he used to live day by day dictated by his own selfish desires.But since he had got married two years ago,something in him changed completely.He started to understand what it meant to love and live for someone else,to wake up every morning early to just watch her sleep so soundly next to him,to stay sober at every hour so that he could remember her kind words,her sweet face and calm voice.Wanting to be a different version,a better one,of himself only because she showed him that he deserved happiness and love like everyone else and in return he only wanted to give her the best he could.

But golden necklaces,earrings,beautiful flowers and the most expensive dresses could not fill the hole that was slowly opening under their feet,a hidden tragedy ready to swallow them whole and to break their hearts and souls forever.

Aegon wasn’t one to listen to his family,he longed for his mother love and his father attention,he despised his older half sister,made fun of his younger brothers and mostly ignored his other sister.Only this time,something happened,something made him look in Helaena direction for the first time and his ears had caught every single word that she had whispered to herself.

His wife,Lady Y/n,the most beautiful and kind woman,a innocent young girl with a heart too big for her body,was pregnant.It was true,what they said about expecting women,she was glowing like the most precious diamond and her happiness about becoming a mother,the mother of the lover of her life child,couldn’t be contained by her shiny eyes and big smile.

«The Maester said that signs suggest is going to be a boy.»Aegon had announced one day at the breakfast table.

His mother had smiled kindly and Aemond had nodded giving his shoulder a warm squeeze.It was still too early in the pregnancy to understand whether is was going to be boy or a girl,but still Aegon had hoped that the Maester was right.Having a son was a dream that he never dared to imagine or to say out loud until then,the living proof that he was going to be better than his father ever was for him.

Helaena was sitting next to him,quietly playing with a wooden butterfly,all lost in the secret gardens of her mind when she muttered something: «A son for a son.»without even understanding her own words.

As their mother and brother were talking,Aegon turned slightly toward her.Usually he wouldn’t pay attention to his sister and her strange behavior,he was disgusted by all of those insects that she so lovingly brought everywhere like some pet on a leash and he was so relieved when his father had betrothed him to Y/n instead that her.He wouldn’t even lister or look over her if in the past,her silent words of warning weren’t revealed to be the sour truth.Aemond had lost an eye just like she had said.Maybe if back then he had listened to her,he would have helped his brother and nothing would have happened.

«What does it mean?»Aegon had whispered to her confused.

Helaena wasn’t looking at him,her fingers gracefully tracing the toy«They only want the boy,not the girl.»she said as if she didn’t heard him,nodding to herself.

Aegon left the spoon that he was holding,a sensation of nausea was crawling up his stomach,his heart beating faster«The boy?My boy?Who wants him?»he asked.

His sister stayed quiet,every second felt like an agony for him.His mind became of stone and a part of his was laughing for the fact that he was actually really listening to her,to her crazy words and empty head.But still,something,maybe his father instinct that was already part of him,told him that what she was saying was another dark truth.

A boy and a girl,she had said.He was going to have both,twins.He couldn’t even imagine it,praying that they would take after their mother soft and gentle spirit but also his fierce nature.Y/n would have been delighted to know that they were about to have twice of the love,but what would she said if she knew that someone wanted their son?

«The rats.»Helaena answered then,her eyes bore holes in his as she turned to look at her older brother,shiny lilac flowers watered in fear and condolences.

It had been months since that conversation and Aegon couldn’t stop to think about it.Every night,as he watched Y/n sleep next to him while he so gently caressed her belly where two new lives were growing,he could still feel his sister horrified stare on him and her heavy words in his ears.

Y/n is talking to Aegon,while they were lying under the covers of their bed.Her head is on his chest,her hair smelled of flowers and peaches,her voice sleepy and always so tender as his hand was staying on her swollen stomach.She's talking to him about her day and he can't listen to her,he can't even see her behind his pale eyelashes that lower,behind his tired eyelids that are threatening to close tightly.

With the fingers of his free hand he massage them,the nail of his index finger finds a tear that was hidden there,at the corner of the right eye,and uprooting it,let it be dried out by air.

Aegon was exhausted.He had difficulty to sleep when every sound made him jump,every shadow in the corner gave him a heart attack.

He would like to stop thinking,he would like to find a way to turn off his mind,to blow up the candle that kept his brain from sleeping and this crazy thought makes him understand that he had become even more incredibly pathetic than he already was.

Aegon was terrorized.If he already ignored Helaena,now he was avoiding her like the plague in fear that she could say something else,or worse,talk about her thoughts to Y/n.

Y/n,his beautiful and sweet wife,already had so much to think about.Being eight months pregnant was taking a toll on her,even though she never stopped smiling,he could see that she was tired and that her body couldn’t bare it anymore.He couldn’t let her worry about something that his weird sister said to him,not when the Maester said that she needed peace,calmness and affection.And even if he hadn’t said that,how could Aegon tell her what was keeping him awake at night?

He set more and more knights to follow his wife around to make sure that nothing happened to her and his children,the Maester came to check on her at least once a day and when he wasn’t with her,his mother would keep her company in the solarium.He had personally hired people to hunt the rats of the Red Keep.Aegon so often dreamed of being just like the armors that Ser Arryk wears,cold, motionless,empty,that he has come to believe that it would be beautiful,it would be fulfilling,to be something without emotions and rest in a corner without light.

Aegon had still to meet his son,both of his children,after he had dreamed of him,of them,for so long.And yet already someone wanted to take his baby away from him.

The flashes of the veins on his forehead tingle and he clash,he crush himself,against an imaginary expanse of water that slaps his brain,crushes his lungs with long ivory tusks,disfigures his face.

Aegon was blocked.

He was stuck in some claustrophobic scribbled box,in a rusty bubble of his faulty soul,and he was afraid see beyond.But he could see the future,the one that Helaena had tried to warn him about.

He could see beyond and,the certainty is disconcerting,he clearly see that the worst nightmare of any human being,what wakes up men in the middle of the night and scares children with simple shadows,is the awareness of being chased:no one can ever escape from themselves,no one has ever escaped from destiny.

Not even him,especially him.

Because Aegon knew already,tasting it on the tip of his tongue,that what will happen is was going to be his fault.Certainly not because of Y/n.

«Am I boring you?»Y/n voice was tired but still sweet«Forgive me,my days are monotonous,predictable and highly boring.»she huffed,caressing his hand above her stomach.

Ever since she had started showing,her husband treated her like the finest and most delicate porcelain.All she could do during the day was read in their chambers,walk through the gardens and pray with the Queen.Not exactly a vivacious life,especially since Ser Arryk followed her every move.

She yawns,she apologizes,and Aegon finally slam the lumpy eyelashes and look at her.

Y/n is smiling,innocent,carrying his children and then his body moves by itself,he act instinctively, and get her closer to him.

A hand behind her nape,a strong and fast grip, almost stuttered,and Aegon feel her words on the palate,he eat them between his lips moving on her open mouth.He kiss her badly,and he hurt himself,he will hurt both of them,he kiss her following the dull rhythm of his ears,he kiss her and he pass the noise of his thoughts to her.

Aegon feels a hole in the center of his throat,a knot of cries,and this makes him sway and covers his eyes with torn red lightning here and there,it breaks his mind.Yet he keep kissing her.He have to kiss her.

Kissing Y/n scratches his soul,kissing her stirs up his fears and reminds him,in the pause of one of her breath,the so natural way in which pleasure and pain mix,get tangled,whenever pieces of skin graze and play with the tongues and crests of a fire.Fingertips caressing purple flames,white sheets reduced to blackened shreds,a plate of ice lying on the jigular.

Kissing Y/n now is like taking a sip of salt.Filling her mouth,having her under his palms,feeling the boiling heat of her cheeks against his nose and against his upper lip.

Y/n forces Aegon to give her every good part of himself,even those he thought were lost by now,and she does it with twisting tongues or with an annoying clash of teeth.All it takes is a simple touch and he’s willing to give her the world.She makes him wanting to be a better person and he so scared to fail her,that he wouldn’t be able to protect her and the most precious things that they created together.

«Aegon.»she whispered on his lips,eyes fluttered closed.

«I love you.»he said without thinking«I love you and our children.And I didn't think I could ever love,not this way.»he confessed,his voice trembling as his mouth was on hers again.

«I love you too.Are you alright sweetheart?»Y/n asked placing a hand on his warm cheek,she could read him like a open book but sometimes even her couldn’t understand him completely.

Aegon wished he could tell her all about what was going on in his mind.To share with her his deepest fears,to let her hold him and tell him that everything is going to be alright and that they will be safe and together for all of their lives.

But when she starts kissing him in a different way,like a helpless girl who would let herself do anything from him,when she starts kissing him with a teenage heat,a heat so in love and so lost, then he would like to do something else.

He would like to yell all the terrible words that Helaena told him,he would like to tug on her and burst her stupid and crazy soap bubbles in front of her eyes and he would like to do it just to remind her who he really was.To remind his sweet Y/n that so willingly loved,accepted and cherished him,that believed that with him nothing could touch her,that he was still a dragon and dragons are known to burn people.

Aegon doesn’t answer her,he just lets his forehead on hers with his eyes closed.

«You don’t have to worry.»Y/n murmured against his skin«You are not like your father and our children already know that,they love you just like I do.»she promised him,their hands interlaced on her belly.

He had voiced his concerns about fatherhood the moment she told him that she was with child,his child.Children now.And she had spent countless nights reassuring him that he was going to be a good father,a better one,unlike his.That he was going to be there for them,but now he knows that he can’t escape his own fate.His father shadow will forever be there to remind him that they are just the same:bound to fail their families.

“Stop it,please.Stop holding my heart so tight in your hands,that's enough.”Aegon thought.

It was in moments like these that Aegon remembered that Y/n was just a girl,a frightened sixteen years old who lives every second with her chest open,her heart too visible to anyone,too exposed.The feelings,the emotions,painted between her bright eyes and lips,make her an easy target,a sacrificial lamb,a too good person who can easily be stabbed in the back.

Her goodness and naivety makes her vulnerable and Aegon knows it,Gods,he knows it.

Because Y/n is not,in the slightest,capable of defending herself,she is not even able to understand the reality of the universe,she does not come to terms with the subtle and treacherous truths.She does not accept the existence of evil in the world,she does not accept the possibility that often what is considered good and right,is not really good,is not really right.

So how could Aegon get her away from the black that drips from his nails,scars,thoughts?Y/n thinks she knows how dark his soul is,she thinks she's got it,but he know she doesn’t.

It will never be like this.

«Aegon.»she calls for him again as soon as she realizes that his mind is wandering too far.

Y/n throws his name on his skin and he swallow the panic that warms his esophagus,which runs through his every rib,as he block her head in his hands,almost in a trap.

Aegon push her to lie on the mattress,make her collapse between the pillows almost as if he had beaten her in a duel,and he hovers on top of her relaxed body,carefully holding her stomach.

Y/n doesn't tremble.

He’s are literally assaulting her and she lets him do it,she agrees,she welcomes him between her legs,in her heart,in her mouth that moves a little away from his and then falls on his eyelids that are still closed.

Aegon wish he could tear his eyes out,blind himself with huge metal spikes.He doesn’t let anyone get so close to him,he’d never done it and now more than before he wished didn’t do it.Because now they would see it,they already saw it.It was evident,under the lights and everyone eyes that his legacy was about to be born and die all in once.

Even the rats will see it.If someone dared to direct their steps towards Aegon,if someone dared even raise their head towards him,they would see his pupils and find Y/n and their children in there.

At the center of all his thoughts,of all his hopes:the end of an entire life that has bent over itself in the hope of scraping together some more time and living it with them.

So what's wrong?What binds his eyelashes in a white spider web?Could Helaena be right or he was being paranoid again?She was right about the fact that Y/n was carrying twins,the Maester had confirmed it months ago,but could she be right about the rest?

Then he felt it,against his warm palm and his heart skip a beat.A little kick,yet strong and determined to be felt.

«Looks like someone woke up.»Y/n giggled,looking down at her body.

«I didn’t mean to wake them.I’m sorry.»is all that Aegon can whisper and he doesn’t even know what he’s really apologizing for.

Y/n listens to him and suddenly recognizes something in the tone of his voice.She relaxes her limbs under him even more,completely wipes away any trace of tension as if someone had just cut the thin threads that moved her body,and she sulks as she touches his lilac eyes that he still deny her,stubbornly.

«Why are you so sad?What happened?»she said,concern covering all her beautiful face.

It’s not what happened,but what could happen.

Aegon forced a smile on his lips«A bad dream.That's all.»he lies,shaking his head.

Thats what he prayed every night,that it was all a nightmare and that he would wake up soon.

Y/n rubs her fingertips on his eyelashes and he feel her lips lying against his cheekbone.She’s smiling.

«Don't worry.I just found the last sleep crumbs that were hiding from you and threw them away. They were the ones who held back the bad dream and now they are gone.»she explained to him,peppering sweet kisses on his face.

Aegon eyelids rise on their own and he clash with the flickering image of his wife looking at him and bringing to his face her index finger on which one of his eyelashes is placed,almost a crescent moon caught in the air and hovering towards the earth.

«Do you want to make a wish?My mother always told me to do it,but I have to admit that almost none of my wishes ever came true in this way. Maybe I was asking for impossible things,out of my reach.Same thing with the shooting stars.Do you want to try anyway?»Y/n was rumbling,now he remembered why she was friends with his sister.

Aegon leverage his elbows,without getting too far away from her and look at her strangely«What?»he asked confused.

His cheeks mottled red and it seems to him that the way she bites her lips is yet another punch against his anesthetized emotions.

«Forgive me,it's such a stupid thing.Please forget it.»and while she is saying it she moves her nail in the act of throwing away his wish that has taken on the common form of a pale eyelash.

Y/n gesture makes the eyelash roll down and it swirls over itself and chases the earth,chases its tail,forms several open circles into which he stick his dream,his nightmare,his hidden thought.

The eyelash is lost on the red carpet and Aegon don't see it anymore.

He look for Y/n gaze again as she pushes him back into kissing her.She asks him,clumsily,to let go of those silly words of hers.The words of a girl that was still too young and forced by her father to grow up too fast,a girl hat was still a child herself with all of her fantasies and fairytales.A child that will raise children soon.

Because Y/n was better than Aegon,she is,even if she doesn't know it,and she showed it to him so many times that he has now lost count of the occasions when he felt at fault.Occasions when he realized he don't deserve her.

Aegon prefer to ignore this reality of the facts,he prefer to put his lips on her collarbone and bite slowly,resume and rummaging through her fertile body,one hand in her hair and the other under her nightgown,and grab as much as much as she offers him.

And Y/n offers Aegon everything,always.

«No wish was ever fulfilled?No one?»the question comes out of his teeth before he can control it,it pours out as his mouth moves over her belly that he suddenly feel quiver.

She is laughing.All three of them are,he realizes as he start tracing with his fingers his children imaginary features on the skin of her stomach.

«Maybe two of them.»Y/n says,referring to the lives she created inside of her«But I found out that my wishes only come true when I look at myself in a puddle.»she laughs again with her mouth open and then moves her head into a pillow.

His fingertips tingle on contact with her skin and his stomach closes into a knot the moment he notice how the intimacy that his movements has turned into familiarity.Because that is what they were going to be soon,a family.

«When did you looked at yourself into a puddle?»Aegon suddenly asked,giggling a bit when another kick met his hand.

Y/n hand found its way into his messy silver locks«The day that my father had accompanied me here for our betrothal.»she tells him,a warm feeling in her chest at the memory.

«It was raining.»he said,he remembered perfectly the first time he saw her.

He remembered her father fussing all over her wet hair,trying to adjust her dress and to make her look presentable.But she was still the most beautiful and vulnerable creature that Aegon had aver seen.A little wet bird in a golden cage.

She nodded«Before entering the Keep i took a deep breath and,as I stared at my reflection into a puddle at my feet,I secretly wished that the husband i was going to have would love him as much as I love looking at the star.»she smiled lovingly down at him.

It came true.Aegon felt his heart exploding in his chest,he loved his wife more than anything in the world.It was so easy for him to love her,how could he not?The thought that she had to wish for something like that,for something that for him was like breathing made his eyes flutter with little tears.

Aegon moved an arm and he already knew that he will hold her hand,remaining palm to palm,as he already know that her fingers will chase his,that they will squeeze,gasps.Wrists banging against wrists,veins in contact.

The time of a whole life that slips away.

«I have never made a wish.»he confessed then.

He just took,he just wanted.

Oh Aegon,what a stupid mistake.

He stole the dreams of his future child,he had plundered entire experiences of the past,and yet he could have simply asked.With courtesy,with kindness.With a little humility.

What a stupid mistake.

«You must have had a really bad dream.»Y/n whispers in her voice broken by his caresses,and then leans and puts her forehead against his as he rise to look at her«But it’s never too late,you can still have your wish.»she reassured him.

No he couldn’t and maybe they should stop talking,stop wasting time.They both should just exchange their saliva and shut up.Pant,moan obscenely and stop everything else.Eliminate among them the layers of soul,the remnants of some childish hopes,and join like empty bags.

It would be better this way,Aegon recognize this too,just below the surface,just below the peel of his chest,at least admit with himself that it would be better that way.He should stop discovering her hips with words,with confessions,with Helaena confusing words,with half-truths:it's too risky.

He should just close himself and unite with her only the bodies,discover the consistency of the painless choices and stay there stationary,inside an empty and deep gap in which the arms and legs move frantically without ever finding anything to hold on to.

This was his life once,before her.

Aegon had endless possibilities of oblivion,between the broken lines of the light palms,he had everything a young,spoiled prince could ask for.

The simplicity of superficial human relationships flowed through the buttonholes of his fingers and he continued to be unhappy,stubbornly perpetuated his pursuit of unhappiness,but he didn't know it,and therefore he really wasn't.

Or maybe yes?Maybe a part of him knew that?Is that why his chest is burning now?Because now he was finally happy for the first time and he didn’t wanted it to end?

Because now Aegon has Y/n and he managed to create something pure and innocent and beautiful with her,giving them all of the good qualities he didn’t knew he possessed.

Y/n seems to listen to his every secret and fear,to feel his breathing change and become noisier,deeper.She place a hand on his abdomen, slowly,she traces with her fingertips first his palm and then also his wrist,then also the blue vein,and repeat his name,repeat his name,repeat his name again.

Aegon enchant himself in front of the movement of her mouth and listen to the ticking of her heart that stretches until it pulls a painful fist on his gums.

He’s an adult now,a husband and a father.He should behave as such and leave the butterflies to the kids and remember that him,in his stomach and belly,only have the worms of rotten apples.

This happens to those who never make a wish. Didn't he know that?

«I would kill for our family,even innocent people if this means keep the three of you safe.»Aegon suddenly said,voicing his thoughts out loud«Would you still love me after that?»the question is sour in his mouth.

Y/n opens her eyelids to the sound of his question,frantically slams her eyelashes,those eyelashes,and swallows with difficulty.The cheeks are even redder and the ears are also red,the eyes are shiny.Atoms of soul and innocence:they agglomerated together and formed her,a little girl composed of glass and cobwebs,bubbles and feathers.

The bravest Lady he had ever met.

«Of course I will love you.My heart is your for eternity.»she replies and doesn't hesitate for a moment«And I would do the same for us.»she added with a whisper.

Her love for him is equivalent to a black hole in which he could immerse himself and observe a boundless horizon of stars broken and stuck in an icy ground.

She loves him.

And she knows that Aegon loves her too.But right now he can't even answer her,to tell her that he’s sorry,that he’s scared,that he reciprocate her feelings with the same intensity or that maybe he reciprocate them in an even more desperate way than her,crazier.He wish he could tell her that he wished they had more time,that he wasn’t who he is,that he wished that they were born in a different place and had different lives to share forever.

Y/n face is beautiful,her forehead is smooth,no flickering lines to scar her tranquility,and the skin near her eyes is crumpled from the day they got married and started to live a life together.It's the restrained cries,the sleepless nights,the quarrels,the misunderstandings,the voracious kisses left on them like square pieces.

Y/n looks at him,her eyes are still shiny,and with her fingertips and palms she clings to his camisole.

Sh clings to him and Aegon doesn’t feel any weight,he doesn’t feel any pain,no discomfort.Then at least one thing shines certain and bright in his mind:she has become the very consistency of his body.She has entered his limbs,without him noticing,and she is so close to him,beyond the blood and the breaths,that her hand is now an extension of his,her chest is his,her back is his,her lips are his.

And they would be able to see it,all perfectly together in the faces of their children.

And it is not a mere matter of possession,just an arranged marriage to unite two houses,this is not the truth and it will never be.It is something ancestral,like being destined to meet her,being destined to belong to it,being destined to live there,despite time and space.

Aegon and Y/n were sitting on the opposite ends of a timeline,at two distant points in human life, so far away that they saw each other like blurred halos,and they wanted so much to find the other,they have desired it so much,so much,that they have decided to tilt the axes of existence,to hang on to them,and to reunite with an interweaving of hands.

They had bent their faces,touched their souls by ticking of nails,and nothing was the same again.What a stupid mistake they made,something that their innocent son will pay one day.

Aegon felt like he was on fire,his whole body was trembling and his heart ached in his chest«Y/n…I…I-»but what could he tell her?

He could push her away from him,go ahead and just do it,but on his bones he will still find her shape and her footprints.If he looked for her,looked for her in him,he would find that she was everywhere.

«Y/n,I’m…I’m really sorr-»he tried to choke out what he could.

«Do you know what I wanted when I first looked inside a puddle?»Y/n didn’t let him finish,instead she kept stroking his face lovingly to help him calm down.

Aegon doesn’t move and she puts her index finger against his right temple,light.He knew that,from where she was from,it usually rained during the end of the summer and that she loved playing outside with her siblings and mother.She was the one that taught Y/n to look inside poodles and to dance in the rain,something that she would teach her future children too.

«I wished I could see myself.I wanted it intensely,I really wanted it with all my strength,as I never wanted anything in life.»Y/n started to explain him.

All of her life was planned for her,from the moment she came to the world,by her father that only saw his daughter as piece of chess to move on the board in order to gain power.She didn’t even knew who she was if not Lady Y/n,a proper and polite young girl ready to marry in the royal house.But now she knew who she was,what she liked to eat,to read,what to do in her free time and it was all thanks to Aegon that had shown her how to be selfish for the first time and to live for herself.

«And I see myself now,I can see myself,but I'm not happy.Because I have a new wish,much more important:that you can see yourself in the same way I see you,the way our children already see you.Then yes,i would be happy.We would both be happy.»she told him,sincerely with a little smile on her beautiful face.

Y/n had plundered his last feelings,which were nothing more than bread crumbs left attached to the eaten crusts.If the world fell,the sun fell,all the snow,the hail,the rain and the lightning fell,even the rainbow.He will make fire pour from the sky,he will spill blood just to keep his family alive and safe besides him.

Aegon doesn’t say anything,he moves forward on top of her and kisses her one again.He has a wish now:time.The only thing he wanted was time,more time to see his children grow up and become beautiful people,time to spend with them and to teach them how the world works,to help them and hold their hands,to protect them when they were scared and to remains them that he will love them forever.More time with Y/n,to love and cherish her,to grow old with her,to make her smile and laugh at the most inappropriate times,to caress her sweet face at night as he watches her sleep.He just wanted more time,he deserved it.

«How about,the next time that rains,we go outside,just us.»Aegon murmurs on her lips«I have a wish to make.»he continued with a small smile.

And he prayed the gods,whoever could listen to him,that it would become true the moment Y/n giggled and nodded her head.He hoped but hope can do nothing against an already written destiny and then he will be ready to go to war.

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catcake24 · 27 days ago

Text

Celebrations

Summary: based on the Mecha Pilot Jazz Au by @keferon and inspired by the holiday season, primarily Christmas since that is the holiday I personally celebrate every year. JazzProwl fic, mostly fluff.

From what Jazz could tell, it had been roughly a year and a half since he had been flung into space and inadvertently made first contact. So much had happened, it was hard to believe it was so little time – but at the same time, he knew how moments could stretch out into what felt like days.

He had only been outed as an alien organic a few months ago, but he had settled into a new routine. It was hard sometimes, to get all your needs in a base designed for giant robots, but he managed. He had managed for all those months even before he was found out.

But there were still things that couldn’t be recreated out in space – like the holiday celebrations.

It wasn’t anything fancy, but everyone back home that had to be on call during the holidays would put together a little party of their own. They couldn’t get smashed or do anything too stupid, but the white elephant games and helping to a light a Menorah for the first time was good enough.

It gave him the warm fuzzies, along with the worst food coma he’s ever had after eating too much holiday food from the potluck.

But out here? He didn’t even know what kind of holidays Cybertronians had, if they even did have them. He assumed they gotta, but either weren’t celebrating, or this was one of those things that they did on a much longer calendar than a human one.

It was lonely to be the only human, even surrounded by his friends, and the lack of shared holidays just made that worse.

“What’s on your processor?” Prowl asked, jarring Jazz out of his sleepy daydreaming thoughts. He had dozed off a little, and was thinking of the lights and snow from back home.

“Oh, it’s nothing Prowler,” Jazz said with a smile, “just thinking of home.”

“Hmn,” Prowl said, contemplative expression on his metal face. It was very handsome to see, when he was trying to work through a problem in his processor.

“It’s okay,” Jazz said, giving a pat to Prowl’s large hand near him. “I’m happy to be here, I just miss some things from home.”

Prowl shifted his attention away from his work, leaning on the desk. It was hard to describe just how large Prowl was sometimes, not just in physical size but presence. He could take up an entire room without even trying, drawing all the light towards him.

He was an absolute catch, even if he happened to be an alien older than dirt that could turn into a car. Sometimes Jazz wonders when the ridiculous became mundane, or how he was so lucky be able to know Prowl.

“Tell me about it,” Prowl said, looking at Jazz with a considerable expression.

Jazz hummed lightly as he thought about where to start, and decided that the holidays were a good place to start – as it was already on his mind.

“Well… around now, it would be winter, what we call the holiday season. We have so many different celebrations around that time, but my family -er, clan, always celebrated Christmas,” Jazz then looked up, considering how to explain it.

“Christmas is a festival, celebrated near the winter solstice – when the day reaches it’s shortest. There were a few different explanations for it, but it was mostly about giving eachother gifts, getting together with family, and eating food.”

“We also would string up lights across houses and buildings, since the days were so short it would light up whole streets. My folks used to walk up and down all of our neighbours, handing out sugar cookies,” he smiled to himself, remembering how his mom would bundle him up for the Washington winters and how he loved to watch all the houses with blinking lights, reflecting off the white snow.

“There were others too of course, but I still have a soft spot for Christmas,” Jazz admitted.

Prowl was listening intently, nodding along. “I see, we did similar things in Praxus before the war.”

Jazz perked up, “Really? What was it like?”

“Well… We celebrated once every half vorn. You see, Cybertron’s orbit around the sun was tilted in such a way that our city would be completely in darkness for periods of time. We celebrated the ends of those periods with a festival, where we would hang lights on the crystal gardens and bake crystal treats,” Prowl said, him having a turn at being wistful. "We all gathered together to see the sun rise after all the darkness, and we would have a day off to bask in the first new day."

Jazz smiled, “It sounds nice.”

Prowl nodded, “It was. I’m sorry you can’t attend your Christmas Festival, it sounds important to you.”

Jazz shrugged, “It’s okay, I’m happy to spend the time with you.”

Prowl smiled then, rare and soft and genuine. It couldn’t replace what Jazz missed, but it did help a little.

#mecha pilot jazz au #mecha pilot jazz #transformers au #jazzprowl #tf jazz #tf prowl #maccadam #maccadams #transformers #my writing #my fanfic #not my au #holidays #christmas #nostalgia

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tortureddarkstar · 3 months ago

Text

✩ IN BLOOM

AND HE LIKES TO SING ALONG / / AND HE LIKES TO SHOOT HIS GUN

DEAN WINCHESTER X F!READER

18+ CONTENT. MINORS DNI.

summary: dean teaches you how to shoot a gun. amongst other things.

inspired by: in bloom- nirvana

this was a very much ‘fine i’ll do it myself’ kinda feat. not enough dean fics out there esp since its spn season. this is also my tumblr debut x

lots of smut, not a lot of plot. hope u like x

“hey, focus.”

your attention snapped back to the ‘x’ dean had etched into a tree.

dean had his arms around you, thick hands encompassing yours which aimed his white colt at dean’s makeshift target.

“hm? oh, sorry.” you blinked your eyes a few times, drawing in on the target.

“no. not ‘sorry’. focus.” he grunted in your ear. “sure thing you can use a knife, sweetheart, but what happens when you’re too far? y’gonna throw your knife at a ghost?”

“well that’s why i have you and sammy.” you shrugged, to which earned you a jab in the back from dean.

“keep your back straight.” dean rumbled, eyes rolling at your overt smartness.

“ow.”

“yeah, you’re gonna feel an ‘ow’ when you’ve got claws down your body. back straight, eyes on the target.” you took note of how his father’s drill training peeked through his orders to you, even after all these years.

you huffed, fixing your posture and lining up dean’s colt.

there was something twisted about such a pure, little thing using dean’s favoured weapon.

not only had he used it on countless demons, ghosts, werewolves- heck people too. but you remembered the first time time he had used it on you.

on a hunt, not too long ago, he caught you staring a little too mindlessly towards him.

well, not towards him. more so the colt.

and when you had told him later that night that you wanted him to use it on you, he seemed, at the time, a little taken aback, hesitant even.

however, you watched, writhing under him, as that hesitance turned into malevolence and instead of giving himself to you that night, he gave you only his gun.

“come on baby, work for it.” dean coaxed, admiring your contorted face and your wanton whimpers.

“you gonna shoot that anytime soon?”

fuck, now you were wet.

“sorry, m’just distracted.” you mumbled, furrowing your brows, determined to actually shoot now. “focusing now.”

dean was still behind you, heavy grip on your elbows, heavy breath in your ears.

yeah we’ll see about focusing.

dean had no intention to distract you by any means, in fact it was his idea for you to learn how to use a gun- “sam and i aren’t always gonna be there. and i don’t plan on you leaving anytime soon either.”

but you were taking way too long trying to shoot a target less than six feet from you, and dean never has any objections to a bit of fun.

he watched as your index finger finally began to apply pressure over the trigger. his mind calculating when exactly to introduce some fun into this little training session.

dean slowly took his hands off yours, letting it snake down to rest on your waist.

“dean, what are you doing?” your voice had already begun to shake, the weight of the colt feeling heavier as your palms started sweating.

“nothin’. focus.” dean dismissed, his hand traversing down, down, until he found the buttons on your jeans, toying with them until he hit the band of your panties.

“dean.” there was no way you were concentrating at all on that tree anymore.

“let’s play a little game, huh? the closer you are to the target, the closer i get to where you really want me.” his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear. “that sound fair, sweets?”

instead of answering, you pulled the trigger, the bullet burning a hole in the tree 20 centimetres above from where you wanted it to go.

“that a yes, huh?” he grunted in your ear “but, i said the target, baby.”

“dean.. please.” you huffed out, eyes rolling as your head fell back onto his shoulder, the gun almost slipping out of your hands.

“monsters are more distracting. shoot. right in the middle, i know you can do it baby, come on.” dean’s voice was gruff in your ear, sending an entire wave of shivers down your spine.

you glanced down as his hand crept closer to where you craved him, edging around your clit, but never touching it.

inhaling, you straightened your back, shook away the shivers, and regained your grip on his colt.

“that’s a girl.” dean whispered, nipping your earlobe before granting you a sickly sweet kiss, stark in contrast to the current situation. he felt you whimper into the kiss before pulling away, not yet granting you any such reward.

this time you tried not to think as hard. yes thinking too hard would send you over the edge, resulting in a punishment from dean, but you also tried to rationalise- you wouldn’t be thinking too much if you were being chased by a demon, right?

the second shot was much better and much closer, not smack in the middle like he wanted but close enough for dean to finally reward you with attention to your aching clit.

“come on baby, third times the charm.” now dean was moving his right hand from your right elbow, allowing it to slip under your shirt and rest upon your left tit.

“s’too much, dean. please.” he could tell from the whiny tone of your voice that you had begun to tear up.

oh, he’d give you something to cry about.

without warning, he stuck his middle finger into you, letting the heel of his palm push against your core.

“see how nice i am? hmm?” he grunted, digging his finger and palm into you. “now, you make that shot and i’ll give you what you want. if not, all you’ll have tonight is that there colt.”

now that drew a moan out of you.

“we’ve a deal, pretty girl?” dean nosed at the side of your face, grinning slightly at your torment.

nothing but a pathetic hum, bordering a grumble, came out.

a mumble of ‘good girl’ came out of his mouth and into your hair as he resumed his movements inside.

just like the previous two times, you repeated your actions. straight back, tight grip. and just like the last time, you tried your damndest to clear your mind. even though it was harder now with his finger in you, moving with more fervour and more dexterity.

you bit your lip in both concentration and suppression of a throaty moan. your finger, once again, gripped the trigger as you pressed down, your eyes following the bullet as it hit the target.

smack. in. the. middle.

you began smiling but your celebration was cut short by dean finally moving as fast as you wanted, adding another finger, just as you wanted and finally, turning you around so he could kiss you. just as you wanted. finally making you cum, just as you wanted.

“atta girl. knew you could do it. baby just needed a bit of encouragement, huh?” dean goaded. through your concentration and your post-orgasmic haze, you hadn’t noticed that dean had taken himself out of his confines, allowing you to feel just how hard he was.

with as much might your jelly-legs could muster, you jumped onto him, caging him as you pushed him backwards on the hood of his impala parked conveniently behind you.

“you want this, baby? want me to fuck you on my car?” he tugged your head back by your hair to watch your reply- jaw slack with a hastened nod and moan. “dirty girl.”

you let his mouth envelop yours before he spun you both around, setting your back onto the car. from here, you could see just how desperate you were for him, a collection of your juices had darkened his boxers, a little on his open fly, catching the light of the cloudy sun.

you carried on staring, eyes glazing over as he lined himself up with your entrance, that beautiful sting electrifying as he settled deep into you.

“dean.” you whined. your hands had moved from holding his midsection to cradling his face as your nails dug into his neck, bringing him into a kiss that was purely teeth and tongue, encouragement for him to keep moving.

a few, albeit long, minutes pass of dean rocking in and out, in and out of you with the occasional kiss or tug at each others hair, all the while your moans of his name and other incoherencies fill the air of the murky woodland dean had sought out for your ‘lesson’.

oh what a lesson this was.

dean found himself moving faster now, his hands and hips most likely bruising you. he would be lying if he said that’s not what he wanted. swallowing one of your breathy moans once again, his thumb moved to your clit, bringing you to the edge right next to him.

the twittering of crows were now drowned out by mumbles of ‘dean’, ‘so good’ and other mismatched phrases, stark in contrast to your usual eloquence.

“come on baby, cum with me. come on.” dean goaded, his thrusts getting harsher as his words got more strained.

obedient as always, you took the thumb of the hand cradling your head into your mouth, sucking, licking, biting on it as your brow-bone tilted up- both signs of your ever-approaching orgasm.

soon enough, ramblings of heated compliments were overtook by the increasing pitch and tone of moans, the last articulate sentence being dean’s- a simple warning of his seed spilling into you falling from his pout lips, enough to push you over the edge you’d been teetering on for the past ten minutes.

ever eager to please, you let go.

spasm after spasm washed over you as dean watched from above, cheshire cat-smile across his face as he watched yours contort when he pulled out to stand and admire his handiwork.

he waited and watched as you sat up on the impala, leaning on your hands. dean revelled in the way your hair tangled, your tits spilling from the tank you wore, matching the dark-wash jeans that had bunched up around your knees.

you were in bloom. and oh how he basked in it.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural #fanfic #dean x reader #dean supernatural #dean winchester x you #jensen ackles #tortureddarkstar #✩ — enter: dean winchester

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hwalovs · 24 days ago

Text

Golden and Glowing (M)

Pairing; Jayce Talis x Fem!Reader Word Count; 7.8k Warnings; some (a lot) angst, S M U T T Y SMUT SMUT!, unprotected PiV, put on a dry suit before diving you freaks, some oral (fem receiving) ((i lied its full, fem receiving, diabolical oral)), fingering, dry humping, lots of kissing, overstimulation(?), fabric ripping, Jayce whimpering, Jayce whining, desperation in human form.

Summary; After Jayce comes back, he finds it difficult to face you. Yet, after you meet him in the council room, he can't stop the rush of emotions on seeing your beautiful face, and soft eyes.

A/N; I saw him in the council room in that fuck-ass-fit and KNEW I would be at my keyboard. Also- I've loved Jayce since season one, I saw him and knew he whimpered. i also love his beard and it will NOT stop me from giving him jaw kisses. I will GLADLY kiss against it idGAF!

MINORS DNI!!

THIS IS NOT EDITED! DO NOT REPOST MY WORK!!

The council room was repaired in his absence, even the large doors had been replaced. Though new, it still creaked when you gently shut it. Its latch resonated around the room, and you cursed under your breath, moving into the room with jittering hands and a racing mind.

Mel was the one to tell you that Jayce was back, and waiting in the council room. You didn’t want to go in there, not after the attack, but you swallowed down your anxiety, smiled and bid her a farewell, and faced the dark wood with golden knobs.

For a couple months, you thought he would never come back. Almost coming to terms that he was dead. There was a fleeting moment you thought he abandoned you, but that was thrown out. Jayce would never, ever, abandon you. Or anyone, for the matter. He loved too hard, and lost too easily. He was too determined to a fault, and you saw that when he created Hextech. When hardships came, Jayce was the type to take it by the teeth, see it through to the end with full confidence. He excelled in helping people, finding out what was wrong, and making it better.

Which is what scared you the most when he disappeared. The only way he would truly be gone, is if he was dead. Yet, there was no body. So, you waited.

You look at everything but him first, stalling. How could you be this scared, it was just Jayce. With gritted teeth, and unsteady breathing, you find him in the center of the room, in the same place his trial was all those years ago. He stood tall back then, taking whatever question the council threw at him with full determination he would win, earn his place back in the lab and with hextech.

Your mouth is moving before you can stop it, “your hair is longer.”

Jayce stands different, more tense and strained. Dark colors replace the white, red, and gold entourage he was decorated in by the council. Shaggy hair, scarred arms, hunched posture. It was like seeing a different person standing in front of you. But, you supposedly knew this man.

He slowly turns his body to face you, sharp eyes slowly softening when they meet yours. His shoulders drop, but only a miniscule amount, and his gloved hands itch to feel you.

“Is that a beard?” you smile, tilting your head, walking further into the room, down one of the steps. He stays put, but there's a moment you can see his body pitch forwards to move closer. It's almost nonexistent, but it was there. The light that spills into the room bathes him in a golden hue, his eyes shaded by his hair. His hammer was different, you note, watching as its multicolored metal reflects the light, a kaleidoscope dancing on the desk behind it.

“What’s happened to my golden boy? Should the man of progress be seen with such a rugged image?” Your voice cracks, and heat appears behind your eyes, but you still force a teasing smile. Pulling your hands behind your back, you hope that he didn’t see them shake.

After so long, he was here in front of you. He was looking over you with the desperation of a starved man, his chest slowly beginning to heave. His hammer slides until the metal slams into the ground, the handle slipping from his grasp to slowly fall against the desk. It startled you, watching him move carefully. A predator not wanting to scare his prey.

You almost forgot how big Jayce really was. All shoulders and chest filling your vision. His waist was smaller, and you used to be able to wrap your arms fully around him at night when it was cold, seeking out his warmth. As you look him over, you can see the tremble in his hands, how his shoulders quake in the deep maroon velvet fabric.

Before you can even think, he’s moving closer. Not even looking down at the stairs as he skips them all together, stopping inches away from your face. The light is blocked, and he looks ethereal. A golden hue glows from his body line, giving a halo to a broken angel. Tilting his head slightly to look over your features. His honey colored eyes are shining, red rimmed and swimming with emotions flashing by so fast you can barely pick them out.

Sadness, anger, desperation, happiness, it was hard to tell which one was dominating over the other. Sadness, perhaps. Or maybe it was desperation.

“Are you real?” He sounds more broken than he looks. Voice a whisper in the air between you both and all of a sudden you can feel the tidal wave of emotions that you tried to ignore. The ones you felt when you found out he was gone, that he left you behind, that he didn’t care enough to even tell you where he was going. Your cheeks are suddenly wet, and a hiccup is swallowed when you move and push against him. He takes it, all the punches and shoves you throw against his chest.

“Yes, you idiot,” you shudder, “I’ve been here while you were doing god knows what!”

He can only frown, gloved hands clenching at his sides while looking down at your shaking form. You refuse to look at him now, tears twinkling like fallen stars from your waterline. Shaky hands rush to wipe them away, before you shove him again.

“Where were you, huh? You left me here, alone! How could you do that to me? After everything we’ve done?”

His stomach twists, and he aches to tell you everything. To tell you how he woke up in a storm after touching the anomaly under the Hexgate, how he saw things in the shapes of people. Scuttling across the distorted grass and up broken buildings. He would tell you how he fell into a ravine, breaking his leg and swallowed by the dark. He would tell you how he survived, how the image of the anomaly haunted- haunts him. He’d tell you all with a straight face, that he climbed floating rocks to the top of the Hexgate, and met the same mage he saw as a child, and what he instructed him to do.

He would not fail, he’d say

Yet, he wanted to spare you the pain of knowing what could happen to you, to him, to Piltover and Zaun and the entire world. He stood before you, broken and reformed into a man he almost didn’t recognize. You spoke to him like you always did, how he remembered when he would sit in front of that fire, it still had the same cadence as the one in his mind when he was taking apart his hammer to fasten it to his deformed leg. Your instructions clear on what bolts and panels to take off, what he could use as a strap to hold it all together. You reassured him he would be okay, and reprimanded him for being there in the first place.

Would you still love him, as he is now? He couldn’t hold himself in the same light as the ‘Man of Progress’. What if that’s who you wanted, rather than the broken minded man in front of you. It's what he would think about at night, staring into the storm above as he listened to the water drip into the small, stagnant, puddle beside him. Even when he got back, and stood under the hot water of his first shower in months. All he could do was think of your eyes glaring at him, telling him that he was different, not the same Jayce he disappeared as.

How could he see you like this?

How could you love him like this? Broken mind and body?

Harshly rubbing your eyes, you sigh and look over him. His hands were shaking, jaw clenching and unclenching as tears finally gathered. A frown was wobbling on his face, everything was threatening to boil over. You could see it, that rope inside him unraveling into a tangle of emotions you knew he couldn’t handle.

When you reach up to grasp his face, like you did when he was tired, or when he needed you after another failed experiment, look down at you with tired eyes and a small smile. His beard was scratchy, or akin to scruff than anything. You wanted to feel along it all day, but he flinches, moving his head out of your grasp and you feel the cold truth slam into you from behind. Something had happened to your Jayce, something terrible and a small voice inside told you he would never talk about it.

“Oh, Jayce,” you whisper, arms falling to your sides. Tears spill from his eyes, and he slowly lifts his hands enough to drag his gloves off, trembling. It's a silent cry, droplets falling down his neck to soak into the fabric at his collar. He swallows each sob, each whimper that threatens to spill past his lips. Dropping his gloves to the ground, he softly and slowly grabs your hands, breathing deeply when your skin touches his.

He was cold, you realize. Trembling fingers sliding between yours with a clumsy vigor, dancing up your palms and sliding around your wrists. He slowly drags your hands up, up and up until they settle onto his cheeks. Immediately, your finger splay across his dark beard. They press into his cheeks, feel how his jaw tenses, and as quickly as he started crying, you join him.

You’re not a silent crier, you realize. A sob makes its way past your lips and you drag him forwards until he's crashing into you, his arms moving to grip at the fabric of your shirt. He bends until his forehead is against yours, breathing you in rapidly. He can’t get enough, your perfume swallows him whole and he curses himself for ever forgetting it.

“I’m sorry-” He sobs, his tears mixing with yours. You almost collapse, hearing him so broken, but you shake your head and pull him closer, your lips just grazing his before he sighs and pulls you in deeper.

He tasted like heaven. There's a hint of the sweet candies you and Viktor would buy specifically for him, and under all of it, honey. Yet, there's the undertone of the mint from his toothpaste, the coffee he drank this morning.

The last time you kissed him, he was leaving for the council meeting, trying to strike for peace with Silco and for the petty war between them to be over. He was tired when he left, and Viktor had given you a light kiss to the cheek before they departed, a strained smile on both of their lips as they disappeared behind the lab door.

The kiss he gives you now starts slowly, remembering what the other felt and tasted like. It's all slow touching and even slower kissing, opening back that door you thought you would have had it close forever, close off what it would feel like to have him like this again.

Jayce breathes you in deeply, your taste made his stomach clench in anticipation, or what was to come. Surely, you’d understand, right? He needed you, needed to remind himself that he was alive and you were safe with him.

It devolves, his hands working from your arms to your waist, his head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss. His hands are shaking as he licks along your bottom lip, desperate for entry.

Giving in easily, you sigh as his arm makes its way around your waist, one of his hands moving to cradle the back of your head while you slide both thumbs under his eyes, subconsciously wiping his tears away. Your tongue twists with his, a fight for dominance he easily loses, allowing you to explore him without restriction.,

He shivers when you bite down on his lip, pulling away to look at you with half-lidded eyes. Pupils blown, he takes a split second to look around the room, before turning back and bending down to lift you from the backs of your thighs. His grip was tight, not allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist like you used to. Yelping, you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders, face nuzzling into his hair while he walks over to the council desk. He sets you down lightly, before grabbing your face to pull you back to him.

He's desperate now, kissing you like it was his last day on earth, and maybe it was, as long as you were going out with him you didn't care. Love was drawn onto your skin by his lips, silent words that soaked through and wrapped around your heart in a symphony of beauty. There was also the lust that followed, crackling and clawing like a desperate creature you both unintentionally created. As he painted you, you’d paint him beautifully as well.

You whimper into him, his teeth dragging across your bottom lip as he pulls back, hands gripping your knees while he slowly makes his way down your neck. Gripping onto his velvet shirt, right where the fabric is folded to his elbows, you try and find purchase before his teeth sink into your skin. It was rough, how his teeth threatened to break through. You knew it would bruise quickly, and you almost smiled at the way his tongue quickly followed in apology.

Lightly, he pulls your knees apart, not forcing, but asking. You oblige quickly, pulling him to step closer while your back arches to accommodate his height. A hand leaves your knee to grasp your neck, pushing his thumb into your pulse point until you tilted your head in obedience. He’s muttering against your skin, words so quiet you couldn’t even what when you tried to.

“What is it, baby?” You ask, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging softly. He whimpers, pulling from under your knee to drag you closer. Your cunt fits snug against him, and he whimpers again, softly grinding against you.

He’s still mumbling, you realize, and pull harder against his hair, dragging his face from your neck. Giving him a soft smile, you lean forwards to kiss him. When he jerks his body close, to meet you halfway, you yank on his hair, and he stills. He watches with bated breath and dark eyes as you slowly lean closer, dragging your lips along his neck until it reaches just below his ear. His skin was hot, pulsing under your lips as you pressed one, two, three light kisses against it.

“I need you to speak clearly, Jayce, can you do that?”

It’s hard to keep yourself together, with him rutting against you like a horny teenager, and his hands gripping your knee and neck in desperation. His eyes clench shut, tilting his head back and against your hand until your fingers splay out in his hair once more.

“I thought about you- everyday-” he begins, eyes opening to look at you in pain. Not the kind of pain you inflict on someone, but of a pain so deep within his bones it shines through his gaze.

“I wanted to be with you so bad- please believe me, I would never leave you voluntarily.”

“Oh, baby, I know,” you coo, releasing his hair to thumb against his cheek, slide the pad against his bottom lip. His breathing is erratic, and his hips have stopped. He looked at you as if you had all the answers, and while you don’t right now, you’d lie through your teeth just for him.

“I’m right here, nothing is going to happen to you.”

He shudders, “I thought you’d never want to see me again, that you’d hate me for being gone-”

“You’re here now, Jayce, that's all that matters to me, okay?”

Nodding, he drags his hands along your skin, until they rested on your waist, fingers twisting and gripping onto your shirt like it was a lifeline.

“I thought I’d never get to touch you again, to have you like this. You look so pretty right now, honey.”

The words travel straight to your gut, a fire that was burning under your skin the longer he held onto you.

It's easy to fall back into the routine of what once was, but you realized that; while before, he needed to be kept in line and put in his place, to scold and tease and taunt. Now, the Jayce in your hands needed you to comfort him. He needed you to remind him that he was real, that you were real and not going anywhere.

“Kiss me, sweet boy.”

He surges forwards, lips crashing against yours while your hands feverishly start unbuttoning his shirt. His bangs tickle your forehead, and he can't stop himself from rutting against you again. He haphazardly undo’s your pants, fingers slipping and after missing a button, he grunts against your lips and grabs the flaps of your pants and yanks them apart, one of the buttons falling to the floor. You laugh, pulling away and smiling up at him. He’s embarrassed, hiding his eyes and pulling you impossibly closer to him by the ripped fabric.

“I-” he whines as he ruts, “I need you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head, and he furrowed his eyebrows with a nod, “how do you need me?”

Groaning, he drops his head onto your shoulder, fingers itching to dive into your pants. You quickly grab his wrist before he can, nails pressing into his skin in warning. This time, you try a different approach, trying to get him to talk to you.

“Tell me, Jayce, did you think about me like this?”

“God, yes,” he moans, free arm wrapping around your waist, arching your back. You wrap your arm around his neck for leverage, sighing, “yeah? What about me?”

He shakes his head, a laugh tickling you before he pulls back, “I-” he swallows, “I thought about how you’d cum around my fingers, and on my face-”

“Dirty boy,” you tease, kissing his collar bone. His hips jerk, cock catching along the now open panel of your pants. He hisses, eyes flickering between yours, shining, “I thought about you- you wrapped around me, tight and wet and perfect just for me- you were made for me-”

Letting go of his wrist, you let his hand dive between your legs and into your pants, it's sloppy, the way his hands desperately move to get closer to you, immediately pulling the band of your panties away to sink his fingers into your slick, knocking against your clit once before venturing deeper. Gasping, you grab at the front of his partially open shirt, his tan skin peeking through. His chest heaves as he pulls back up and finds your clit, fingers rough as he circles it.

“You always sound so- fuck-” his fingers move from your clit to your entrance, rubbing against you once to test the tension before sinking a finger inside of you, mouth dropping at how tight you were, “sound so pretty, when you cum-”

“I never thought I’d hear it again,” he sighs, tilting his head. You smile, finally undoing the rest of his shirt and kissing the large expanse of his chest. He sighs, pulling his finger from your tight hole to find your clit again, pulling its hood back with his palm before teasing the sensitive bud. You shudder, forehead falling against his skin, using his closeness, you suck against his chest, leaving red splotches while his voice wraps around you like a blanket.

“Didn’t stop thinking about you- your voice, your eyes, god baby, I’ve missed you so much,” voice breaking at the end, he nuzzles his face into your neck, forcing yours to move from his chest, your cheek resting against his shoulder. “Even-�� he swallows, “even you yelling at me, telling me off and how I annoy you.”

He slowly drags his hand away from your cunt, wetness trailing after until he’s wrapping his lips around his finger. A loud moan rumbling his chest, your cunt clenching.

“Never thought I’d taste you again,” Wet fingers wrap around your throat, not tight, just enough to drag your lips back to his as your hands fumble to undo his own pants. Humming, you lick into his mouth, tasting yourself. Sweet, yet a familiar tang. He licks against your lips, into your mouth and suckles on your bottom lip.

“Jay-” you whine, your legs wrapping tightly around him as he punishes you back, your arms frantically moving to support your weight. His tongue licks down the column of your throat, stopping to push up your shirt enough to kiss against your stomach, moving to suck a deep red splotch onto your hip bone, his canines scratching against you. Drool makes its way from the corner of his mouth, and his tongue licks it away. He winces as he drops to one knee, careful of the other. The brace dug into his skin, leaving a bruise in its wake. It was new, a shiny silver metal that contrasted against his black pants. You noticed it, but it didn’t bother you. This was your Jayce, and you love him in any way.

Pulse erratic, you push down your pants the best you could with his weight on you, and you almost smile when his hands join yours, yanking the fabric down your legs until they reach your shoes. Quickly, he discards them, throwing them behind him before stopping abruptly to look over your soft skin.

While to you, he was glowing in the sunlight, golden sun painting him in an ethereal light. To him, you looked akin to a god, the sun almost made you sparkle. He could feel his chest swell, his cheeks hot as his trembling fingers grabbed your shins, bringing one close to lay featherlight kisses. Slowly, he works his way up, eyes never closing, never wanting to miss a single one of your beautiful expressions. The way your eyes blink, your lips part when he reaches your inner thigh, how your hands reach to grasp the closest thing to you for support.

He loves you, unforgivingly, as he bites into the sensitive flesh just before your cunt. It makes your back arch, head falling back as you try to shut your thighs, his hair tickling you, beard scratching against your skin. He grunts, pulling away to lick at the intended mark of his teeth, freezing and holding you open as he gazes at the beauty that is your slick cunt. It shines in the light, beads of it sliding down until it threatens to drop onto the desk below you. He inches forwards, slowly licking against your skin until his tongue parts your folds.

His whole body shivers at your taste, your warmth, your sweet nectar flooding his senses and he wouldn’t have it any other way. The tip of his tongue catches your clit, and he can feel your thighs twitch. Your hand is in his hair, and your eyes lock on his immediately. He almost cums untouched at the blissful smile you give him. You whimper as his tongue runs along your folds harder this time, stopping to give your clit an open mouthed kiss. It throbs under his lips, and he can feel his hands shake.

If this was the last time, he would take his time. He would drag this out until he couldn’t, when the sun rises again tomorrow, when someone inevitably walks in. He didn’t care, he had you in his arms again.

His tongue joins his kiss, sliding to press into you briefly before pulling away to watch the concoction of your slick and his spit slide down. Before it can drip onto the desk, he rushes to lick it away, swallowing it down with a guttural groan you’ve never heard from him. It's lethal, as his hooded eyes flicker over your face before he shuts them completely, diving between your legs and eating you like a man starved.

It's messy, spit unstopped from dripping while his tongue moves against you. He’s trying to taste all of you, all at once. He’ll lick your clit, and then dip down to tongue into your entrance, feel you clench around him before moving back up to suckle. He can feel it drip down to his beard, soaking the hair, but he did nothing to stop it.

“Jayce- wait-” Your pleading, a whimper falling past your lips as you grip onto his hair. Your elbow was screaming in pain as it digs into the wood below you. Yet, what mattered to you most was the starved man between your legs. He ignored you completely, wrapping his arms around your thighs to lock you to him. He quickly shakes his head, tongue calculated as it hones in on a specific pattern on your clit. It feels like heaven and hell all at once. Rapidly, your release is building. It starts as a tickle in your gut, and then festers into a burn. Your muscles start to lock and shake, your lungs seize and before you realize you’re not breathing, he slides a quick hand across your tummy, tapping quickly, bringing you back. You gulp down air, your hips trying to hump into his mouth.

“Please- slow down-” he only groans in response, pulling away and taking a deep breath before going back down. He goes back to flatten his tongue against you, slowly dragging it up before taking your clit between his lips, sucking hard.

Your back arches, thighs shaking and you moan. It almost hurt, how hard he was sucking, his tongue flicking against the bud until he released you and continued circling. You're pulsing beneath him, tears gathering as you drag him closer by the hair. His beard was scratching the sin of your thighs, a welcoming burn.

His fingers soon join his mouth, tips teasing against your entrance before he’s sinking two into you. He doesn’t stop until knuckle deep, twisting his hand palm up and curling his fingers while dragging them out. Your hips trying to get closer, or further away, you didn’t know. The pleasure was immense, heart racing as you let go of his hair to grab the edge of the desk, thighs trying to shut around his head.

He pulls away just enough to look up at you, eyebrows furrowed and eyes pathetic. He’s drunk off your taste, of how wet and tight you are around his fingers. He’s begging you, resting his head against your thigh as his tongue circles your clit.

“Just like that-” you whimper, trying to gulp down enough air, yet still breathless as he nods so obediently. His eyes brighten, watching how your mouth drops open, body tensing. Yet, he knew it wasn’t enough. You were on the brink, teetering on a cliff you didn’t know you’d survive the fall of.

Jayce didn’t give you time to prepare, he moved his fingers faster, curling them against your sweet spot while surging forwards with his mouth to suck hard onto your clit, moaning around you.

Your release hits unexpectedly, a dam breaking in your gut and you slap a hand onto your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. Your slick and cum cover him, a flood of your release dripping down his hand. Your vision is white, sobbing into your palm as your hips shake against his grip. It's electrifying, the warmth that spreads like wildfire through your veins. You didn’t know if you wanted him to stop, or keep going. Yet, he didn’t give you a choice on that either.

He moves his hand faster, tongue flicking against your clit rapidly. It makes your whole body freeze, not knowing what to do. You just came, how could you be so rapidly gearing up to cum again?

While his fingers torment your sweet spot, he pulls back for air, his arm fully enclosing your thigh so his thumb could reach, circling hard and fast. He watches you with wide, desperate eyes. Breathing deeply, licking his cum slicked lips, “One more- please,” he whimpers.

He had to be lying, right? He was so unforgiving with you, your wetness echoing around the room. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, hyperventilating as you felt the build up once more, yet this time, it was faster. Your previous orgasm hadn’t even faded before this one started, It was building into a monsoon of pleasure. It made your ears ring, your eyes shut tightly and whether you liked it or not, you were going to cum again.

“Jayce!-”

“Oh my, god-”

Your ears start to ring, thighs tremble, and Jayce’s mouth is back on you. It’s overwhelming, the pleasure that greets you on the other side. All you can do is face it head on and your orgasm washes over you once more. It was so much more intense than the last one, you swore your legs went numb.

It could’ve been minutes, or seconds, but Jayce’s mouth is back on yours, tongue pushing past your lips and you can taste your own cum. It's filthy, his wet beard against your skin as he pulls you so close your hips hang off the side of the desk. Somehow, he had gotten his pants pushed down to his knees. His hands are desperate as he maneuvers your shaking legs around his hips, shirt pulled up to show the expanse of his stomach.

His cock was throbbing, thick and long with its tip an angry shade of deep red. Pearly pre was leaking down the side, shining against the light as he moves to rub his cockhead against your slick folds. Whimpering, you shudder, legs tightening around his waist as he pushes the tip into you.

“Oh god, I’m not gonna last long-” voice cracking, his hand splaying against the wood to your side, his other looping under your hips to hold you up. Swallowing against a dry throat, you grab onto his forearms, his body pausing.

“My sweet boy,” you whimper, “you need it that bad?”

You always spoke at the most inconvenient times, he thinks. His hips jerk forwards, sinking deeper into you with a whine, shivering at how tight and warm you are. You were always warm, always welcoming him with open arms and a loving smile. He missed you so much, craving for this warmth while next to the fire he made. This is the warmth he wanted when he was shivering, thinking of nothing but you when he was climbing that damn ravine.

He doesn’t think, only slides his hips forwards until his pelvis meets yours, clit throbbing against his skin. He almost reaches down to thumb against it, but decides not to when he feels your walls clench around him like a lifeline. His moan travels through the room, across your skin and wraps around you like a blanket.

“I do,” he says, almost apologetically. Shaky hand leaves the desk to rub the skin of your tummy, before slowly pulling out until just the tip remains, and thrusting back in. The stretch is borderline painful, causing you to whimper. His gaze flickers back up to you, a frown twitching his lips.

“Don't stop,” you whisper, hips pitching upwards, his hand forcing you back down, “keep going, baby.”

Nodding, he breathes deeply before continuing, his hips moving at a continuous rhythm.

Jayce was always careful with you, soft touches and worried eyes always a staple when his cock is inside you. But now, his hand that rests on your tummy is slowly pressing into you. It makes you tighter around him, your cum from before forming a white ring at the base of his cock. He moans at the sight, tilting his head. You would always be perfect for him, cunt sucking him back in when he tries to pull out. Your ankles hook together behind his back, and he closes his eyes to bask in the pleasure while listening to you whimper and moan beneath him.

You watch him intently, feeling his fingers flex against your skin and you try to keep up. His hips wont stop accelerating, skin slapping against skin as his head falls against his chest, eyes opening into slits as he watches his cock disappear into you.

“So good,” he slurs, his shoulders tense as his body slowly pitches forwards until his forehead rests against your chest. With shaking fingers, you move to undo your shirt. Your breasts come free and Jayce immediately starts to suckle on the skin between them, your head thumping against wood, back arching into his mouth. Your nipples harden into buds when the cool air hits them, Jayce groaning before taking one into his mouth. His tongue swirls around it before taking it lightly between his teeth, pulling away with it, and then letting go.

“You’re doing- fuck,” you curse, eyebrows furrowed, “You’re doing so good, sweet boy-”

Nodding, his hips falter as he speeds up his pace, your body jerking up the desk until he growls, grabbing your waist to drag you back. Your hands grab onto his arms, nails threatening to dig into his skin, but you hold back. He’s already gone through so much pain, why inflict it further?

His hips dont stop, though, and you gasp, “wait-”

“I-” he gasps, fingers gripping onto the tops of your thighs, shaking his head as he roughly starts abusing your cunt. The pleasure was almost painful, burning under your skin until you felt it within your bones. “I’m sorry-” He sobs, a tear falling from his eye. Eyes wide, you watch him with parted lips. He was frantic, hands shaking as he kept thrusting erratically. There was no rhythm, just a desperate race to the finish line.

“Jayce-” you whimper, hand pressing against his lower stomach, trying to slow him down but he grabs your wrist, pulling it away. He bring s it up to his mouth, kissing your skin before dragging it to rest above your head, his fingers intertwined with yours. He could feel your cum dripping from his balls, no doubt pooling on the floor between his feet. There's tears gathering in your eyes, that familiar burn flaring in your gut once more. You couldn’t cum again, not after the torment he put you through with his mouth.

“I need you,” he sobs again, looking at you with sparkling eyes and parted, gasping lips, “need you so bad, sweetheart.”

It burns so good, that fire beneath your skin, and you realize that if he keeps going at this pace, you won't have an option but to cum again. Jayce, though, didn’t seem to care. It almost scared you, but his grip on your hand was shaking, and his eyes kept clenching shut with pleasure.

He was pushing through the sting of his brace digging into his leg, of the burn in his thighs. He was rapidly chasing that high he wanted so desperately, forgoing anything else but himself. Jayce was a giver, always making sure you felt good before ever thinking about himself. Yet, now, when your hot, wet, throbbing cunt was wrapped so nicely around his cock, all he could think about was himself.

“Please, please, please,” he begs, words slurring together as he roughly takes what he wants, your tears finally fall from your eyes, and he leans down to kiss them away, kissing down your cheeks until your lips are on his again. He moans against them, biting your lip until you open your mouth to let his tongue in. Yet, this time, he waits. He waits until you move your own, trying to lick into his mouth but he stops you when he wraps his lips around your tongue, sucking desperately onto it. Moaning, you grab his hair, pulling him closer. His chest rests against yours, hot skin against skin, and it forces his pelvis to grind onto your clit. You’re sweating, beads rolling down your back while his skin slides easily along yours. A delicious burn festers, sinking deep into your bones and up your spine until you have to choose but to whimper and pull away from him. Walls fluttering, Jayce bites the skin of your neck, licking against the salty sweat, not slowing down in the slightest until you're pushing your hips up against his desperately and moaning so loudly he wonders for a split second if the people outside could hear you. He didn’t care, not when you clung to him while your pussy was clenching his cock like he was a lifeline.

He feels the flood of your wetness around him, how it leaks down his cock and onto his thighs, but he didn’t care. Pulling away from your neck, he pushes himself up enough for leverage to keep thrusting, trying to find momentum to keep going and find his own unraveling. Your fingers find his cheek, and his eyes find yours again.

You looked beautiful, golden and glowing while you stared up at him with sparkling eyes and bitten lips. His eyes move down your body, finding the deep red splotches that would no doubt bruise in the morning, to your beautiful chest that bounces every time his pelvis meets yours, to the way he was disappearing inside you.

Pinpricks behind his eyes, Jayce paws at you, trying to find purchase when he can feel that pleasure building in his stomach. Your voice is in his ears, comforting him while he rapidly starts to reach his peak. His thigh shakes, stomach clenching, and he desperately hangs onto you.

“(Y/n)-” his voice doesn’t sound like his own, a broken cry that reaches your ears before he sobs, hands grabbing your thighs to wrap them higher on his hips, letting him hit deeper inside you. He was faltering, you realize, his hips stuttering as they met you and in a desperate attempt to help him, you pulled him in each time with your legs. They were burning, shaking under the pleasure of your orgasms, but Jayce needed you, and you would stop at nothing to help him, even if it meant ignoring the spiked pains that came knocking at your door.

You’ve felt overstimulation, but never to this extent. Jayce didn’t give you any room to breathe, thrusting into you so desperately you couldn’t discern what was pain and what was pleasure. All you knew was Jayce. His beautiful eyes that looked at you like you hung the stars, like you were all that mattered, that would get him to the end. Drool dripped from his lips, and he made no attempt to lick it away, it mixed with his beard. You try to pull yourself together, to formulate words from the thick fog that rested behind your eyes. He didn’t look any better, you realize with a smile, that he was so deep within himself it would take a while before he managed to crawl back out. It was only you that flooded his senses. He needed you to guide him, to help him reach this peak he couldn’t seem to find all on his own.

“Such a good boy, aren’t you?” You groan, voice rough, watching as his eyes ignite with lightning, your voice a beacon. He nods, eyes squinting through the pain until he moans, nails digging into your skin, “my good boy?”

He whimpers, tears and spit dripping from his eyes and lips, his body pitches, but he catches himself on the desk. His hair falls into his eyes, and you can finally reach him. Trembling hands cradle his face, wiping away the tears before pulling him closer, licking from just below his bottom lip, to the inside of his mouth and against his own awaiting tongue, swallowing the drool before kissing him gently. When you pull away, he’s gasping, eyes shut tightly while his shoulders tense, he’s going to cum. Teetering on that edge, but a small part of him wishes that it didn’t. He wanted to stay like this for longer, wanted to feel your warmth and your touch and to be reminded that he was home. He was safe with you, no pain or misery could reach him as long as he was in your arms-

“Gonna fill me up, puppy?”

He’s right there, he can feel it threatening to snap. That blissful pleasure that’ll wrap around his bones, make his muscles spasm, make his head swim until he can no longer think of anything at all but your voice in his ears and the sight of you beneath him. There's a ringing, and then his hearing stars muffling until all that surrounds him is the sound of his breathing.

“Oh god,” he whines, mouth dropping open as he dumbly nods against your hand blinded by his own pleasure as his thrusts stutter and he can finally feel that swell in his stomach burst, his cock throbbing as he fills you up with his cum. You moan softly, feeling him jolt and throb. Grip tight, he was whining and sobbing through it, shoulders twitching. His thighs were shaking, threatening to give out from under him if it wasn’t for his hands and leg brace giving him some semblance of support.

“Such a good boy,” you whisper, kissing along his jaw and neck as he trembles. A bead of sweat ran down his temple, stopped by your finger and you pulled back with a smile from his neck to push back his damp hair. Half-lidded eyes stare back at you, and you keep your legs tight around his waist while he slowly drops against you, his weight settling onto your body. You heave, hands gripping his trembling shoulders and with a smile you move him until his face is resting against your neck.

Breathing heavily, you can feel him slowly softening inside you, but you make no effort in moving. Your body is buzzing, fueled by the afterglow of pleasure and while you slowly thread your fingers through his hair, Jayce is gripping onto you tightly.

Your fingers scratch against his head, and his body shivers beneath your touch. Slowly, he comes back to reality, opening his honey-colored eyes to look at you in bliss. Not all of his weight was on you, legs still somewhat steady enough. And as he pushes himself up onto his elbows, his fingers move to brush over your cheeks, just under yours eyes. The pads barely touch your lashes, and you smile as he leans down to kiss each cheek, and then your nose, and then your lips. It’s soft, tentative and brief before pulling away. He swallows, wetting his dry throat, and finally speaks after the minutes of silence.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you sigh, smiling brightly, and Jayce can feel that desperation tug at him from the pit of his stomach. He almost died, he almost left you alone in a world that only he seemed to be able to fix.

Slowly, he pushes himself up, watching you wince as he slowly pulls out. A mixture of his and your cum seep from you, spilling onto the desk. He raises an eyebrow, watching it leak from you and after you snap your fingers, he jumps back to reality once more. Pushing yourself up to sit, you look around the floor before spotting your pants, he follows your gaze, and on shaky legs and reaches down to grab them. First, you grab the underwear from the pile, trying to clean up the mess you both made, before sliding your legs into the fabric and pulling them up until you couldn't. He fixes his pants in the process, ignoring the wetness that clings to his skin. He quickly buttons them back, breathing deeply before looking back to you.

Reaching a hand out, you ask Jayce for your help silently, he smiles softly, holding onto your hand while you drop down from the desk, legs almost giving out. Laughing, you both reach down to pull your pants up, forgoing your panties that now sat soiled on the desk. Finally releasing his hand, you lean against the desk and start putting yourself back together. While you button your shirt, he buttons his. When you button your pants, you make a show of trying to hook fabric onto a non-existent button, playfully glaring at him, while he buttons his.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers when your laugh fills the room once more.

“You’re buying me new ones,” you scold, pointing a finger at him before brushing down his clothes. Trying to make him presentable to the public once more. His hair is brushed away from his forehead, and when it falls back into place for the third time, you give up with a huff. Stepping back to look him over. His face was flushed, and with burning cheeks you reached out to wipe away the remains of you clinging to his beard. Smiling under your touch, he catches your hand before it falls back to your side, a sad look in his eyes as his thumb brushes over your knuckles. Your other hand joins it, thumb brushing across his wrist and your eyebrows furrow, finally noticing that his cuff is gone, replaced by a webbed design that reflects the unique stone.

“What happened to you, Jayce?”

He doesn't know what to say, letting your finger brush over the now smooth expanse of skin.

“I wanted to come back sooner, but I-” his voice pitches, cracking as he feels that heat behind his eyes again. You shush him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest.

Jayce was no stranger to the feeling of dying. He almost experienced it when he was a boy, trudging through the snow with his mother. He almost experienced it when he was bringing parts back from Zaun, his lab locked and an explosion knocking him against the wall. He felt it when the explosion threw him from his chair in this very council room, when he fell into a deep ravine, breaking his leg and struggling to survive for weeks.

It was after falling into a ravine, breaking his leg, struggling to survive for weeks that he realized how precious this life was. While he was trying so desperately to advance Hextech, to bring an ease to sorrow for other people, he was ignoring the fact that he was alive and breathing. He had you, living and breathing in front of him, and no longer did he want to take that for granted. He wanted you to live the rest of your life with him, safe from the threat he managed to create.

He wouldn’t fail.

#arcane #arcane season 2 #jayce talis #jayce talis x reader #jayce talis smut #jayce x reader #arcane smut #arcane x reader #angst #fluff #smut #HwaWrites

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mimicha-arts · 11 days ago

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LC - YINGDU EP1 SPOILERS, TW - blood, death scenes

Yeah I logged in just for LC to sum up things in my DMs with Forest (love u), mostly about dives.

Still have too many ideas about how mechanics actually work, as well as abilities transmigration, so I'll focus on differences of dives and some things from previous seasons.

Scene with Vein.

In my understanding, the opening scene already includes 2 different developments of events.

1, where CXS, after being wounded, was led by LG into the room, while Vein went to pick up the gun. We see bloody footprints, traces on the table, but that's all.

2, where Vein is already standing at the closed door, clearly shows other events - a chair, other objects scattered on the floor, according to the blood prints, the body seemed to have been dragged + there are no prints on the tabletop.

What is also interesting is that the background is slightly different in both scenes, if you pay attention to the shelves on the left.

There is a difference in the photos too - the first version shows only a crack, the second - a broken glass.

For me, the conclusion is that already here we see 2 different timelines.

Lu Guang's injury

In the first option, although Vein shoots at the door, he misses (time ~ 23:11), Lu Guang closes the door and is not injured

So , missing scene

We don't know what happened for about an hour. In the second version (cause it has stains on the floor, overturned things), the blood on the photo already speaks of the not shown scene. I doubt that Vein simply changed his mind and left, so Lu Guang had to "deal with" him.

At this point, he himself is deeply wounded, but the most important thing is that in these shots we are shown his yellow eyes - this is already a dive in a dive, some kind of repetition of the events.

s2ep12

At the same time, this drive is different from the drive that was shown in the second season.

The blood pattern on his clothes is similar, but even if we exclude the fact that he doesn't look out of breath/in pain, there are other details.

- blood stains on his face - furnishings, of objects on the table - blood on hands (by the way, in the scene with Vein, when he raised his hands in front of him, both of his hands were covered in blood)

Lu Guang's watch

For us as viewers, the watch on his right hand is a familiar part of the design, he wears it on his right hand in both s1 and s2

So, after diving, the first thing he tries to do is check the time, and looks at his right hand.

We still don't know the origin of his watch, since he didn't wear them in almost all the flashbacks. Except for the new one, where the watch is on his left hand.

Thus, Yingdu gives us a new diving point - April 12th (in addition to the dives on September 13).

Maybe the time of this dive will correlate with the time indicated in s2 (but with which there were no associated events)

Except for the poster, the watch on Lu Guang's left hand appeared in the flashback of CXS's death in s2, which probably separates this variant of his death from the ones shown in the scene with Vein, and perhaps the difference can give us insight into the timeline's chronologies later on.

September and April

To be honest, this whole thing makes me very excited, because of the existence of the old theory about the broken time in April and September - I wrote about it in detail a year ago in that post

Emma, April-September and chronology

For me, this means that circumstances of the case, who the unknown victim was, although they have faded into the background now, will still be a key.

Pretty sure this has all been discussed, but thanks for reading. Let's all… have fun with the new season ~

#link click #shiguang dailiren #yingdu spoilers #link click yingdu #link click spoilers #I have a feeling that I myself have returned to the past

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds smut #cm writing challenge

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neil-gaiman · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, Neil Gaiman. I am writing this letter of gratitude because I am in despair, but I am obliged to you. I am Russian, I live in a small town in the south of Russia, in the Caucasus. a month ago I turned 16, so now I am fully responsible for all my actions. I'm bisexual, which is now illegal. you understand what I mean, but I’m simply scared to write about such things. absolutely no one knows about this, and I have to hide every day. this is an unbearable burden, but I must say thank you. because your projects are what gives me life. you have no idea how much pleasure it was for me, at eight years old, to fearfully admire Mr. Bobinsky. when, at 14, I finally saved up money for the Russian edition of Good Omens, which I had to order via the Internet not directly, but through my friends, I was quietly delighted. it is worth paying tribute to: this edition is really good and very warms the soul, its design may not be filled with elegance with a golden border, but it is very homely, cozy and imbued with love for the work, this can be felt, even if the translation is not the best. and on the very first pages I felt something that I had never experienced, having problems with the nervous system and anxiety: I felt protected and happy. I felt complete. each line was a sip of life-giving water for me. let me be so bold but this book is perfect for me and it's hard to believe it wasn't written for me personally haha. like two pieces of a puzzle. I hold the book of Good Omens, and I cry almost every time because it feels good just to hold it in my hands. you shouldn’t put this next to fanaticism, it’s just personal happiness. sometimes I felt so safe with this book that I hugged it as I fell asleep. then I saved up to the translation of script book for the first season, and I must say that I am confused, because there are no deleted scenes in it with Crowley shopping or the opening of Aziraphale's bookstore and others, and this was not clear to me. and a month ago, on October 30, my cousin, who is like my own sister, gave me the original Good Omens for my birthday. can you imagine? in all of Russia she was able to find only one person who carried out such foreign orders (please forgive me, I have little understanding of this). so, in some ineffable way, a copy was delivered to me via America from Corgi Books, I think, 2014. soft cover and thin pages, of course, but I'm so happy. and I’m also grateful to myself, because I’ve been learning English since I was seven, and therefore I’m glad that I can read the original. oh, you should have seen with what rapture I waited for the release of the second season at three in the morning! and with what delight I watched it in English without subtitles, understanding what was happening. this is happiness. what I want to say is that you bring…indescribable happiness to my life. you give me strength, and I don’t give up. I cry every time I allow myself to dream that I am escaping from here. that I can meet you and say thank you in person with my stupid accent, not so much because of my native language, but because of the braces, hahaha. but I never stop dreaming about it, although even this is hard. thank you for everything. I wish only peace and love. with devotion, love and gratitude, A.

I'm sending thoughts of love and concern. Stay safe.

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 1: I Need You Now But I Don't Know You Yet

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts, Little bit sad, Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing, Basically the reader just wants to be loved, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.3K

Song Inspiration For Chapter: IDK You Yet (Title of chapter based on song) Y'all should listen to this song because it fits so well!

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

A/N: Guys you have no idea how excited I am about this story! It's already shaking up to have a TON of my usual angst, but I'm not surprised.😅 I'm also a little disappointed. I read a soulmate AU fic forever ago for Joel Miller where the birthday was printed on the reader's arm and I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called or find it. If y'all know what it is, please let me know. I'd love to read it again and give the writer a little bit of credit for inspiration. ❤️

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

January 24, 1919

The date on your right wrist haunted you, the bold black numbers mocking from the moment you learned what they meant. It had to be a celestial mistake, a misprint, something wrong in the stars that shone so brightly over others, but dulled above your head.

Sometimes you thought you were cursed, that some mystical being before your birth marked you, scarred you, and made you carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.

That whoever it was made you different on purpose and you hoped one day you understood what that purpose was.

You'd never met someone born with the same dilemma, to be saddled with a soulmate that was born over 100 years ago, and yet here you were.

You'd heard it all growing up, the hushed whispered "freak" from your schoolmates, the odd looks from your neighbors, the pitying frowns of your parents who had known each other since pre-k, and the hug from your older brother as he whispered the familiar phrase “it‘ll be okay" to soothe you.

But you always wondered…

When would it be okay?

You watched all your friends find their happy endings with their soulmates, the birth years printed on their wrists at least within the same few decades, but not you.

You were alone, different, cursed.

The date printed on your wrist made you different, because no one else had a soulmate that was born so far in the past.

Your soulmate's birthday brushed on your skin only brought a wave of disappointment every time you saw it, because what the hell did it mean? 1919? That meant that your soulmate would be over 100 years old when you met him, whoever it was.

If you even met him.

No one lives that long. My soulmate should be long dead. He can't still be alive. Can he?

Each year that passed was like another nail in the coffin, but you celebrated the birthday of your supposed soulmate with a cupcake and a beer, locked away in your apartment to shut out the jeers of those who knew your particular dilemma. And each year when you blew out the candle you wished that it would be the year you met him, but now you weren't sure it would ever happen.

Because it was impossible.

You didn't understand why you were different, why you were chosen to have a soulmate that was long dead. Maybe it was true, maybe you were born late, born under the wrong sign, or maybe you really were cursed.

You'd heard the stories of people who never found their soulmates, urban legends really, but it didn't make you feel any better. The stories of people who wasted away to nothing, driven to the point of insanity because they never found the other half of their soul, alone for as long as they could stand it before they finally crumbled to dust.

You refused to be like them, turning to books for solace and hoping to escape. Slipping into the pages and into other worlds where people found their other half to leave the loneliness that haunted you behind.

And in that solace your found your true love, literature. It wove around you and brought you peace in a world where you felt lost and different.

When you moved away from the small town you grew up in, you got a job as a Literature professor, reading the great works of others, while trying to forget about the date on your wrist and the soulmate you longed for each day.

It was incredibly lonely to think that you'd live your whole life with only one half of your soul.

Every time you opened a book from the era your soulmate was supposed to be born in you wondered if he had read it, wondered what it was like to live in that time, and imagined what it would have been like to be there with him.

Each day you covered up the date on your wrist with a splash of foundation and playfully laughed it off whenever someone asked you if you'd found your soulmate yet. All the while spending year after year fading just a little bit more as you lost the last pieces of hope that you'd ever meet him.

One Year Ago

You were running late. Frankly you were always running late, but in the city that never sleeps it was to be expected.

It was supposed to be a big day. You had about a hundred papers to grade, a test to proctor, and three lectures to give, but you couldn't complain about your job, you loved it. Loved the groans of your students whenever you announced a test or an essay, loved the soft evenings where you read papers with a cup of tea and learned what in the assigned text was special to your students, and loved to teach from the books that had become home to you, the books that tried to heal your wounded heart.

But today something was different.

Something nagged at the back of your mind, as if you had forgotten that something else was supposed to happen today.

Haircut? No that's not it.

You think as you walk to the large wooden desk in your living room/bedroom. It was technically a dining room table, breakfast table, and your desk, but you'd loved it since the moment you found it tucked into a corner of an antique store in Brooklyn.

Your small studio apartment was quaint, the bedroom and living room divided by a large mid-century wooden screen that you had bought for twenty bucks at a thrift store the weekend you moved into your apartment five years ago. The living room only housed a plump cream colored couch that faced out the window towards the living room window that gave you a spectacular view of the alley between your apartment building and the next. Sometimes you got to watch the couple in the apartment across from you having a terrific fight and then got a front row seat to the loud make-up sex they had almost immediately after.

Large stacks of books dominated every wall stretching up as high up to the ceiling as they could reach, some were pressed against the exposed brick walls, others serving as the base for the coffee table you’d made with a vintage window, and of course there was one stack that towered high above your bed on top of your bedside table. You didn't own a tv, not when you spent most of your time reading.

Being a English professor meant that you could never have too many books not when they were like old friends that pulled you in whenever you opened their yellowing pages.

Meeting with the head of the English department? You bite the inside of your cheek as you shove your notebook, planner, pencil case, and laptop into your leather messenger bag. No, that's on Thursday.

You'd been working on a research paper that you hoped to publish about the Modern Period of Literature in America, but the head of the English Department wanted to see how much you'd done. In all honesty the only reason why you'd started studying the Modern Period of literature was because it was supposedly the time period in which your soulmate grew up and you thought that it would give you some insight into what his life was like.

And despite your being an expert on that time period, the head of the English Department did not share your enthusiasm for it. The only thing the head of the English Department had any enthusiasm for was his self-published book of erotic poetry and staring at your legs for too long while making subtle attempts for you to sleep with him even though he was married.

You fight the wave of revulsion with the memory of the last time you had a meeting with him and give yourself a once over in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door that faces in to your living room. You looked the way that you always did, maybe a little more frantic than usual, but that was expected given the fact that you were running late.

Today you had decided to wear your favorite dark green chunky sweater that you'd knitted yourself, a dark gray argyle midi-skirt, chestnut brown ankle high-heeled leather boots, and your traditional pair of circular black-rimmed glasses.

It's going to be a good day. You smile at your reflection. Yeah, if I could remember whatever the hell it is I've forgotten.

You roll your eyes and grab a bagel from the bag on the counter.

No time to toast it.

You think mournfully before shoving it between your teeth as you run out the door, slamming it behind you so hard that it rattles the watercolor botanical framed prints on the inside wall of the apartment.

"Late again?" Your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson, asks opening the cheerful yellow door of her apartment.

She was wearing her traditional pink cat eye glasses and had her wavy gray hair pushed back by a floral headband. When you'd moved in five years ago, she had brought over some cinnamon swirl muffins and a pot of blueberry tea. She'd just lost her own soulmate and husband of sixty-five years and was looking for a friend about as much as you were.

And although she had about eighty cats, all of which who were named after literary figures (your own cat was named Heathcliff), and often smelled like mothballs, you enjoyed spending time with her. She knew about your dilemma and didn't judge you for it. She didn't throw you a pitying look or make outrageous comments about why you'd been chosen to never meet your soulmate. If anything she acted like the way you thought your mother always should but never did. Not with judgement as your mother did, but with concern and love.

"Always." You shout back, muffled around the sesame seed bagel, stamping your foot to get your boot in the right position.

"Tea later?"

"Mhmm."

"Get some earl gray macaroons!"

You make it down the stairs successfully without falling, before throwing yourself against the door that leads into the black and white tiled lobby. Your high heeled boots clack loudly against the floor and you step out onto the crowded sidewalks of the early morning.

Fall was just beginning in the city, your favorite season. The leaves in Central Park were turning reddish brown and yellow and there was a wonderful chill that swept through the crowded streets.

You wove through the people, walking in the direction of NYU and looking down at the antique wristwatch perched on your left wrist to confirm what you already knew- that you were going to be late for your 8:00 am lecture on 20th Century American Romantics.

Shit.

The city is lively for a Monday morning. The chatter of people on phones, the buzz of traffic, the high pitched screech of horns, and the smells of the city wafted over you. It was so different from the small town you grew up in, but you loved being here. Here no one knew you, no one judged you, no one muttered something under their breath about you, and no one grabbed their children and crossed the street as if you were contagious.

You felt free.

You round the corner still looking down at your watch, weaving in and out of the foot traffic the best you can, when someone bumps into your shoulder. Whoever hit you was solid, broad, and much taller than you. The bagel drops from your mouth as you jostle from the bump, and you let out a low groan.

There goes my breakfast.

You look up prepared to curse out the offender when you stop. Whoever it was hadn't stopped moving, but you catch a flash of his bright green eyes as he passes, meeting yours for only a moment.

But that moment seems to last a lifetime.

He was tall with wild dark brown hair so long it touched his shoulders and a scraggly beard that fell over his chest almost to his collarbones. He looked dirty, almost worn, and was wearing a faded maroon track suit that had some writing on the sleeve in another language that you couldn't place. But his eyes were a brilliant green, so beautiful that they took your breath away.

As soon as his eyes meet yours, your skin hums, body lightening, warmth unfurling like the petals of a flower in the center of your chest curling outward reaching for the sun above. All sounds of the city vanish, leaving you only with the manic thud of your heart. Everything in your body turns towards the man, cells vibrating, reaching out, wanting more, begging you to grab him and hold him close. Electricity pulses and dances along your skin making your hair stand on end and goosebumps erupt along your flesh.

The birthday inscribed by the stars on your wrist sears against your skin like a brand beneath the foundation you smeared over it this morning. You look at him as if seeing for the first time, as if the past years of your life have been colorless, as if you'd been living in a cave for centuries and he's your first glimpse of sunlight, and as if you'd never seen the stars and he's the midnight sky.

You'd never felt any of this before.

The man's eyes widen as he looks at you, people passing between the two of you in a faceless blur, and you wonder if he feels it too.

He has to…

But the man shakes his head and turns his back on you continuing on his path down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he goes.

"Wait-" You start to say, but your phone rings loudly in your pocket breaking the spell, and as you look down to retrieve it, you lose the man in the crowd.

What the hell just happened?

The rest of your day is chaotic, almost a blur, your body still humming from seeing that man on the street, wrist aching where the birthdate on your wrist burned against your flesh so hot that it seared through the foundation you brushed meticulously over the skin this morning to cover it up. It was no longer black, but flashed a brilliant gold with every shift of your wrist in the light as you moved your arm when teaching, peeking out beneath the sleeve of your sweater. Every flash distracted you from your lecture. Even your TA, Tate, who sat in the front row of your class began to notice how often you lost your train of thought.

You barely got through your 8:00 am lecture, stumbled through you 9:00 and 10:15, and canceled your 2:00 class much to the chagrin of your students who were expecting a test.

When Tate finally asked you if you're feeling alright, you wave a hand and tell him to take the rest of the day off, while you barricaded yourself in your office and stared at your wrist for hours, running your hands over the golden date confused. The birthdays always shone gold after two people found one another, and when your soulmate died, it went back to black, as if a reminder that the world had faded.

It was weird to see it shine so brightly when you'd lived your whole life staring at the mark and wishing for it to go away.

But he's not here, he's gone. I don't know where he went or how to find him…

Your friends back home described finding their soulmates before, tried to explain to you what it was like when they locked eyes with them for the first time, but everyone was different. No one could describe exactly how they felt when it happened.

Deep down you thought that it should feel like what happened when you locked eyes with the man on the street, like nothing else existed, just him and you but-

He acted like it was nothing like I was just another person and not the other half of his soul.

You swallow the lump in your throat, emotion from a lifetime of disappointment building, and finally the tears begin to crest and fall over your cheeks. You'd never heard of a one sided soulmate before, of only one person feeling drawn to the other one.

Then again, I've never heard of someone printed with the date of a soulmate who was born so far in the past.

Seeing him for the first time was like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp spike, followed by the force of gravity jolting you into reality.

But why him?

You think again about how weathered he looked, like he'd been living under a rock for the past hundred years. And then you see the flash of his brilliant green eyes again in your mind, just for a fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the warmth trail along your skin, like the soft caress of a lover.

Was he really born in 1919? Or was this just another joke? Another way for the universe to laugh at me?

Frustrated tears blur your eyes as you stroke the birthdate on your wrist, heart breaking all over again, because it seemed that even if you had found the man the universe designated for you, he didn't care.

One Year Later: Present Day

You sigh loudly and hold up another dress in front of your body looking at yourself in the mirror. You had no idea what you were going to wear to Annie and your brother Hughie's housewarming party and you only had about another thirty minutes before you had to leave.

Your brother had been living in New York longer than you had, but he still made time for you. The two of you got lunch every week and it was your fault that he met Annie.

Meeting her yourself had been a complete fluke. You'd been sitting at your favorite bench in Central Park by the pond, reading your favorite book, allowing the gentle prose of the author to whisk you away for a few minutes, when someone sat down beside you and promptly began to cry.

And when you asked her what was wrong she'd told you everything about her problems at work and although you'd never been the best at comforting other people, you'd taken her to the closest coffee shop and the two of you had bonded over Chai Tea lattes.

You'd invited her over to watch a movie with your brother one Saturday night and then had a front row seat when the two of them realized that they were meant to be together. You'd tried to be happy for them, but the whole time Annie gushed about Hughie and Hughie stared at her like she was the last glimpse of the sun before it dropped below the horizon all you could think about was that it would never happen to you.

And now one year later, the two of them were finally moving in together in a fancy apartment uptown and you didn't want to imagine what the rent was. Your own studio was enough for you and you were lucky enough to have one that was rent controlled.

But you figured due to Annie being one of the Seven, she was probably making more than your measly teaching salary could ever amount to.

Learning that she was Starlight had been surprising, you weren't a supe, not even close and you didn't want to be. You had your hands full with teaching college kids, and didn't want to think about what it would be like to have superpowers or really what you would do with them. You certainly didn't need them to be a teacher and you didn't want to have them.

Plus, you always worried that you'd get some weird power like shooting webs out of your butt or making it rain blood. You didn't want to take that chance and shooting up Compound V felt like Russian Roulette.

You also worried about your brother working so closely with supes. The two of you hadn’t met any growing up and you worried that he was putting himself in danger every day when he went out to deal with them. But you were happy that Annie went with him, because you knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to him, she loved him too much.

As you hold up a black dress in the mirror you see a flash of the golden birthdate on your arm, and you're unable to fight the emotion that builds in your chest when you do.

It had been a year since it happened, since you locked eyes with a complete stranger on the street and felt your soul intertwine with his and he turned his back on you.

You'd understood that.

Understood that for some reason he decided to turn away like you meant nothing to him, like you weren't the other piece of his soul, and like a part of him didn't call out to you, a lighthouse over a stormy sea to a sinking ship.

It had broken you more than the first time you realized what the date on your arm meant. It always seemed ridiculous that something that brought happiness to millions of others made you feel broken, like there was something wrong with you.

And in that moment on the street something felt right for a few seconds, you felt whole for the first time in your life, only to have everything dashed against the rocks all over again.

But you hadn't forgotten him, couldn't forget him. His green eyes haunted you and each night you dreamed of him.

You saw pieces of his life, his memories, felt his pain, his anger, his frustration, and deep down his fear whenever you fell asleep. You'd never heard of that before, of a soulmate dreaming the memories of another.

You'd asked your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson if she had dreams of her soulmate's memories, she'd said no, but then she said that she'd heard about it, thought that it was only a myth, but it meant that the souls were fated to spend more than one lifetime together.

As if you knew what that meant.

It had broken your heart even more when she said that, because if that were true why did he turn away?

How could he turn away? Why did he leave me standing in the street and acted like I wasn't his other half?

It made you think that maybe he wasn't impressed with you and that he was disappointed that you of all people were his soulmate.

You'd had a mental breakdown at Mrs. Charleson's apartment when you went home early the day you met your soulmate or whatever the hell he was.

She'd made blueberry tea and rubbed you back. And when the tea hadn't worked she had cracked a bottle of red wine and ordered greasy takeout food that the two of you ate on her floral couch while her cats circled like sharks looking for a piece of your chicken and broccoli.

You would have called Annie, but she and Hughie were out of town on a long weekend getaway.

And when you went back to your apartment and crashed into your bed, you'd dreamt of him for the first time.

The memories you'd seen when you closed your eyes that night were not happy at all. You'd seen the early years of his life being berated by his father, years of him drinking and fucking his sorrows away, and then the worst, him being tortured in what looked like a lab. He was a supe, that much you could gather from the memories. But they were filled with pain, suffering, frustration- you'd never met someone who'd been through so much before. Endured so much torture.

You still didn't know his name, didn't see enough of his life to figure out who he was, only that he was different than you in almost every single way. The memories were terrible, filled with blood, death, and pain. It scared you to see your soulmate that way, see him so angry and see him hurt and kill people. You couldn't imagine the kind of man he was, the kind of man who could burn someone beyond recognition and feel absolutely nothing.

It was confusing. You didn't understand how someone who was supposed to be the other half of your soul, was the complete opposite of you. Someone that was filled with so much rage and pain was the man the stars declared was for you.

It doesn't matter anyway. He saw you and didn't want you.

You ignore the lump of emotion in the back of your throat and hold up a navy blue dress, but you hang it back in your closet with a sigh. Nothing seemed to be appropriate for you to wear to the party and you hadn’t been shopping for a new outfit in ages. Not to mention you knew that no matter what you wore Annie would look flawless.

You loved your brother's soulmate, but sometimes you were intimidated by how pretty she was and how together she was. It made you a little self-conscious about the long skirts, sweaters, and blazers you wore when you were at work and you were not together at all.

You seemed to always be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, frantically running from place to place and trying not to lose the last bit of sanity you had left. While Annie was confident, poised, and glided into each room.

Finally, you reach for a pair of your favorite blue jeans and the same green chunky knit sweater you were wearing the day that you saw him for the first time. The sleeves were long enough to cover the mark on the wrist. You hadn't told your brother or Annie about that day and you didn't want them to see the golden date on your wrist and ask you where your soulmate was.

Guess I'm going a little more casual today.

On your way out you give your cat, Heathcliff, an affectionate scratch behind the ears and grab your purse. You were running a little early this time, early enough to pick up a Snake Plant around the corner at your favorite plant shop, 'Please Don't Die,' as a housewarming gift and then stopped at the liquor store next door to grab a bottle of Annie's favorite wine.

You figured that you'd end up staying late and drinking wine with her long after the party was over.

Hughie opens the door of the apartment when you knock. "Thank God you're here! Annie is freaking out and driving me up the wall-"

"No I'm not! I'm just expressing all the things that have to be done within the next five minutes or I really am going to go crazy!" You hear his soulmate shout back when Hughie lets you in.

The apartment is fancier than yours, all white walls and glass windows that display a view you would kill for. Your brother is wearing a nice light blue button down shirt and navy tie, and his hair is it's usual fluffed and curly self. He looks happy and it warms a piece of your heart because you knew how much that he deserved it. And that's all you wanted for your older brother.

Annie appears, wearing a white dress that wraps over one shoulder and falls to her ankles, effortlessly elegant as usual. It made you feel self-conscious that you'd worn jeans, when Annie was wearing something that made her look like a Greek goddess.

"I am so underdressed." You mutter to yourself

"No! You look great babe. I love those jeans on you." She smiles pulling you in for a hug.

"Well-"

"But please let me do something with your hair." Annie touches the messy bun at the back of your head making a face.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing, I'm just going to spruce it up a little bit for you."

"But-"

Annie pulls the bottle of wine and the plant from your arms and shoves them at Hughie. "We'll be right back." And with that she drags you to their shared bedroom.

20 minutes later your hair has been perfectly curled and styled by Annie's skillful hands. She'd even adjusted your make up so that now you're wearing a bold red lipstick and a dark eyeshadow that matches your ensemble. And even you have to admit that you look better than you did moments ago. You usually didn't wear that much makeup, sometimes it made you feel like you weren't you, but what Annie had applied seemed stylish.

"Thanks Annie."

"Of course." She smiles brightly and leads you back out into the large kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and real marble countertops. "How have you been? Did you finish that paper you were writing?"

By now several people have already begun to gather at different parts of the apartment, talking quietly with one another, while sipping drinks and eating finger food. The sound of their chatter is masked by the Billy Joel song playing from the speaker in the corner.

"Yeah. I submitted it, now I'm just waiting for the department head to read it." You frown at the thought.

"You don't think he'll like it?" She moves to the freezer to grab a bag of ice.

"Dale doesn't like the modern period of literature as much as I do so I'm expecting him to have a lot of critiques and reasons why he doesn't like it." You take the bag from her and set it on the counter.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to it. He's never ecstatic about my research work." The thought makes you frown. "Even though he knows it's my specialty and the reason why he hired me."

"Isn’t he the creepy married guy that keeps trying to take you to dinner and wrote all those sensual poems about women who sound nothing like his wife?"

"Yep."

"Ew." Annie's face scrunches up in disgust.

"My thoughts exactly." You sigh looking around the kitchen for an ice bucket. "Do y'all have an ice bucket somewhere or-"

"It should be in that cabinet." She points behind you just as you hear someone knock loudly on the front door.

"Perfect."

The ice bucket is acrylic, see-through, and light pink, but you find it easily. The ice clanks against the sides as you pour, not bothering to watch Hughie open the door for whoever it was that hit the front door of the apartment with so much force you thought it would cave in.

Annie leans against the counter pouring herself a glass of wine and groans to herself when she sees who Hughie was greeting.

"What's wrong?" You ask her, your tongue between your teeth as you try not to spill any of the ice over the perfect countertops.

"I didn't think he would come." She grumbles.

"Who?"

"Ben." Annie all but sighs the name.

"And why didn't you want him to come?" You ask, pouring more ice into the bucket.

"He's just kind of rough-"

"Rough?"

"He works with Hughie. He's a supe. Thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread or whatever.” She sighs again and takes a sip of her white wine to calm down. "Actually he used to be Soldier Boy."

"Soldier Boy? You mean the supe from the 80's that died?"

Hughie didn't tell me he had a dead man working with him.

"It's a long story." Annie waves her hand as if to dissipate the thought, but it doesn’t make you any less curious. "Now he works at the bureau with Hughie trying to keep supes in check. Usually he and Butcher bump heads."

"Oh."

Hughie didn't talk much about what he did with Butcher, or really who he met, but after Homelander disappeared and Stormfront took over as leader as the Seven more supes began to come out of the woodwork, supes that had been afraid before, but now had no one to keep them in check. And although The Seven were feared in the city, no one was feared as much as Homelander.

"I'm sure that he won't try anything Annie. And if he does I'll keep him in check." You smile at your friend.

It's her housewarming party and supe or no if he's a prick I'm going to kick his ass out. Annie doesn't deserve to feel stressed today of all days.

"Thanks babe."

"What are friends for?"

She squeezes your arm and walks away to talk with MM who stands with a little girl who must be his daughter. You'd only spoken to him a handful of times, but he was always eager to talk about her achievements in school. He was so proud of her that it made your heart warm. Her mother wasn't his soulmate, but there hadn't been any hard feelings between MM and his daughter's mother.

That wasn't unusual. You'd known several people who decided to date other people before meeting their soulmate as a way of passing the time. You'd always thought it was ridiculous to commit yourself to someone else and fall in love with them, only to have your heart broken when they met who they were meant to be with.

It was why you hadn't tried to date anyone, because you might have never met your soulmate, but the other person you'd be in a relationship with would. And you didn’t want to give your heart to someone only to have them leave you when they met their other half. Which meant that you were probably going to die alone, especially because your soulmate doesn't want you. It hadn't helped that you'd seen a few memories from your own soulmate with other women over the years, women that didn't look anything like you, women that seemed more confident, more beautiful, and more stylish than you.

Maybe that's why he didn't want me.

Your feel the familiar twinge in your chest when you thought that and fought the tears that burned when you thought of how happy Annie and Hughie were. You didn't want to cry at their party.

The familiar question rises in your head again:

When will it be okay?

Probably never.

You turn toward the freezer holding the now half-full bag of ice intent on putting it back when someone bumps into you. The bag slips from your hands and ice goes skittering across the perfect hardwood floors in every direction, but just when you start to drop to pick it up, you feel a large hand grip your shoulder.

A gasp escapes from your mouth as it makes contact.

As soon as the palm touches you, you feel nothing else, not the shift of the sweater against your skin, not the slight chill from the air conditioner, not the brush of your hair against your cheeks, all you feel is the warmth radiating through your clothes and soaking into your skin from the person's hand.

The hand moves to cup your chin gently, the shock of the person's skin touching yours makes the feeling increase ten-fold as the hand tilts your face up to meet the eyes of the person who bumped into you.

You know it's him before your eyes meet his, know that it's the man from the street who you saw for only a few seconds a year ago, but this time when his beautiful green eyes meet yours everything you felt that day comes roaring back.

He's taller than you remember, shoulders proud and broad stretching a dark gray button down shirt over his chest that have the sleeves rolled up revealing tanned arms. His hair is shorter, still dark brown, but now only long enough to cover the tops of his ears and his beard is shaved so that only a thick dusting covers his cheeks, but it's still him. And he's more handsome than any version you could come up with in your mind.

All sound in the room vanishes, the drone of chatter fades, the clinking of glasses disappears, the only sound that remains is your own heart thudding in your chest and you swear you can hear his beating at the same frequency, both of your hearts calling out to one another.

Your entire body feels like it's vibrating, as if every cell is moving so fast that they're heating you from the inside, leaving behind a molten puddle of what you used to be. A golden cord weaves around the two of you securing your heart to his in your mind, making you gasp as it hooks to his heart binding his soul to yours. Time stops as he gazes at you, something brightening in his green eyes as they absorb your own gaze.

The man doesn't move. It almost looks like he's stopped breathing, and you realize that you haven't taken a breath since he touched your shoulder. His eyes drop down to your right wrist where your hand rests over his heart, where he knows his birthday will be.

You don't remember reaching out to touch him, but now that you realize it, you can feel his heart beating beneath the palm of your hand like a fluttering bird, gentle and judging by the memories you had witnessed from him, nothing about this man was gentle.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." The man rumbles, the words vibrating against your fingertips where they rest against his muscular chest. He smiles down at you and somewhere deep down you feel something break open that you thought was locked away long ago.

And as you stand there looking up at the man you thought you'd never see again, the autumn sun warm against your back, you feel a flicker of something that could grow into a blaze spark to life in your chest.

A/N: I hope y'all loved the first chapter as much as I loved writing it! I've never written a soulmate AU, so I am a little nervous about it, but I think that it's going to be a lot of fun! And yes, I did give Ben the same birthday as Dean Winchester (not the same year). In my head Ben is Dean from a different universe, and it just made sense to me. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 😊 If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know! :)

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@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn @deangirl96 @kr804573

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#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x y/n

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ladylannisterxo · 8 months ago

Text

... the one where spence takes an interest

Pairings; Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Words; 0.6k

Warnings; one use of Y/N but this was written back before I stopped using it lol but other than that, none, just fluff!

Summary; {requested} "Not to pester you, I had this thought and wanted to share is all, but could you imagine talking to Spencer about something you're really excited about (like a movie/tv show/game or something) and the next day he starts talking to you in length about it, and it turns out he went home that night and read/watched everything he could on the subject."

A/N; goodness, I wrote this years ago on another blog and since I've been rewatching Criminal Minds, I figured I'd go ahead and post it again (cause why not?)... the one and only thing I ever wrote for Dr. Spencer Reid ajdhsakdshak

{ masterlist }

You didn't plan this. Really, you didn't. But you know how it goes when you start binging a new tv series: just one more episode... and then before you know it, it's 2:00am.

Now you're sitting in the bullpen. It's 8:00am and you're constantly rubbing at your tired eyes and chugging coffee like your life depends on it.

And Spencer is wearing a curious expression, already extrapolating possibilities as to what could have kept you awake last night.

But he doesn't mention it. Not when the team is discussing the new case, not even on the jet en route to your destination. He waits until it's just you and him, paired off to go talk to the medical examiner about the latest victim.

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah, just a little tired."

He smiles warmly, offering you an amused glance before fixing his eyes back on the road. "I gathered. What kept you up?"

"You know, I just..."

But then you realize you don't want to tell him, not really. To you, staying up super late to watch a tv show seems embarrassing when compared to how he most likely spent his night.

You imagine that he read around six books, most of which were probably in a language you didn't understand. Or maybe he called his mom to check in with her. Or maybe he had nightmares himself and so he thinks that's exactly what happened with you...

Any scenario you think of infinitely sounds better than oh, you know, I just stayed up super late watching some trashy guilty pleasure tv show because I have no self control.

"Nothing really," you settle on, "it's dumb."

"Try me."

So you cave, mostly because you're too tired to fight. He listens intently as you tell him about the new show you found, how it's completely ridiculous but it allows you to step out of your life for a bit and relax.

He doesn't say much, just nods along as you talk and before you know it, you've arrived at your destination and it's back to work.

Spencer actually doesn't mention your conversation again for the remainder of the case and finally, the unsub is in custody and the team is back home to enjoy a nice, long weekend.

You don't see or hear from Spencer during this time but first thing Monday morning, he's greeting you as you step off the elevator with a cup of coffee and a bright smile.

... and then he tells you he spent the weekend watching the first season of the show you mentioned and to his surprise, he really enjoyed it.

To say you're confused is an understatement but you listen as he discusses every character and what he thinks of the current story arc.

"Spencer," you laugh, resting your hand on his arm and halting his speech. "Not that I'm not thrilled to talk about this but I really wasn't expecting you to go home and watch an entire season of a show just because I mentioned it."

He smiles sheepishly, eyes lingering on where your hand still rests on his arm.

"You were really excited about it though."

"And?"

"And it seemed important to you... so it's important to me."

A smile pulls itself across your face and you open your mouth to respond when you're both interrupted by Garcia letting you know there's another case.

"Hold that thought," you inquire.

"It's impossible for me to forget it."

And just like that, you're discussing trashy tv with Dr. Spencer Reid during any downtime that you're granted. You gush about your favorite character and he theorizes future story arcs while simultaneously pointing out behavioral inaccuracies.

"People do not speak like that in that kind of situation, Y/N."

"It's tv, Spence, it's supposed to be unrealistic. That's what makes it fun."

+ Bonus: if it's a series that is currently airing, you both come into the office the next morning and excitedly discuss every single thing that happened and then theorize on what could possibly happen next.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #writing by 's'

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bucketbueckers · 8 days ago

Text

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER NINE

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur thelightknight21 wc: 9.9k notes: with the 1st pick in the 2025 wnba draft, the dallas wings select... the IRP masterlist, lee university! cringe i know but it's the last chapter, let me be happy. i wrote the first half of this chap before the providence game, felt like a witch once the starting lineup dropped, currently manifesting the rest of this chapter ages just as well (my ball knowledge is limited, if the game doesn't make sense just let me be delusional, i dont give a gaf). smut warning, who's surprised. fluffier than chapter 6 methinks. tried to fulfill the nice/gentle P agenda, may have fumbled the bag bc this somehow felt more filfthy? kinda short too idk lmk 😩 not proofread, i'll probably come back later to edit. sorry for yapping (no im not) but i hope you all enjoyed reading irp as much as i enjoyed writing it, thank you for sending in such sweet comments and engaging in the inbox, they were genuinely so motivating and i loved interacting w y'all 🫶 as always i hope we're rocking w this final chapter 🙂‍↕️

‘The Return of Tess Kennedy’

A little over two years ago, college basketball sensation Tess Kennedy tore her ACL in the Final Four matchup between the University of Iowa Hawkeyes and the South Carolina Gamecocks. Kennedy, who’d amassed fifteen points close to the end of the third quarter, was a pivotal element to South Carolina’s game – Iowa struggled to lock her down. Kennedy stepped off wrong and collapsed on court. Many knew what had happened long before the news broke. Her recovery was far from easy, but Kennedy did the impossible and recovered just in time for the SEC championship and the March Madness tournament, where she led South Carolina to a redemption win over Iowa with a dominating 30 points. Following the win, Kennedy shared a photo of herself holding the championship trophy, one eye closed in a wink and her lips curled into a smug snarl, and captioned it, “took a year off to cut you bitches some slack, tell a friend to tell a friend tess kennedy’s back.”

Many athletes often need a long period of adjustment after returning from a serious injury. Kennedy, however, played as though that statistic did not apply to her. Kennedy played as though she had something to prove. A loud majority of fans speculated that Kennedy fought so fiercely because her girlfriend, Paige Bueckers, and the UConn Huskies had been eliminated by Iowa in the Final Four match only two days prior to the championship. A smaller few claimed Kennedy holds a grudge against Iowa for her injury – although Kennedy disputed this theory in a presser, linked here.

The simplest truth of the matter is that Kennedy did not play any sort of way for anyone but herself and her team. She proved to herself that she could come back even better from an injury that she thought would uproot her life. She played for her team, who uplifted her during recovery and gave her the tools and the support to show up and show out when the world was watching. Kennedy played the way she did because that’s just what Tess Kennedy does.

During South Carolina’s 2024 Senior Night, Kennedy announced that she would stay at South Carolina for another year of college basketball. She cited her injury as the source of her decision. She explained that there is still more recovery for her to do and that she did not feel comfortable declaring for the draft with only five games post-injury under her belt, especially since she was under a minute restriction during those games. We believe that decision is the best she could have made for herself.

Throughout the 2024-2025 regular season, Kennedy has averaged 26.2 points per game, 4.3 steals per game, 3.7 blocks per game, and 3.2 assists per game. Since her injury, she’s turned into both an offensive and defensive dual threat, leading the South Carolina offense with help from Raven Johnson, MiLaysia Fulwiley, and Te-Hina Paopao. Coach Dawn Staley describes Kennedy as “unguardable” from the perimeter and “unstoppable” from the midrange. Coach Staley also notes that Kennedy’s midrange improvements have pleasantly surprised her as Kennedy was usually a reliable three-point specialist. Coach Staley would not elaborate on where Kennedy’s sudden game adjustments have come from, but one basketball analyst noted that Kennedy’s midrange proficiency looks stunningly like girlfriend Paige Bueckers’s. This is not surprising in the slightest as Kennedy and Bueckers spent the offseason together on a joint “world-tour” that evidently included lots and lots of time in the gym.

The SEC tournament has come and gone with, you guessed it, South Carolina as the winner, having defeated Tennessee and LSU back to back. South Carolina dominated the first five rounds of the NCAA tournament. In the Final Four, they defeated UCLA in a convincing 78-71 victory. For the championship match, they’re against UConn, who is fresh off of a hard-fought Final Four victory against Notre Dame.

This is precisely the clash of the titans that basketball fans have been looking forward to since June of 2023. UConn vs. South Carolina. Bueckers vs. Kennedy. This is a rematch for the 2022 championship game wherein UConn fell short, but many are questioning South Carolina’s ability to go back to back, especially since UConn has seen tremendous growth over the past season. With a healthy Azzi Fudd and a healthy Aubrey Griffin, sharpshooters Ashlynn Shade and Allie Ziebell, energetic KK Arnold and Morgan Cheli, imposing Jana El-Alfy, transfer portal weapon Kaitlyn Chen, do-it-all field general Paige Bueckers, and Sarah Strong – no title, Sarah Strong is that girl – UConn is a fan favorite to win. With the final tipoff only an hour away, we are at the edge of our seats in anticipation. Let us know in the comments below – who are you rooting for?

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

APRIL 6, 2025

If there’s one thing that Tess knows is true about Paige Bueckers after over a year of dating, it’s that Paige always keeps her promise.

You and me, same time next year?

Tess watches her warm up only a half court away. She’s stunning, donning a UConn sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, her hair up in her gameday braids that Tess has full intention of ruining later after her girlfriend is crowned an NCAA champion. That thought alone shouldn’t excite her as much as it does, but she can’t help herself. Paige and her team have worked incredibly hard to be here – Tess has gotten to witness that first hand. She also can’t help feeling a little smug because she was right. Kaitlyn Chen, transfer portal weapon. Freshmen Morgan Cheli and Allie Ziebell – they both needed a few games to get comfortable, but once they were hot, they were hot. And finally, Sarah fucking Strong, Paige’s freshman menace that honestly needs to declare right now because college basketball will not be safe with her on the court.

Tess has no intention of rolling over and letting them win – Paige would honestly break up with her, which would ruin the entirety of Tess’s five year plan: get drafted. Win some shit. Dunk on Paige Bueckers. Marry Paige Bueckers. Free agency. Simple and easy. But Tess also knows that UConn will be playing with something to lose, a chip to win, and that they were easily the most challenging match-up they’d faced all year with the exception of the final SEC teams. UConn defeated them at home, even after Tess dropped 20 hard fought points – they honestly just had no answer for Sarah Strong, which is becoming a recurring theme as of late.

“Oh my God, not this shit again,” Raven complains. Tess turns just in time to catch the ball that Raven had definitely aimed at her ass.

“Stop throwing balls at me!” Tess exclaims, chucking the ball back.

“Stop staring at your girlfriend!” Raven retorts. “Like, for real. It’s making me sick. Do you want me throwing up before a natty match?” Tess pauses, tapping her chin dramatically like she has to truly think about it. “I wish you’d declared last year. That way I wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this ‘when will my wife come back from war’ bullshit.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “Where’s Chloe at? I suddenly have an opening in my bridal party.”

“Wait, no!” Raven says quickly, her entire expression shifting. “You can’t kick me out of the wedding. I didn’t even know I was in it!”

“You weren’t,” Tess states bluntly, which makes Raven huff again. “Kam’s my maid of honor, obviously. Then Aliyah’s coming, Bree, Destanni, Zia. Do you think I can get A’ja there?”

Raven looks her up and down, unimpressed. “No,” she says flatly. “You’ll be marrying a Husky.”

Tess lights up. “Oh my God, I can get Stewie there. That’d be cool, too.”

“How about you pump the brakes and lock the fuck in so your girlfriend doesn’t embarass us?” Raven suggests. “Like, did that ever cross your mind?”

She shrugs sheepishly. “I’m locked in,” she says. “Go do your weird pregame rituals, sacrifice a chicken or something.”

Raven rolls her eyes, stalking away with her ball. Tess watches her try to sweet talk an assistant coach into rebounding for her and she can’t help but smile. She’ll miss Raven when she’s in the league – sure, they’ll keep in contact, but it’s different when you’re no longer a few doors down from everyone. She’ll miss all of her girls. Not Ashlyn, though. The charges may have been dropped but assault and battery and kidnapping? Is nobody the least bit concerned? Tess digresses, though. She’s gonna miss her team, especially annoying ass Raven Johnson who likes throwing shit at people.

Before she returns to her own warmups, Tess looks across the court once more. Paige is already staring at her. They share a soft, private smile – and then Paige is grabbing Sarah by the sleeve of her shirt, causing her shot to sail out of bounds as Paige points at her with a proud smile that clearly says look at my freshman! Sarah looks unbelievably confused at first, but levels Paige with a nasty side eye once she realizes that she’s been dragged in as a ploy to tease Tess. She shrugs out of Paige’s grasp to continue shooting which makes Tess laugh and Paige huff dramatically.

The both of them resume their warmups and before they know it, tip off has come around. Paige, Sarah, Azzi, Jana, and Kaitlyn are starting for UConn, whereas Raven, Chloe, Tess, Sania, and Te-Hina are starting for South Carolina. Both teams set up around Chloe and Jana to receive the opening tip, and once the referee throws the ball into the air, Jana knocks it over to the Huskies. Sarah kicks it out to Paige, who begins directing traffic as she brings the ball up court. Tess, tasked with guarding Azzi, sticks on her like glue, trying to not let her get her hands on the ball. Raven’s defense is suffocating, but Sarah gets open and Paige passes it swiftly to her. As Chloe and Sania fold in on her to prevent the shot, Sarah passes to Jana, who gets the easy layup under the bucket. Sania inbounds to Raven. She’s delayed in bringing the ball up due to Kaitlyn’s defensive pressure, and, much to Tess’s surprise, Paige is guarding her and Azzi is on Te-Hina.

Raven dribbles, directing the other four on the court while trying to keep the ball far away from Kaitlyn, but the congestion becomes too much and she passes it to Te-Hina. Azzi’s defense is relentless, too, and eventually, Te-Hina passes to Sania, who passes to Tess on the wing, and she knows she can’t get crafty. She and Paige spent the entire summer in the gym together. Paige knows her moves as well as she knows her own, which is why she keeps pressing her further and further away from the three point line and Jana angles herself to clog her lane to the bucket. The clock is winding down, so she makes the decision to squeeze past Paige, driving to the bucket, but at the last moment, she passes it behind her back to where she knows Sania is waiting. She shoots and it swishes in.

The first quarter is incredibly close. Every time South Carolina gets a defensive stop, UConn responds with one of their own. A two-point jumper is countered by a layup, Azzi and Tess go three for three. Tess steals the ball on one possession, although Chloe gives it right back as she tries to get smart on a pass. By the first media timeout, Tess has five points, two assists, and a steal, although UConn leads them 14-12. Both teams take the time to sub out and let some of the starters rest. Bree, Ashlyn, MiLaysia, and Joyce come in for Tess, Chloe, Te-Hina, and Sania respectively while KK, Aubrey, Ashlynn, and Ice enter for Kaitlyn, Sarah, Azzi, and Jana.

Once play resumes, Tess almost immediately understands the game plan. Raven guards Paige on UConn’s offensive possessions, but when South Carolina has the ball, Paige guards MiLaysia, a high scoring guard just like Tess. Depending on who is on the floor, KK or Kaitlyn defend Raven or whoever is running point for South Carolina at the time. Raven’s defense is suffocating, but most of all, exhausting – tasking someone else with guarding Raven gives Paige more opportunities to score rather than tire herself out, but her own defensive assignments are focused on shutting down South Carolina’s point producing guards. Tess was held to five points with Paige on her, shooting only two out of her five attempted shots. She wasn’t completely useless, though – she held Azzi to six points, congesting two of the four shots she took.

She sits for the rest of the first quarter. The score is up to 25-20 in UConn’s favor and all of the starters are back on the court for the second quarter. It’s hard fought, too. There’s not a lot of foul calls going either way tonight, but the lead is so slim that Tess doesn’t want to overstep on defense and give away points. At 31-24 in favor of UConn, Paige is subbed out for KK, which means Tess finally gets a bit of a breather on defense. KK is unrelenting, but Paige had played a little closer, a much tighter game as she knew Tess so well as a player. She couldn’t even be mad about that, although she did take advantage of two back-to-back threes, pushing the score to 34-30. UConn still has a slight lead, but Paige gets subbed back in. Tess knows she has to play smarter now and take better shots.

Halfway through the second quarter, Raven gets subbed out for a breather, too, and UConn immediately puts the pressure on Maddy, not used to the intensity that the UConn starters were playing with. Kaitlyn forces a turnover, sailing it high to Paige, who lays it in the basket with ease and winks at Tess as she passes her to get back on defense. In response, Tess calls for the ball and Maddy passes it to her. She doesn’t call for a screen or any sort of help as she steps back, shooting for three directly over Paige’s head. They watch it both fall in seamlessly, much to the crowd’s amusement, and Tess sticks up her fingers in an ‘L’ shape as she backpedals for defense. Paige shakes her head, amused, but at 41-38, the both of them know they need to lock back in.

The two teams trade a few more shots and stops before the end of the quarter, entering half with 47-41, UConn leading. Paige also hit a nasty buzzer beater to welcome in halftime, which sent the UConn bench and the crowd into a frenzy, but Tess doesn’t think that’s something important to note. Paige doesn’t need the ego boost and it wasn’t that cool, anyways. If Tess wanted to, she could have had a better buzzer beater.

In the locker room, Coach Staley emphasizes the need for defensive stops while the team catches their breath. Ball movement and being selective with shooting was also important – as a team, they were shooting 39% and taking far too many contested shots when there were wide open players on the wing. Tess honestly couldn’t be doing much more – she’d racked up 16 points. Joyce and Te-Hina were doing their thing too, but UConn was overwhelming. Their points were far more widespread with Aubrey, Sarah, Azzi, and Paige leading the pack. Ashlynn had two crucial three point shots, KK was critical on defense as she was forcing turnovers and fastbreak points, and Tess has never seen anyone hustle for rebounds like Morgan does. UConn was playing a cohesive game and they were struggling to respond in full.

The second half goes similar to the first, although UConn starts to make a concerted effort to break away. They’re playing with a renewed vigor and while Azzi, Paige, and Ashlynn were crucial in the first half, they start scoring a lot more points in the paint. Sarah, Jana, and Aubrey are particularly explosive and Ice holds her own when she subs in halfway through the third to give Jana a break. Defensively, they’re all restless – they’d played so conservatively in the first half while South Carolina tried to wear them out that their energy is overwhelming and is exhausting South Carolina. By the end of the third, UConn had extended the lead to 67-56. Tess is up to 26 points now, but it’s not doing enough to clear the deficit.

All of the starters are back on the floor at the beginning of the fourth for one last push, and for a while, it works. South Carolina holds out UConn and they go on a 9-0 scoring run, evening the score to 67-65 with three minutes left. Paige hits a long three, increasing the lead to five points, Azzi forces Te-Hina to turn the ball over and she sprints for the basket, although she passes behind her to Sarah for the finish, and Tess is a little too strong on her three point jumper and it bounces off the rim directly into Kaitlyn’s hands. She scores, pushing the score to 74-65. One minute, thirty seconds left.

The last bit of the game is frantic. Tess and South Carolina try to get the lead back, but UConn is unrelenting, pushing against them on every possession. Jana scores. Sania scores. Kaitlyn shoots, but Raven blocks it. Chloe scores on the fastbreak, and with twenty seconds left, the game is up to 78-69 with UConn steady in the lead. There’s no coming back from this gap and UConn has the ball. Tess thinks Paige just plans on dribbling it out, but as the clock winds down, five…four…three…two… she shoots from the perimeter, the shot clock expiring, and the last three, the nail on the head, swishes in cleanly as the crowd erupts. UConn had just won the 2025 national championship, and all Tess feels is overwhelming relief.

Confetti pours down, covering every inch of the court as all of the Huskies swarm and pile on one another. Paige’s smile is bright, beaming, and Tess swears she can see the tears streaming from afar. Then, they lock eyes, Paige in the middle of a bunch of jostling, and she has the decency to look a little sad for her, but honestly, Tess doesn’t care. She grins at her girlfriend, making a heart with her hands. The relief is palpable on Paige’s expression but Tess knows she needs the time to celebrate with her teammates, so she turns away, patting her own teammates on the back and murmuring her own congratulations.

Sania and Joyce were explosive in the paint. A vast majority of their points had come from them and Tess, but it just wasn’t enough to beat the deficit. Tess would find the stat sheet later, but she racked up 31 points – 61 in two back to back championship games wasn’t too shabby, and honestly, the 31 points feels more like an accomplishment than the win. She’s a competitor, she lives to win and loathes losing, but tonight doesn’t feel like a loss at all, despite what the box score will say. Looking back at everything she’s accomplished, she’s satisfied where she is. She’s grown as a player, as a person. She went from almost being the cause of her end in her junior year to dragging herself out of the deep end, committing to rehab, and winning the natty on the redemption match. This year, she molded herself into a better basketball player, cementing herself in the Gamecock record books – and while she doesn’t have a natty win this year, she’s not mad about it. It’s difficult to describe but at a certain point, the win just doesn’t matter anymore. It’s the journey, growing with your team, and everything you did leading up to it.

Last year, she said she has everything she’s ever wanted, and that much is still true. She has her rings, she has an excellent collegiate career, she has records that will be damn near impossible to beat until the next Tess Kennedy is recruited to South Carolina. She has the best friends in the world, the best girlfriend in the world, her knee is healed, she’s healed, and in less than two weeks, she’ll be drafted to play professionally wherever the wind takes her. The past two years have been the best and the worst time of her life but never will she ever wish that anything occurred differently. It’s all led her to this – her wins, her losses, to Paige. It’s more than she could have ever wished for.

She showers, zones out during the presser until the questions are directed at her, which she answers robotically, uncaring. When she’s out, she locates Paige in the tunnel, who scoops her up with such unadulterated glee and excitement that Tess giggles like a fucking schoolgirl. Paige is fresh, clean, and fuck it, she’s hers, and sue her if she sounds like a broken record, but she just loves her. “Congrats, baby,” Tess says into her neck, feeling Paige squeeze her around the middle before she lowers her to the ground.

“Thank you,” Paige murmurs as she presses a soft, unhurried kiss to Tess’s lips. “Promise you didn’t sell on purpose?”

Tess scoffs, shoving her away with a hand to her chest as Paige laughs, a sound that’s infectious and far too annoyingly charming. “Paige Madison. I dropped 31 on your ass and you think I sold?”

“Locked you down,” Paige says.

“Maybe romantically but not in basketball,” Tess corrects. Paige’s face brightens and Tess can’t help but lean in to kiss her again. “Congrats though, for real.” Paige’s eyes blink open, tilting her head down slightly to gaze at Tess, her expression full of lingering excitement, love, and unequivocal happiness. “You worked so hard for this. I’m proud of you, you know? 28 points, too? Who you showin’ out for?”

Paige laughs at Tess’s impression of her. “For you, always.” Tess can’t help but soften, grinning in that stupid way Paige always elicits. “We’re goin’ out,” she says. “The team, I mean. Some bar Aubrey found. You wanna come with us? You don’t gotta do nothing you don’t wanna and they’re all keepin’ it lowkey, nothin’ crazy–”

“Paige,” Tess interrupts, watching an adorable flush appear on Paige’s cheeks. “Don’t worry about me. Celebrate with your team, okay?”

“I’m always gonna worry about you,” Paige says, a little indignant. “You’re my girl. S’my job. But I want you there if you wanna be there.”

“You’re amazing, and I love you.”

Paige sighs. “Where’s the ‘but?’”

Tess rolls her eyes. “But you need to spend time with your team. Alone, without your unbelievably sexy girlfriend distracting you. You’re gonna miss them once you’re drafted. I need to chill tonight, so I’m gonna play UNO with my girls and stack +4s on Chloe to get her back for missing a layup that would have made our score look a little less pathetic.” Tess kisses the pout off of Paige’s lips. “I could convince Bree to room with Raven tonight?” she suggests intentionally.

“Okay!” Paige agrees quickly, her voice cracking, squeezing Tess’s hips once more, causing her to laugh lightly. Paige presses her lips to Tess’s forehead, the shorter of the two feeling the curve of her smirk. “I’ll see you later. Don’t fall asleep. I love you.”

Tess huffs, which makes Paige grin. She loves being on Tess’s nerves more than anything else. “I love you, too. Have fun and don’t drink anything KK gives you.”

Paige only shakes her head, their noses brushing slightly. “Not drinking. Wanna remember tonight.” Heat rises to Tess’s cheeks as she’s suddenly aware of what the night holds for them, but Paige just smiles at her, releasing her hips and squeezing her hand one last time before she disappears inside the media room for the presser. Tess exhales, shaking her head like an etch-a-sketch to fix her train of thought before she gathers herself and makes her way out to the team bus.

She slides into the seat next to Bree, placing her bag on the floor. “You’re rooming with Raven tonight,” Tess says to her.

Bree stares at her long and hard before her expression hardens. “You’re a fucking freak,” she gripes. “But you’re buying me breakfast tomorrow morning.” In lieu of a response, Tess pulls her wallet out of her pocket and hands over a $20 bill. Bree wrinkles her nose, her face going through the five stages of grief. Tess can’t even bring herself to feel ashamed as Bree takes the money. “God,” she whispers. “Freaks.”

Tess only smiles.

After a couple hours of music and various games, Tess says her final goodbyes to her teammates before she heads back to her room at the end of the hall. Paige had texted her only moments before that she was on her way back to the hotel, which she took as her cue to go. Her teammates gave her knowing looks, but Tess couldn’t find it in herself to be any sort of embarrassed.

Bree had cleared out most of her stuff before they all gathered in Raven’s room for games, but Tess just makes the conscious effort to clean up a little. She knew Paige wouldn’t care. Whether or not Bree’s bed was made would be the last thing on Paige’s mind if Tess had anything to say about it. Despite that, she just wanted it to look nicer for her. Paige had just won a championship, damn it, and she deserves something a little more fitting of that.

Tess isn’t nervous, but she’s almost giddy with anticipation and excitement. The last time she and Paige saw each other was when they played each other in February. They were unable to synchronize their schedules for spring break, so Tess is reasonably going through girlfriend withdrawals. She just wants to be close to Paige – nothing inherently sexual about it, but she misses their intimacy now that they’re always hundreds of miles apart. It will be the same situation when they get drafted – Tess watched the lottery despite everyone’s recommendations not to, but they’ll have a little bit more money and freedom to make the distance work once they’re in the league. But the league is the last thing she wants to worry about right now.

She checks herself one last time in the mirror, satisfied, but she pulls off her South Carolina hoodie, shivering a little at the chill in the room, and rummages through her suitcase until she finds the white jersey tucked underneath the rest of her clothes. A large 5 is emblazoned on the front and the back, the Big East logo on the collar, just a size too big for her – she’d stolen it directly from Paige’s bag when they played each other in February and they hung out after the game, but she supposes her lie was just convincing enough because Paige genuinely thought she left it in the locker room. She pulls the hoodie over her head, not bothering to tuck it into her sleep shorts, and gives herself one last look before smiling.

A knock at the door draws her attention. Finding her resolve, she walks over and opens it, coming face to face with Paige, whose cheeks are slightly flushed from the Tampa heat. “Hey – oh.” Paige stops in her tracks immediately, her eyes wide as she takes in Tess’s attire. Her jaw hangs open slightly as she leans against the door.

Tess laughs, reaching for Paige’s hands and pulling her inside. Paige lets herself be dragged, but she remembers where they are and closes the door, setting the lock without looking away from Tess. “You like?” Tess asks, tugging on the hem of the jersey to showcase Paige’s number. She smiles at Paige, a little smug but also a little breathless. Paige isn’t sure where to look – her face, her jersey, her legs, long and lithe and bare with the exception of a pair of shorts that would otherwise be indecent. “Figured I’d try something new.”

“Do I like?” Paige repeats, sounding a little incredulous. Her voice is rough and Tess shivers, feeling the heat pool low in her belly as Paige rests her hands on her hips, her fingertips brushing the swell of her ass. She pulls Tess into her until there’s barely an inch of space in between them – Tess can feel Paige breathing against her, her breath minty and fresh, her cologne so prominent and heady in the air that Tess’s head spins. “Like doesn’t even begin to cover it,” she murmurs, her lips dragging across the line of Tess’s jaw. Tess tilts her head back, giving Paige more access as she sighs softly. Paige’s fingers bunch in the fabric of her jersey as she noses her way down her neck, pressing wet kisses to her skin. A groan builds low in the back of her throat as she pulls away, her eyes blown wide and slightly out of breath. “D’you have any idea what this does to me?”

Tess chuckles, letting Paige lead her towards the bed, trusting her to not let her fall over. “I think I’m starting to understand,” she says. Paige smiles at her, softening the heat of the moment. Tess can’t help the grin that covers her face as she pulls Paige on top of her, sliding her zip up UConn jacket off of her shoulders. Paige situates herself in the gap created by Tess’s outstretched legs, leaning down to finally press their lips together. Their kiss is tender, lingering, and slow; Paige is deliberate in the way her hand slips under Tess’s jersey, her fingers brushing against her skin, and Tess sighs against her. They part and the expression on Paige’s face is so soft, blissed out like she has everything she’s ever wanted right in front of her. That thought alone fills Tess with an overwhelming amount of love and appreciation that she can’t help her starstruck smile. “You played really well today,” she whispers, working her fingers against Paige’s hair tie as she loosens her braids.

Paige hums, her eyes closing when Tess’s fingers drag across her scalp. “Says you,” she retorts, her head dropping to Tess’s shoulder. Her lips find her neck again, nipping gently and soothing the bite with a pass of her tongue. “31 fuckin’ points?” Paige emphasizes her words with an emphatic groan, her hands pushing up Tess’s jersey and her fingertips just barely breaching under her bra strap. “You tryna go to Dallas?”

Tess laughs, tangling her fingers through Paige’s hair as the blonde hides her smile against her neck. “Nah. That’s all you. I’m very happy going number two.”

Paige scoffs. “Yeah, ‘cause you get Cam and Rickea.”

Tess smiles knowingly, rolling her eyes. ��Your hand is literally under my shirt and you wanna talk about other people right now?” Paige glances down, her brows raising and her eyes lingering on just how far the jersey is bunched up, miles upon miles of Tess’s tanned skin on display.

“Take this shit off,” she says, hands reaching for the hem of the jersey. Tess raises her arms compliantly and Paige pulls it over her head, throwing it to the side before leaning down and connecting their lips again. Tess relaxes immediately, circling her arms around Paige’s neck, drawing her in closer and closer until the space between them is negligible. Paige’s hands are warm against her bare skin. One leaves her chest to cup her jaw, her lips slowing, controlling the pace. Every motion is purposeful, deep and lingering, until Paige pulls back just enough that her nose brushes against Tess’s. “Wanna take my time with you.”

“You won,” Tess reminds her, fighting through the burn on her cheeks as Paige presses open-mouthed kisses to her neck, her jaw. “Tonight’s for you.”

“Yeah,” Paige agrees, her mind clearly elsewhere as she pulls her shirt over her head. Tess’s mouth dries instantly, her gaze unashamed as she takes in Paige’s toned figure, the definition of her abs despite the softness of her stomach. She’s equal parts sinew and grace, beautiful beyond any human measurement – Tess would never be able to put Paige’s beauty into words. She transcends language and meaning and Tess is so irrevocably in love that it should scare her; her feelings are overwhelming in the best way possible and Paige doesn’t even know the extent of it.

“Paige,” Tess tries again, her hands reaching up to push Paige’s hair out of her face.

She shakes her head, her hand returning to Tess’s jaw as she kisses her again, taking the very breath from her lungs and relishing in the sigh that she pulls from her throat. Her hand slips lower, her thumb brushing the apple of her throat while her index finger rests on her pulse point, feeling the spike in her heart rate. “Wanna take care of you,” Paige murmurs, the plea evident in her expression when she pulls away. “Want this to last, wanna feel you. Please?” She dips lower, her lips pressing against her skin, and Tess doesn’t have any choice but to let Paige have her way. She nods, her hands finding purchase on Paige’s shoulder blades as Paige descends further, her lips leaving marks over her clavicles.

Paige undresses the both of them with a deliberate slowness. Her hands roam like she’s trying to commit every inch of Tess’s body to memory, her eyes wide in wonder. Paige stares at her like it’s the first time all over again and it makes Tess shiver, feeling warmth all over. They spent the entire offseason together, late nights in hotel rooms much like this one as they travelled. They’re far from the first time, but the fact that Paige still handles her with the utmost care, respect, and devotion only makes her needier.

When they’re both bare, the first press of Paige’s skin against her own is electrifying. She draws Paige in again, connecting their lips, relishing in the soft, unhurried push and pull as Paige’s hands roam. They’re firm around her hips, her thumbs brushing the area where her thighs meet her pelvis. Then they’re trailing up, brushing against her navel, gripping her love handles and the parts of her stomach where she’s more skin than muscle. Further up, Paige’s hands splay out across the lower end of her ribcage. The amount of skin that her hands cover makes Tess ache, but Paige keeps wandering, her hands cupping her breasts, thumbs tweaking her nipples. Tess sighs at the contact and Paige immediately takes advantage of the way her jaw drops, deepening their kiss as Tess holds on to her shoulders for stability.

She can feel the flex of Paige’s muscle, see the way her shoulder blades jut out slightly – it shouldn’t excite her, but it does. She’s firm, solid, soft, and human, a paradox and a myriad of different feelings. Tess can’t help but be attracted to every single thing she does and every single thing she is. God took his time creating Paige, that much Tess was sure of; the fact that Paige is hers, for better, for worse, forever, makes her feel like she needs to be far more thankful than she already is.

Paige pulls back. Tess nearly whines at the loss of contact until she takes in the blown out and messy look on Paige’s face. Her lips are swollen, spit-slick, covered in the lingering smear of Tess’s lip gloss. “Okay?” she asks, her voice rough. The check-in is just a reminder of how much Paige loves her. It never fails to make her heart beat out of her chest.

Tess nods, her hands coming up to smooth out the baby hairs at the back of Paige’s neck, damp with sweat. “Keep going,” she requests, closing her eyes when she feels Paige kiss her cheek, her jaw, the spot under her ear that makes her shiver.

“Wanna try something with you,” she murmurs, squeezing her around the hips, and Tess blinks her eyes open to stare at her. A new, shy sort of flush creeps up her neck and Tess gives her a reassuring kiss.

“Anything,” she says, her voice soft, albeit a little breathless. “You know I trust you.”

Paige glances up, searching her eyes for any hint of falsehood. When she finds none, she leans in, kissing Tess one last time before pulling back. “Tell me to stop and I will,” she says. Tess nods again, waiting with a bated breath as Paige pulls back completely, much to her chagrin, but her hands find her knees, spreading her legs wider, slotting her own legs under and over Tess’s thighs like puzzle pieces, and – Oh. They haven’t even made full contact but her entire body burns. Paige is just as red, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. “Okay?” she asks again, her words sounding a little choked.

Tess nods rapidly, not trusting herself to speak, but her words spill out anyway. “Please,” she says, looping her arms around her neck again. Paige nods, too, her breath a little shaky, but she connects their lips, swallowing the greedy sound that Tess makes when their cores finally align. Her fingers dig into Paige’s shoulders, eliciting a groan from the blonde as she rolls her hips experimentally. Paige is warm against her, slick against her skin, and the brush of her clit against her own nearly makes her soul leave her body.

Her head tilts back, overcome with euphoria and pleasure, and Paige takes advantage immediately. Her lips are on her neck before she has the chance to react, sucking dark, purple marks on her skin, soothing the sting with her tongue. Tess pushes her hips into Paige’s, causing her rhythm to falter and a whine to fall from her lips. Tess really likes that sound, when Paige succumbs to the feelings and lets her hear it. “Fuck,” Paige whimpers. “That’s it.”

That sends a wave of heat directly to Tess’s core. She ruts up again, relishing in Paige’s exhaled moan, the way her elbows shake as she tries to hold herself up. Each and every roll of her hips adds to the tightening band in her stomach, threatening to snap as her pleasure builds – but it feels like she’s reached a plateau. She pushes against her a little faster, trying to chase the high, which forces more of those sounds to tumble from Paige’s mouth. The feel of her skin against hers, sticky with sweat, is intoxicating in the best way possible; the roll of her hips sets her nerves on fire; and when she glances down, her eyes honing in on where their bodies connect, Tess grips her shoulders a little tighter as she cries out, her nails leaving marks in their wake. “Paige,” she gasps, feeling Paige’s nose brush against her collarbone, licking the salt off of her skin. “Talk, please.”

“Yeah?” she asks, her voice a little broken and high-pitched as she holds out, trying to make Tess reach her peak first. The sound of her so wrecked, so destroyed makes Tess tremble beneath her. “Wanted you to – fuck, wanted you to come with me earlier,” she babbles. Tess barely registers that she means the bar. “Wanted to show you off. Tell everyone you’re mine. Wanted to kiss you in front of everyone, take you back here – fuck, Tess, right there – take you back here and show you how much I want you.”

“Keep going, please,” she begs. Tears of pleasure bead at her waterline. The brush of their cunts and the whine in Paige’s voice makes her dizzy with desire.

Paige sighs, the sound getting trapped in her throat as her lips find her ear, her ruts becoming a little more desperate. And when Tess’s hips jump up again, seeking out that pleasure, Paige’s breath catches. She leans her head against Tess’s shoulder, her body tense with the effort of trying to stay composed. “God, there you go,” she murmurs, her breath fanning against the shell of her ear. “Take it, baby, whatever you need – gonna give it to you, I promise.”

Tess whimpers, her grip tightening as she rolls her hips against Paige’s, her pleasure building and nearing the peak as she confesses, “Paige, I’m gonna–”

“That’s it,” Paige whimpers, meeting Tess’s hips with more purpose, more intensity, guiding her closer and closer. When Paige keens into her ear, her voice cracking, “Fuck, I love you – so perfect for me,” Tess falls apart completely, clutching onto Paige as her orgasm washes over her. Paige is right behind her; Tess can feel her release, her body shuddering against her own. They rock together as they ease through the aftershocks, drawing back when the sensitivity becomes too much.

Carefully, Paige extracts herself from Tess, the both of them exhaling when they disconnect. Paige rolls onto the bed next to her, her head finding home on Tess’s chest as she slings an arm across her stomach. Neither of them say anything for a while, sitting in a satisfied silence as they try to catch their breaths. It’s Tess who finally breaks the quiet when she says, “I think you ruined me.”

That makes Paige laugh, still breathless. She cocks her head, meeting Tess’s eyes. Gingerly, she wipes away the tears on her cheeks, smooths out the hair at the crown of her head. “Good,” she murmurs, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to Tess’s lips, a stark contrast from the moment prior. “Gotta trap you so you stay with me forever.”

Tess snorts, brushing her nails against Paige’s jaw and cheek gently. “Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that.” Paige hums, her fingertips tracing patterns against her ribcage as their breathing finally evens out. A few moments pass. “Are you sleeping?” Tess asks, a little shy.

“Yes,” Paige deadpans, but she turns her head again, smiling up at Tess. Her expression is soft, relaxed, blissed out. “What’s up?”

Tess can’t help the smile that breaks out across her face. “I love you,” she says simply.

Paige’s entire demeanor brightens. She tightens her grip around Tess’s middle, drawing in closer and pressing her lips to her chest, directly over her heart. “I love you, too.”

Tess tangles her fingers in Paige’s hair, smoothing out the flyaway strands near her temple. Paige smiles against her, her face tranquil, happy. In a little over a week from now, they’ll be in Brooklyn together for the 2025 draft. They’ll be selected to play in the professional league, which is everything they’ve dreamed of and more, although their dreams have expanded to include each other. Tess has everything she’s ever wanted in life – an outstanding college career, a promising future, Paige, and she can’t wait for the rest of their lives together.

APRIL 14, 2025

Tess can’t believe this is her life right now.

She, her parents, and Bree and Raven are sitting at a table in the Brooklyn Academy of Music, the selected venue for the 2025 WNBA Draft. The energy in the atmosphere is electric – there’s muted chatter, excited hopefuls trying not to freak out about which team will be selecting them. Tess is a mixture of anticipation and nerves. She’s been the predicted number two draft pick for months now, only second to Paige, which she can’t even be upset by. She has a pretty good idea of where she’s going, but she can’t help being worried about dropping in the rankings – the 2025 draft class is full of young talent. She wouldn’t mind Chicago. Playing with Kam again would be amazing, and Washington isn’t bad, either. She is really interested in the Liberty, mostly because they made such a good impression on her during rehab and that’s not something she would ever forget. Unfortunately, the Liberty decided to do the worst possible thing ever and win a championship, which means they’re nowhere close to getting Tess unless they want to trade up and Tess highly doubts they’d be willing to part with their entire roster just for her.

Tess can’t keep her eyes off of Paige. It’s slowly becoming a recurring theme as of late, much to the chagrin of everyone around her, but she can’t help it. She sits only a table away, surrounded by Bob, Amy, Drew, Lauren, and Ryan. The happiness is evident on her face, her hair done up in a ponytail with two loose strands framing her face, and her make-up natural. The real nail on the coffin is the tailored suit she’s wearing. It’s a dark purple in color, nearly black; several buttons on the blazer are undone to reveal the sharp lines of her clavicle and the dark shades of her undershirt. A chain glimmers around her neck, rings adorning her fingers, including the rose thumb ring Tess had gifted her for their first Christmas, before they knew they loved each other. Tess is honestly too much of an overachiever – she picked the finest person in the world to be her girlfriend and now the repercussions of that are coming back to bite her in the ass.

Her stylist – well, Paige’s stylist, Brittany Hampton is the goat – did her big one, too. Brittany has her decked out in a rich, dark, glossy, blue satin dress. Much like Paige’s suit, the shade is dark enough that it almost appears black, but the blue hue sticks out, complementing her complexion perfectly. Her heels match (and most importantly, they’re tall enough that she and Paige are finally eye level). Her jewelry is minimalist, donning her signature bracelet and their charms, along with a gorgeous necklace Paige had bought her for their second Christmas together – the first as an official couple. The both of them look good, probably too good, and Tess is preparing herself to cut someone if they stare at Paige for too long.

Her family and friends try to make small talk to distract her from the looming draft, but her heart isn’t in the conversation. Her mind runs a mile a minute; she’s thinking about all of the iterations of the mock draft – honestly, she should have listened to Paige when she told her not to watch the draft lottery or get too invested in the draft talk, anyhow. She’s thinking about Paige, how she looks so gorgeous at her table; she’s thinking about how Paige’s dreams are coming true right before her and that chokes her up a little bit. Paige was a little kid once, just like her, dribbling a ball that was nearly as big as she was – now she’s here, the predicted number one pick and it just feels like everything’s coming into fruition. They’ve both worked incredibly hard for this, all of the trials and tribulations and injuries and miscommunication – they’re here, together, and Tess couldn’t dream of anything better than that.

Finally, the beginning of the draft rolls around as the WNBA commissioner, Cathy Engelbert, steps up to the podium for opening remarks. Tess motions to wipe her sweaty hands on her dress, but Bree’s gripping her wrists and pushing a small handcloth into her waiting palms. Bree knows her so well and Tess gives her a silent nod of thanks, a small smile. She doesn’t think she’s quite made her peace with the fact she’s leaving her girls behind after today. Training camps and final roster deliberations and the preseason all await, but Bree’s rubbing her shoulder and murmuring, “Soak it in, babe, we’re so proud of you,” and she thinks that maybe she’s on the right track.

Cathy leaves the podium to await the official first pick. Tess glances at Paige again, who is clearly dissociated as she tries to not look at the cameras that are obviously pointing at her. Then, she glances over, her eyes finding Tess’s. Her entire demeanor shifts and a bright smile spreads across her face. It’s scrunchy, somehow both soft and mischievous, but Tess knows her well enough by now to understand that smile is reserved for her only. KK called it her “Tess smile” which was a little ridiculous, but when Tess returns her grin, the love clear as day in her expression, she knows that KK’s observation had a little merit.

Cathy returns with the pick in hand. The entire room falls silent, waiting with a bated breath as the older woman leans into the microphone. “With the first pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft, the Dallas Wings select…Paige Bueckers, University of Connecticut.”

The room breaks into applause immediately as the tears spring to Tess’s eyes, overcome with emotion and appreciation for her girlfriend. Paige stands, embracing her parents, her siblings, and then she’s stepping towards Tess’s table, her expression so grateful and a little awestruck. Tess reminds herself that they’re in front of thousands of people, in front of prominent WNBA players and coaches as she molds herself into Paige’s arms, keeping it classy as Paige squeezes her tightly around her waist. “God, I’m so proud of you,” Tess murmurs, feeling Paige’s shoulders shake a little bit with her emotions. “I love you. Go get your jersey.”

Paige huffs out a laugh, releasing Tess as she wipes at her waterline. “I love you. See you soon,” she says, winking at her, which makes Tess chuckle, taking a seat and watching Paige make her way to the stage. Tess pulls out her phone, taking photo after photo as Paige poses with the commissioner and the Wings jersey.

Holly Rowe talks her through a couple of interview questions, her responses making the crowd aww or applaud, and soon enough, she’s returning to her table, embracing her family once more and smiling gently at Tess. Cathy returns to the podium after allowing the allotted time for the next selection.

“With the second pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft, the Los Angeles Sparks select…Tess Kennedy, University of South Carolina.”

Tess doesn’t register it at first until her family and friends are cheering, their applause loud, and Tess finally snaps back into reality as she stands with an elated, shocked laugh. She pulls Raven and Bree into her arms, her teammates whispering their congratulations before her parents pull her into bone-crushing embraces. And finally, she makes her way to Paige’s table – she was polite for Paige’s pick, but this is different now; it’s hers and after what she’s been through, she can’t find it in herself to care much for what’s proper. She throws herself into Paige’s arms, squeezing tight enough that anyone else would have complained, but Paige holds onto her with the same intensity as she murmurs, “So proud of you, baby. You and me, huh?”

Tess laughs, the sound tearful. “You and me,” she affirms, releasing her girlfriend, and she makes her way up to the podium where Cathy holds out the yellow and purple jersey to her. She takes it, her fingers trembling a little.

When she makes it down, the reporter waiting for her isn’t Holly Rowe. She’s blonde, radiant, and shorter than Tess, but Tess gets the strangest feeling like she knows her. She glances down at the lanyard around her neck, the media pass reading P. LANCASTER. Tess grins. “Tess, you were just selected number two overall for the 2025 WNBA Draft. Can you tell me what was going through your mind leading up to the pick?”

“Um, ‘don’t throw up,’” she answers honestly. Her candor makes the crowd laugh. She chuckles, feeling some of the pressure ease off of her as she gives a proper answer, the usual ‘I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I was a kid,’ and ‘I’m so grateful to be here and this is an honor that I don’t take lightly.’

The reporter talks her through a few more questions, such as how excited she is to be working with the Sparks. Between Cameron and Rickea, Tess feels like she’s in good hands, and knowing that Lynne Roberts, the new head coach, is a huge fan of three-point shooting, she feels like there’s a lot she can bring to the team. The reporter asks a fluff question about getting used to the Los Angeles heat, to which Tess jokingly responds with, “Well, I hear Dallas is hotter.” That makes a small smile appear on the reporter’s face.

“Speaking of Dallas,” she segues, which makes a knowing smile spread across Tess’s face. “Your girlfriend, Paige Bueckers, was just drafted there. The two of you met twice in national championships in college – can we expect some exciting match-ups between the two of you in the W?”

“Of course,” Tess says coyly. “We’re 1-1 on championship wins right now. I’m looking to add a couple more of those to my resume, and if that means beating my girlfriend? Even better.”

Penelope Lancaster thanks her for her time as the crowd applauds once more. Tess makes her way back to her table, smiling smugly at Paige, who rolls her eyes, but the love in her expression is hard to hide. The rest of the draft passes in a blur, as does the afterparty they’re both invited to afterwards. It’s well past midnight when they leave the club, their hair a mess from dancing and Paige’s blazer settled over Tess’s shoulders to stave off the late night chill. Paige already has an Uber called to take them back to Tess’s parents’ house and she pulls Tess into her side as they wait outside.

There’s something so magical about the night, about the energy in the atmosphere. The bass from the music reverberates and Paige sings along to whatever rap song is playing from inside, her body warm against Tess’s, and she finds that she suddenly can’t take it anymore. The overwhelming emotion in her chest, ready to burst at the seams, the sheer happiness and hope and gratitude that seeps from every pore in her body. She wraps both of her arms around Paige’s waist, resting her head over her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. Paige quiets down, a little confused, but she melts into their embrace until there’s no air left between them.

Tess doesn’t know how to put it into words – she doesn’t think she ever will. She’s so in love, even after a year together officially. There was a point in her life where she didn’t think she’d be here. She didn’t think she would be able to heal, that she would be able to play basketball again, that she would be drafted to pursue her dream professionally. She never thought romance was in the cards for her, that she would ever find someone like Paige – that she would find Paige herself; she never thought she would be in love or that someone would be in love with her, too. It’s surreal, encompassing, and call her cheesy or down bad or whatever, but she can’t wait to live life with Paige.

“You okay?” Paige asks softly, her fingers trailing up and down Tess’s back soothingly.

“I’m perfect,” Tess responds, smiling against Paige’s skin. “I just love you.”

Paige’s hand leaves her back, but it’s not long before she’s cupping Tess’s cheek and drawing her closer to her until their lips touch. It’s soft, unhurried, a promise. It’s just as electric as the first time, as warm, as perfect. Paige breaks away long enough to whisper “I love you, too,” and then she’s sweeping back in, kissing Tess with the vow of forever. When she first met Paige, almost two years ago, she’d told her that home was a feeling. Right here, wrapped up in Paige’s arms, kissing her under the streetlight as they get ready to walk into what is the beginning of their life together, Tess knows in her heart that she’s finally made it home.

‘Happily Ever Draft-er’

In April of 2025, the Dallas Wings and the Los Angeles Sparks drafted Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy first and second overall. Every basketball fan knew that Bueckers and Kennedy were sure bets for the top two picks. If there was one thing that the WNBA season could promise us, it was the match-ups between Bueckers and Kennedy – they certainly came around more often than they did when Bueckers and Kennedy were in college. They sold out arenas with many fans vying to see their clash, and they did not disappoint. Each game was intense, hard fought until the very last second.

In their rookie year, Bueckers and Kennedy helped lead their teams to the playoffs, although they both fell short – the Wings lost 2-0 to the Aces, while the Sparks lost 2-1 to the Liberty. In their second year, the Wings forged ahead to the semi-finals where they lost 3-2 to the Fever whereas the Sparks were defeated by the Sun 2-0 in the first round. Their third year was the complete opposite – the Wings lost to the Valkyries 2-1 in the first round, although the Sparks lost 3-1 to the Lynx in the semi-finals.

Their fourth year, the last of their rookie contracts, was long anticipated. In the first round of the playoffs, the Wings defeated the Storm in a clean 2-0 sweep. Similarly, the Sparks sent the Dream packing 2-0. Then, in the semi-finals, the Wings plowed through the Lynx 3-2 while the Sparks dominated the Fever 3-1. The finals match that everyone had been waiting for – the Wings versus the Sparks was underway. This would be the first year that the WNBA implemented a 7 game series.

The WNBA finals were back and forth. The Sparks took home the first win, the Wings took home the second and the third, although the Sparks bounced back with the fourth and the fifth. The Wings beat the Sparks on their sixth game in an overtime thriller, tying the series 3-3 and forcing a game seven. Bueckers and Kennedy were electric on the court, averaging 30 points in the postseason, but ultimately, the Sparks won the WNBA championship.

When approached for a comment, Kennedy stated, “Well, Paige won Rookie of the Year, so I think it’s fitting that I get a ring first.” Bueckers, who was standing next to her, rolled her eyes, but she seemed smug, as though she had another trick up her sleeve. Kennedy continued, “We’re free agents, so who knows who’s winning the chip after this.”

Bueckers did, in fact, have another trick up her sleeve as it was announced early in the offseason that she and Kennedy had gotten engaged in Italy, close to Kennedy’s hometown. Bueckers shared their engagement photos on her Instagram, captioning it, “Her favorite ring of them all 💍”. Shortly after, Bueckers and Kennedy shared their free agency picks – they’d both landed with the Golden State Valkyries alongside 2026 Rookie of the Year Azzi Fudd.

We’re eagerly awaiting the tipoff for the 2029 WNBA season. Bueckers and Kennedy have been rivals for nine years, falling in love despite it all. Finally, for the first time ever, we get to witness the union of the titans rather than their clash. We get to witness a team where Bueckers and Kennedy combine their strengths, and all we have to say is good luck to the rest of the league. The Golden State Valkyries will be a name that we will be hearing for a very long time, especially now that Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy have settled down in the Bay and have made San Francisco their home.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #uconn #uconn wbb #ncaa wbb

156 notes · View notes

puckinghischier · 9 months ago

Text

Nervous

Jack Hughes x fem!reader, smitten!Jack

summary: request for jack and reader on their wedding day

notes: this is my first time writing anything for jack and i literally had so much fun with it. i hope you guys like it 😌

[2.6k]

Jack had never been this nervous before. Not during games, not on his draft day, not on the night of his rookie debut, and not in any circumstance that he can remember. Ever. He’s not usually the type to dwell on feelings of nerves, trusting his skill and his ability to focus on the task at hand to get the job done.

Today, though, is the most nerve-wracking day of his life. It’s his wedding day, for crying out loud. The day he gets to marry the girl that has been there for every major event of his life. The girl that has never missed a Devils home game. The girl that he’s pretty sure his family loves more than him. The girl that has stuck by him through every hardship and crazy hockey season so far. His girl. The girl he gets to make his wife.

Hell, he wasn’t even this nervous when he asked you to marry him. He recalls the day as if it happened mere hours ago, not a year and a half earlier.

“Jack, where are we going? I thought you said you had an event with the team tonight? You’re going to be late,” you ask, noticing you’re driving further and further away from the city.

You had been doing laundry, trying to get ahead on some chores you had been neglecting, when Jack had come into the living room and told you to put your shoes on, he wanted to take you somewhere. You had asked him where, and if you needed to change, but he simply shook his head no and told you it was a surprise. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Jack. You just assumed he found a new ice cream place he thought you would love, or some quaint little coffee shop he knew you’d like.

You didn’t think anything of it until you found yourself watching the city disappear into the distance almost forty-five minutes later, no destination in sight.

“We’re almost there, darling. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,” is all he said, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment to flash one of his soft smiles in your direction before continuing to drive.

You sit in the comfortable silence, a slow country ballad playing softly on the radio. Jack’s hand resting on your thigh adding a much-needed warmth to your body, not having grabbed a jacket before he dragged you out of your shared apartment. You watch the road around you become surrounded by trees, admiring the greenery that seems so hard to come by in the city.

Before you realize it, too lost in your own thoughts, Jack is turning off of the paved road you were traveling onto a dirt road, clouds of dust billowing behind the car. You lean forward a bit, trying to take in the scenery to find any sort of clue as to where you were. You’re just about to ask where he’s taking you, yet again, when you see the most beautiful scene appear through the windshield.

At the end of the road stood a large red barn, aged in all the right ways. The red was slightly faded, showcasing the years of sun damage and there were pieces of the shingled roof missing, lost in the wind who knows how long ago. Off to the left of the barn was a large area surrounded by a wooden fence, a few horses grazing on the bright green grass. The sun was just beginning to set, causing one side of the barn to be coated in golden sunlight, the other side blanketed in a shadow. As Jack turned the car to enter the field where the barn sat, you noticed the obscene number of lights strung high into the trees covered by the shadow of the barn, giving the effect that little drops of sunlight were dripping from the limbs.

“Jack…what- where are we?” You ask him, disbelief lacing your tone.

“Just a little place I stumbled across with Luke one day. We were out for a drive, just wanting out of the city for a few hours. Found this place and instantly thought of you. Knew I had to bring you here,” he reveals, parking the car and turning off the engine.

Jack opens his door to get out of the car and quickly moves to open yours, taking your hand while leading the two of you over to the forest of lights. You’re so busy looking up at the sight in the trees that you miss the large, wooden arch set up in the middle of the two biggest trees in the mini forest. There were a few hay-bales on each side of the arch, large bouquets of white daisies placed all over the bales, with some even bunched around the top corners of the square arch.

Once you take in the scene in front of you, you turn your head to look at Jack, finding his eyes already on you.

“Jack, you have about three seconds to tell me what’s going on here,” you calmly tell him, even though your stomach felt like it was doing summersaults.

“I told you, I wanted to show this place to you. Thought you’d like it.” His lips curled into an amused smile once he noticed the glare on your face, knowing you were calling his bluff.

“I wanted to show you this place, because I knew you’d like it. Because I know you. How lucky I am to know you,” he begins, slowly moving you forward until you’re standing directly in front of the arch.

“How lucky I am that I’m the person you chose to trust with your heart. How lucky I am to be able to come home to you after a hard day. How lucky I am to be the recipient of your kindness and your love. How lucky I am to bask in your happiness and your spirit day after day. How lucky I am that you put up with the crazy world I live in, and do it without complaint.”

Your hands were starting to shake at this point, eyes watering.

“What I did to deserve all of this, I’ll never know. But I know I’ll never take it for granted. I’ll never take you for granted. And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend every day of the rest of our lives telling you how thankful I am to whatever celestial being lead me to you,” Jack pauses, dropping to his knee and fishing around in his pocket for the velvet box he’s had hidden in a pair of old skates in the closet for months.

“You are pure sunshine, shining light on every single person you meet. Y/N Y/L/N, please, let me live the rest of my life sunburnt. Marry Me.”

That was the easy part. Asking you to marry him was the quickest and easiest decision Jack had ever made in his life. He hadn’t thought twice when he called Luke on a random Thursday afternoon, telling him he needed to help him run some “errands”, driving to the nearest jeweler as soon as Luke sat in his passengers seat. Didn’t even hesitate when he called your best friend, asking if you had ever talked about what your favorite diamond cut was. Not a nerve in sight when he flew out to meet your parents to ask for their blessing two months before proposing, claiming he was just making a quick trip to visit some friends.

So why? Why was he so nervous today? He’s been looking at himself in the mirror for twenty minutes now, worried that his bow tie is crooked, or that his hair looks too messy. He didn’t know why he was so focused on his appearance. You’ve seen him at his worst. You’ve been there to take care of him after far too many drinks on a night out celebrating a win, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, head buried in the closest toilet. You’ve seen him after a brutal game, face red from exertion and weird imprints all over his body from his gear. You’ve seen him when he broke down after his first loss during his rookie year, putting all the blame on himself, holding him in your arms as he sobbed in your kitchen.

He knew you didn’t care if a few hairs were out of place, or if his tie was a centimeter too far to the left. But he did. He cared, because this was the most important day of his life, and you deserved for him to look his best. You deserved for him to make sure everything was perfect.

Jack is pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, Luke and Quinn making their way into the room.

“Ready, Rowdy?” Quinn asks, going to stand behind Jack in the mirror.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack responds, turning to look at his two brothers, forcing a smile that’s supposed hide all of his nervous emotions.

“Are you sure? Why do you look like you’re about to vomit, then?”

“I don’t? Do I? Oh god, what if she thinks there’s something wrong when she sees me? How do I make myself look like I’m not gonna hurl all over her dress. Luke, do I really look like I’m gonna blow chunks?” Jack frantically asks, looking between the two brothers, turning back around to look at himself in the mirror once again.

“Jack, breathe, man. You look fine. Luke was just being Luke. He doesn’t look like he’s going to vomit, right, Luke?” Quinn attempts to calm Jack, glaring at Luke.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean it. Sorry, Jack. You look fine. She’s probably gonna want to jump your bones or some shit. You look great.” Luke blurts, trying to not only escape the wrath of his eldest brother, but to keep Jack from actually vomiting.

“Okay, not what I meant but whatever works, I guess.” Quinn sighs, placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders to turn him back around.

“Listen, everything’s going to be fine. We just went to see Y/N, she’s nervous just like you are. I don’t know why, you’re both so painfully obvious with how much you love each other. There’s nothing for you to worry about. She loves you, man. More than I’ve seen someone love another person. As long as you’re standing there waiting on her at the end of the aisle, you could be covered in dog shit for all she cares. She just wants to see you. She just wants to marry you.”

Jack stares at his older brother, letting the words sink in. His thoughts drift to you, only three doors down, standing in your dress looking into the mirror just like he is, freaking out over things that don’t truly matter to him. He thinks about how you could walk down the aisle, hair un-brushed, pajamas still on, slippers on your feet and he would still be ecstatic to see you.

“You’re right, Q. Of course you’re right. I knew I chose you to be my best man for a reason,” Jack chuckles, feeling his nerves settle a bit.

“I know I’m right. I know you. And I know Y/N. As long as the two of you leave here today with the same last name, everything else could go wrong and you would still be the happiest couple I know,” Quinn removes his hands from Jack’s shoulders.

“But, nothing is going to go wrong, because Mom has been out there running around like a madwoman to make sure everything is in place. The only thing left is to make sure you get to the altar. Which is what we were sent here to do,” Luke chimes in, trying to assure his brother one last time.

“Alright. Yeah. I guess it’s time, huh?”

“It’s time, Rowdy. And it’s been a long time coming.” Quinn pats Jack on the back, the three brothers making their way towards the door that was left open.

Jack smiles at his brother’s statement, knowing you’re just as much a part of his brother’s lives as you are his. You watch every single one of Quinn’s hockey games (as long as he’s not playing at the same time as Jack and Luke) and scream loud enough for the neighbors to complain. You were there at Jack’s side for Luke’s draft day, just as proud, if not more, of the youngest Hughes. You always invite Luke over for a post-game dinner, knowing how tired he is after games and wanting to make sure he gets a meal before he goes home and claims he’s too tired to eat. He knows you hold a special place in his mom’s heart, too. Her claim that you’re the daughter she never had proving to be true through this whole process, knowing she’s been involved in every step of this wedding right along side your mom and yourself.

Before Jack knows it, the ceremony is beginning and he’s being given the signal to make his way to the altar, standing next to his groomsmen as he waits for you to walk through those doors.

As he looks out over the crowd, he finds himself growing nervous once again. Did he put on enough cologne? Did he bring the right kind? What if he wasn’t wearing the one you told him was your favorite? Did he brush his teeth? What if he kisses you for the first time as your husband and his breath tastes like the burger he had for lunch? Oh god, what if you don’t want to kiss him because he has burger breath?

Quinn can sense the nervous energy radiating off of his brother once again. He places his hand on Jack’s back, giving him a few pats to let him know he’s right there next to him. That everything’s going to be okay.

Jack looks over at his brother only briefly before he hears the unmistakable tune of “In Case You Didn’t Know” by Brett Young start playing through the speakers. It’s Jack’s song for you. He plays it all the time when you’re in the car together, not even trying to be subtle. He loves to send it to you when he’s on the road, letting you know he’s thinking about you. There was absolutely no question in your mind as to what song you were going to choose when your mom asked what you wanted to walk down the aisle to.

He snaps his attention to the double doors that open at the other end of the large room. His stomach is in knots, really hoping he doesn’t actually look like he’s about to puke, because he sure feels like it right now.

As he watches the first flash of white make an appearance in the doorway, he knows he’s a goner.

You step into his full view, hand wrapped around your father’s arm, looking around at the various guests for only a split second before your eyes meet his. Jack swears, all time stops in that second. He can barely see through the tears that well in his eyes, completely in awe of you. You match his gaze, forcing yourself to keep the tears from dropping, not wanting to have mascara streaks running down your face before you even get to the altar.

The two of you simply stare at one another for what seems like an eternity. An unspoken declaration of love passed between one another in a simple glance. Your father having to tug on your arm slightly, forcing you to step forward, too lost in Jack for you to remember where you were and what was currently taking place.

As you start to walk down the aisle, every step bringing you towards Jack, towards the rest of your life with him, the feeling of calmness washes over his body. You’re here. You’re his. And you’re everything he has ever wanted and more. It’s in this moment, watching the rest of his life walk towards him, smile on her face, a single tear slipping down her cheek, Jack Hughes has never been less nervous in his life.

611 notes · View notes

sourrpatched · 3 months ago

Text

𓉸ྀི l.mk LIKE A VIRGIN

Pairing > Yandere!Lee Mark x Fem!Reader

Genre > Horror (slasher type), Murder Mystery, College frat AU, smut (MDNI), loosely based in late 90s (there may be minor inconsistencies)

Sypnosis > As the fifth year anniversary of what the public coined the 'Vestal Murders' approaches, strange occurrences begin to happen. Leaving the public frightened there may be a copycat killer on the loose, and you worried that he might be there to finish the job.

Warnings > Cursing, drinking, smoking, death, Major character death (but also not really?), SMUT (MDNI), Dry humping, oral sex (f recieving), protected sex (wrap it up yall come on), stalking, Mark is actually crazy just an FYI

Word Count > 13.6k

A/N > This is the first to a series i’m working on for halloween so i hope if u enjoy this you enjoy the others! This is also my first time writing such a long fic and smut so bear with me please.

playlist > Like a Virgin- Madonna, Oblivion- Grimes, Somebody’s watching me- Rockwell

Lucville, October 12th

October was a fun month for most people. There was the official start of fall and of course halloween season. There was no one happier than your friends, you on the other hand were not a fan.

Something about Halloween just gave you the creeps. Which, yes may be its exact purpose, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. Besides, you preferred Spring anyway.

You sat on your desk chair next to your bed, head hanging back as your body laid limp on the seat. Your friend, Yuqi, was sorting through your closet. Well what was left of the clothes in your closet. She had thrown half of your wardrobe onto the floor, searching for the perfect outfit for tonight.

“Do I have to go?” You groaned, “Like really?”

It wasn’t like you to want to go out and party and your friends knew that, which is why tonight was a special occasion.

“Your parents aren’t going to let you stay home alone, considering recent events.”

“I’d say five years ago is hardly recent.”

There was a series of disappearances that led up to Halloween when you were in your early years of high school. It was three different people who happened to live within your town, some even attended the same school as you. It was a small town, yet you wouldn’t have considered yourself close to any of the students, except for one.

Jihoon was one of your older brother, Inhyuk’s longest and closest friends. You remember how they’d always hang out at your house after school playing video games. Jihoon was always so sweet to you, inviting you into their hangouts so you wouldn’t be alone. Even with the four year age gap you couldn’t help but develop a puppy crush on him.

A week had passed since his disappearance, everyone expected that the kids were playing a senior prank and would return shortly, your brother knew differently. He grew more distressed as the days passed. You remember how annoying it was that he wouldn’t allow you to go anywhere without him right by your side.

That protectiveness only got worse when the bodies had been discovered. The TV was playing a re run of IT in honor of Halloween when an emergency news broadcast appeared.

“It appears the bodies of multiple missing persons have been discovered after police received an anonymous report leading to an investigation of Velvet Lake.”

Chills ran down your spine as the names of the kids appeared on screen, Jihoon being one of the three. Your brother had taken it badly, he couldn’t leave his room for months. That’s why as soon as he graduated he took a scholarship across the globe and never came back.

It only made the house emptier. Your father was always traveling abroad on business so he was hardly ever around, and your mother who was a surgeon at S.E.S, the towns local hospital, was working overtime. That left you alone most of the time when you weren’t with your friends.

“I’m not talking about that Virgin killer, i’m talking about those people who were mauled by a bear or something in Melody.”

Melody was the neighboring town to yours closer to the city, and as far as you knew, there wasn’t much wildlife there.

“A bear? How would a bear even be there?”

“How would I know. My dad just said what he saw on today’s paper.” She shrugged pulling a shirt from your closet and bringing it up to your chest.

“It’s not Virgin Killer by the way, it’s Vestal.”

“Same difference. I think this is it by the way.” She motioned her head to the mirror behind you. It was a green and brown tube top with a turtleneck she had chosen for you to wear. It was cropped, exposing your waist down. You’d argue it wasn’t exactly appropriate for the weather but Yuqi never took that into account.

“Perfect.” She smiled and headed back to your closet. “Now we gotta find matching pants.”

“Isn’t it kind of stupid that they’re hosting a party already. Halloween isn’t even til three weeks from now.”

“Y/N you should know already they will throw a party for any reason.” Her voice comes out muffled. You roll your eyes knowing she’s searching the deep depths of your closet.

“What’s the point in that, aren’t parties supposed to be special?”

“Y/N, college parties are an excuse for us to get drunk and have fun. What’s more special than that?”

You trace out the words ‘HELP ME’ on the desk with your finger, whining. “Nothing for me, so do I have to go?”

You’re suddenly hit on the side of your head. You look down at a the floor where a juniper maxi skirt lays on the floor.

“You play this same game every time and end up dragged to the party anyway,” Yuqi bursts, “We’re going. So put those on and stop your bitching.”

You sigh in defeat, grabbing the skirt and beginning to change into the clothes before the sound of the doorbell goes off.

Yuqi lets a breath out. “That’s probably Minnie I’ll go get her. Stay here and don’t try and get away.” She pleads with emphases on ‘ don’t ‘ before leaving your room.

You change into your clothes, staring at yourself in the mirror. The amount of skin showing makes you a bit uncomfortable so you reach for a black leather jacket on the floor from Yuqi’s assault on your closet. You put it on feeling much more content hearing the approaching voices of your friends.

“You should really learn to stop popping up out of nowhere and call before you’re coming over.”

“I paged you guys.” Minnie spoke evidently.

You snicker, “You still carrying yours around?“

She rolls her eyes, “Okay you’re just lucky your mom and dad can afford to get you a cell.”

You shrug.

“It’s getting late, we should get going.” Yuqi says putting her own jacket on. You grab onto her before she can slip out the door.

“And this mess?”

The entire room looked as if it was part of the titanic wreckage. You could hardly see the floor with the piles of clothing covering it. She looks around then at you with an innocent smile. “I’ll help later.”

You take a breath knowing that was a lie, but following your friends out of the house nonetheless.

This better be worth it.

The frat house is about as messy as you would’ve expected. Red solo cups are left on every surface of the house, and you were sure not a single one of them was filled with water. There was a crowd in the living room surrounding a game of foosball between two guys you were sure were on the football team.

At some point your group separated to go meet up with other people. This was exactly why you hated coming to parties. Within a minute of walking through the front door, Yuqi would met up with her drama club friends and Minnie left with some group of stoners. You walked around hoping to find something to drink to pass time.

You walked into the kitchen finding a small trio of familiar faces hovering around the fridge. Two of the three idiots were taunting the youngest while he stood confused. You slowly sneak up and approach them startling them at the sound of your voice.

“You guys some sort of watch dogs for the drinks or?”

“Jesus fuck when did you get here?”

You shrug, gesturing your hands for them to move from the fridge. “Like twenty minutes ago.” You grab a coke out of the fridge and crack it open taking a sip.

“You came alone little fox, or in your usual set?”

You cringed at the nickname used. Johnny, the eldest of the frat, loved to call you that because of how sneaky you were. It wasn’t ever purposely, you just happened to ‘pop up out of nowhere’ sometimes according to others.

“Yuqi and Minnie went to go find their own cliques.”

“And left you to fend for yourself? That’s not good manners.” Yuta was the second eldest although he acted far from it. He and Johnny had been underclass men to your brother when they were in high school so you guys were pretty close.

“Stealing one of Kun’s cokes isn’t well mannered either.” Johnny teased.

“He’ll live.” You say taking another sip.

“You really shouldn’t be wandering around all by yourself y/n, it’s not very safe.” Mark, the youngest chimes in. Mark was in a grade higher than you, you had never been very close with him until a year ago though, seeing as he began to spend time more with your friend group.

He was a quiet type, kept to himself a lot of the time, and was usually the victim of a joke. He was very sweet though. Minnie pointed out that the last frat party you couldn’t attend, he wouldn’t stop asking her about you.

When she told him you were sick he seemed concerned and gave her shit for just leaving you behind. You felt a blush creeping in at the thought of him carrying so much about you.

“Awww why do you care so much about y/n?” Yuta says squeezing the younger’s cheeks. He slaps his hand off of him and Yuta only bursts out laughing.

“He’s right little fox,” Johnny says directed to you. He was always trying to sound wise. “I mean didn’t you notice the way Sungchan has been eyeing you all night?”

You didn’t. Sungchan had hit on you at the last frat party your friends attended in which you respectfully declined. The way the guys were talking though was as if he was some stalker, your skin crawled at the thought.

“You’re just saying that.”

“It’s true. His attention is always on you, even when you’re not paying attention.”

“Let’s face it, she’s never paying attention.” Yuta adds.

“And that’s exactly why you gotta be careful. College men can’t be trusted.”

You scoff, “You do realize you are included in that generalization. College man.”

Yuta pokes Johnny, putting him on the spot. “She got you there.” The eldest only rolls his eyes. Yuta might seem drunk to most people, and maybe he was, but you and your friends knew he was just the playful type.

“I think Johnny is right, especially around this season. You never know what could happen.” Mark’s sentence trails off.

“Oh chills,” Yuta says raising his arm, “You gave me chills Mark. You’re talking about that Virgin taker right?”

Johnny’s eyebrows furrow, “I don’t think that’s the name.”

“Whatever you know what I mean. He slaughtered all those puritans didn’t he?”

“A little insensitive don’t you think?”

“What? You mad he couldn’t take yours too?” He replies with a wink and sip of his beer. You take it back, he was definitely drunk.

This time you let out a giggle, it was always fun being around these idiots. “Vestal. Can’t believe i’ve had to correct two people on that today.” You shake your head.

“Who was the first?” Mark asks curiously.

“Yuqi, speaking of, I should probably start looking for her. I’m ready to bounce.”

“I thought I saw she left out earlier with some girl with short hair?”

“Great. So she left me and Minnie to get laid.” You say sarcastically.

Johnny clicks his tongue. “You must’ve broken a mirror, little fox. Minnie left out with the boys to go get some food. Munchies, you know.”

You groan, sinking your head into your hand. “They drag me here for no reason. Okay i’m leaving now, i’ll see you guys when I do.”

“You walking alone?” Mark‘s voice comes out full of concern.

You shrug. “Seems like it.”

“I can walk you home if you don’t mind?” He suggests.

“Thank you, but really It’s okay.” You’re already heading towards the door, throwing your empty can in the trash when you hear Yuta’s voice.

“Careful Y/N, don’t let the virgin killer get ya.”

You keep your sight forward, flicking him off as you leave.

You walk through your front door, sliding the locks on instantly. Your shoulders drop, the stress leaving your body. Walking home alone was what you did regularly, only this time it felt different. It felt like someone was accompanying you, even if it was only you walking your regular route home.

The fifteen minutes felt longer than usual but that could’ve rang true since you stopped a few times to look around swearing you could feel eyes on you. That’s why as soon as you got home you turned on all of the lights in your home.

Stupid Yuta. He was always saying something to put you on edge.

You turn on the TV and are shocked to find that the news is still on.

“Due to a power outage the following locations have been left with no power over sixty percent of people are left with no clue on when it will be repaired. Schools and Universities have decided to postpone classes for the time being. People are outraged, some believing this upcoming blood moon could be the reasoning for the power outages.”

The list of cities and towns comes up. Melody, Lucville, Graze town , and 0 mile.

Lucville. That couldn’t be right, you had power right now. The phone rings loudly from the kitchen, pulling you from your thoughts. You get up to check, walking to the counter and pulling the phone to your ear.

“Hell–”

“Did you hear??? The campus closed down cause of some weird power thing, it’s not coming back til November.” Yuqi’s voice cuts yours off.

“I did yeah but that doesn’t make any sense,” You object, “my power’s working.”

“Yeah it’s only effecting places like the police stations and schools, some hospitals too. Don’t read too much into it just be happy we have no classes.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“I gotta go now, my bed calls me. I only called to make sure you got home. Minnie told me you left alone.”

“The bed or the person in it,” You hear her squeak like she’d been caught. “Don’t forget you owe me a clean room.”

“I’ll get to it tomorrow, promise.”

“Whatever.” You hang up.

At that moment you hear a knock at the front door. You check the time. 1:40am. Weird, your mom was held up at work and your father was still out of town. You walk over to the front door checking the peep hole and seeing nothing.

That’s strange.

You unlock the door and open it, looking around the area. It was just an empty street, not a single light was on from any house. You close the door guessing it could’ve been from the TV, when the phone rings again.

You walk over to the kitchen grabbing the phone. “Hello?”

You’re met with silence.

You scoff, “Yuta? If this is your idea of a prank you should really move on. Everyone’s seen Scream by now.” You hang up.

Even though you were very sure it was just Yuta who was prank calling, you can’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine. You reach up over the counter opening the cabinet to grab a glass when the phone rings again.

You jump, the glass dropping from your finger tips and crashing into the ground. You groan, carefully crossing the glass without stepping in it and reaching for the phone.

“Yuta I swear to god the next time I see you, you better have a jockstrap on!” You shout before being cut off.

“Woah y/n are you okay?”

You sigh in relief. “Mark?”

“Yeah, I was calling to make sure you got home safe. Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, just got a bit spooked with a call earlier.”

“I’m guessing Yuta?”

“Ding Ding Ding. Guess i’m victim to his little halloween pranks.”

“I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Don’t bother, I can handle him.”

“I’m sure you can,” He chuckles, “Jockstrap?”

“It’s a clear warning in case he does want kids in the future.”

You can hear his smile through the phone, it helps ease your mind. “Assuming he doesn’t already have some running around?”

You let out a chuckle. “You’re right. He’ll be fine without any more.”

The laugh he lets out is contagious. “I gotta clean up a bit here, i’m glad you called though.” You meant it.

“Of course, wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Who else would keep the guys in check?”

You can’t help the blush that fills your cheeks. “Bye, Mark.”

“I’ll see you later y/n.” The call ends.

You quickly clean up the mess before heading back into your brother’s old room to sleep. It was completely empty save for the TV left on a counter and a loan poster of Madonna on the wall.

You turn off the lights hoping to god you will make tomorrow’s morning shift at the diner.

It was about thirty minutes left of your shift before you were finally free. You rubbed your face to keep yourself awake. It was Monday morning shift and usually they weren’t that busy, but since classes were all canceled for the next week, you noticed a lot more students came to the diner.

You worked at Salty & Sweet Diner for over a year already. It gave you something to do when you weren’t at school so you wouldn’t have to spend all your time at home by yourself. It also gave you money you could use to go out with friends instead of depending on your parents.

“Looking terrible y/n.” The man who is next in line looks up at you with a mocking smile.

“As do you, What can I get for you today YangYang? Same as usual?”

He nodded, “Extra whipped cream don’t forget it.”

You write down his order on a notepad. “And you?”

“Are you on the menu?” Jaehyun jokes.

“Limited time only and you just missed it.”

Jaehyun and YangYang were usually in the frat basement getting high when they weren’t attending classes, so their presence today was surprising.

“The guys should be getting here soon.” Jaehyun comments, “Something about it being your shift so we should come over to annoy you?”

“I thought I mentioned if i see any of you in here i’ll have my manager ban you guys.”

“Nice try, Your manager was busy last night getting high with us.” YangYang points his finger at Minnie, who’s counting the register behind you.

The diner was owned by Minnie’s parents which is how you landed the job in the first place. You were great full most times, but not now. At that moment the door rings signaling another customer coming. You can spot the idiot from miles away.

“Y/N, how are you did you miss me?” He says enthusiastically. You roll your eyes.

“I wouldn’t even miss you if you died.”

“Ouch.” He grabs at his chest dramatically. Before you can berate him you’re cut off by the familiar, comforting voice.

“Hey y/n, how’s your shift going?” Mark says, his attention fixed onto you.

“It’s fine. What are you doing here?” You respond shyly.

“The guys wanted to annoy you but I only came to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m okay.” You could feel the awkwardness radiating off of your body.

“That’s good,” He clears his throat. “So, the guys were actually going to host another party this weekend. I was wondering if It’ll be okay if i keep my hopes up to see you.”

You wait a second before responding. “I can’t confirm whether you will be disappointed or not.” He nods at your answer when a voice cuts into your conversation.

“You won’t be. She will be there.” Minnie’s voice rings out.

You look at her, eyes wide. She only gives a tight smile. It’s her signature ‘Don’t even try it’ look.

Yuta speaks this time, “Great, so i’m guessing you will all three be there?”

“You guessed correctly.” She grins, “I’ll let Yuqi know about it. Y/N you can go now.”

“My shift isn’t over?”

“Yeah well I’m sure Hyungseo has no problem covering your shift for you.”

“Who‘s Hyungseo?” Yuta asks teasingly.

“The chef who can’t keep his eyes off of our little Y/N here,” Minnie winks at you. “Go on now Y/n, you can go.”

You give her a look before heading to the back to change out of your apron. Before you’re completely out of sight you can hear the group tease the youngest.

“You’re as red as Minnie’s old wash cloth right now.”

“Hey man knock it off.” Minnie replies.

Mark can only turn away, “I’m heading to the restroom.”

On your way out, a voice stops you in your tracks. Sungchan sits in his seat, a milkshake in front of him.

“Sungchan, i’m off the clock if you needed something I could let Minnie know.”

“Huh?” He turns his head to his drink realizing what it looks like to you, “No actually I just wanted to ask you.” He trails off his sentence. You stand there confused waiting for him to continue. “You’re going to be at Yuta’s party right?”

“I don’t really have a choice.”

His laughter is strained, “Well I was wondering if I see you there, would you want to–“

His voice is cut off by the yelling coming from where your group of friends stand. You see that two of the boys have decided to try and race to see who can finish their milkshake first, glad you clocked out before having to deal with that.

“Yeah i’ll see you there,” You say to Sungchan, leaving him to his drink. “I gotta go, enjoy your food.”

He nods giving you a small smile, “Bye Y/N.”

Once you’re home you can’t wait but head straight to the shower. You set the water to warm before stripping and standing directly under the stream of water. The warmth hits you and you let out a sigh, letting the water run down your body and soak into your hair.

Minutes pass of silence, the only sound being the running water. Your eyes are closed as you begin rinsing the remaining shampoo in your hair. You hear the faintest tap of the door, opening your eyes in an instant.

You turn the facet off stepping out of the shower and grabbing your towel, only now realizing your clothes weren’t there.

I swear I brought clothes?

Your heart drops as you begin to hear muffled voices coming from your house. You stand frozen in front of the bathroom door. You can hear your heart thumping as if it’s directly in your ears.

After moments of contemplating you choose to open the door. You follow the voices that are coming from the living room. The TV is on.

“Parents stand here today at the memorial sight with flowers and candles to honor the upcoming five year anniversary of the Vestal Murderer’s victims. The victims–“

You turn off the TV, deciding to ignore it and head back into your room to change into a pajama set.

October 19th

This party is boring. You had chosen to stick by Minnie’s side after experiencing the weirdest phenomenons for the past week. You had about three other times items had been misplaced in your home. You were slowly growing more agitated than anything, so when Minnie suggested you join them in their smoke session you didn’t decline.

You sat in between Minnie and YangYang, opting out of smoking after a single rotation. You weren’t a smoker so three puffs and one coughing fit later you were done for the night.

Your friends sat in a circle, recounting stories to one another. You couldn’t really focus on anything but keeping your eyes open though.

There’s a knock at the door, pulling your attention from the cup in your hands and towards the sound. Jaehyun gets up to get the door, speaking to the man on the other side with a hushed voice. It’s only when you lean to the side that you notice it’s Mark.

You turn over to Minnie by your side, tapping her shoulder to get her attention.

“I want to go get another drink.” Minnie nods her head, letting YangYang know she’s gonna be right back. You both sit up heading towards the door where Jaehyun looks annoyed.

“Is something wrong?” Minnie asks, inserting herself into their conversation.

“Just Johnny stealing our room for the night. He needs some ‘privacy’ for that girl he brought over.” He says rolling his eyes.

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, it was funny that he was so bothered by something you knew for a fact he was very guilty of.

“You mad you couldn’t book it first?” Minnie jokes.

“Y/N, I thought you left?” Mark questions.

“No, well I was but then Minnie invited me up so,” You let out a breath motioning your hands to the room. “I’m here.”

You can hear laughter from Jaehyun and Minnie who find your current condition hilarious. It only makes you join their cackling. Mark stays watching the three of you very confused.

“Right,” He says slowly. “You guys are leaving now?”

“Just getting a refill.” Minnie brings her cup up showing the emptiness of it.

“You guys getting more drinks? Get me a–“

“Get it yourself.” You knock down Jaehyun before he can finish his sentence. He frowns. “Come on Minnie.” She follows you out the door, leaving the two boys to their own conversation.

You and Minnie stand in the kitchen, well Minnie stands. You’re sat on the counter as she searches the cabinets for more booze. You look over to the living room where you see a mix of unfamiliar and familiar faces engage in a game of Cup Pong.

“Here,” Minnie grabs your attention, handing your cup back to you. You grab it and take a sip, frowning at the taste. “It’s water. God knows you need it.”

You take another sip, setting it down on the counter afterwards. “Thanks.”

“You heard earlier right?” She says, taking a drink out of her own. You cock your head to the side, not picking up what she’s saying. “Siwon was asking what I was doing later tonight and if i wanted to ‘hang’.” She adds quotation marks with her fingers.

If you had the water in your hands you were very sure it would’ve spilled everywhere. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.” Her face full of disgust.

“I too, wish you were.” Yuqi adds from behind you. You jump at her sudden appearance. “When did you get here?”

“Just now. Which reminds me,” She brings herself up onto the counter leaning in to the two of you. “You know that high school kid I told you guys about who joined our club, Minjae?” You both nodded. “He tried putting moves on me.”

Minnie chokes on her drink. Yuqi immediately hitting her back to help her catch her breath. “What the hell is wrong with you.”

“Right now?” You question in disbelief.

“While you two were busy getting stoned.”

Minnie lets out one last cough, “What did you say?”

“Of course not. That’s a kid, I want nothing to do with that.” Yuqi says almost offended that Minnie even had to ask.

“You were a high schooler when you hit on Soyeon.”

“Well yeah, but that’s different. Me and Soyeon were only a year apart. He’s like two years younger.”

Minnie shrugs, “You’re just scared he’s going to get attached if you take his V-Card like you did with Soyeon.”

“Hey,” She hits Minnie’s shoulder, “Next time i’ll let you choke.”

“You remember how you were, puppy eyes always following her around.” Minnie says bringing fists to her cheeks. “You were so cute before you chose to become a heartbreaker.”

Yuqi hits Minnie’s hands off of her. “Do you have a death wish?”

“Ah you’re so mean now.” Minnie whines, “Y/N, when you finally get to bed don’t become like Yuqi.”

“As if that would happen any time soon, guys aren’t exactly all over me. Besides, I want it to be special.” You say bringing your arms to your chest.

Yuqi makes a face at Minnie. The girls sharing a glance you aren’t able to understand.

“What?” You press.

“Don’t worry about guys not being interested in you, worry about the guard dog of yours keeping them from approaching.” Minnie speaks as if it’s an obvious answer.

“What do you mean?”

Before you can press any further a figure approaches your circle. “You guys okay?”

“Never better.” Yuqi smiles, hopping off of the counter.

You face where mark stands. You weren’t able to really take in his appearance earlier but now that he was leaning on the counter, you were able to dissect him as if he were a test subject on a science lab table.

You thought the water was helping sober you up but apparently not enough with the way your brain was making up horrible comparisons.

You couldn’t help the blush on your face as you noticed the outline of muscles on the man’s forearms. He wasn’t even flexing and they were still apparent.

His plain white tee didn’t stop your brain from what your friends would call ‘eye fucking’ the man in front of you. It fit him like a glove, capturing his broad shoulders and his chest the way you wish you could.

“You okay y/n?” He spoke, pulling you out of your trance.

“Uhh, yeah.” You turn to where your friends are smirking at you, reading you easily. “What were we talking about?”

“How it’s pretty late and you should get home soon.”

“And how Mark should probably take you back home.” Minnie adds smoothly.

“Would you be okay with that?” Mark looks over to you.

There’s a brief silence as everyone waits for your answer. You give a tight smile, “Sure.”

“Great, well we have to go.” Yuqi says pulling Minnie with her out of the kitchen, “See you tomorrow Y/N!”

You were lucky the man in front of you was so oblivious to your friend’s actions. You put your arms down to help get you off of the counter the way Yuqi did earlier. A pair of hands find their way around your waist before you can.

“Here let me help you.” Mark pulls you off the counter with no struggle. You can’t help the warmth creeping in your stomach from his grip around you.

“Thanks.” You say, his hands leaving your waist as you stand steady on your own feet. You hope he doesn’t notice the way you can’t look him in the eye. “Let’s go.”

The cool autumn air was enough to sober you up if only by a little. Mark walked silently beside you noticing the way you wrapped your arms around yourself trying to keep warm. You’re too busy thinking about how much longer this walk will be when you feel hands wrapping around your shoulder.

“You were shivering.” He says leaving his jacket on you.

“Thanks.” You mumble, feeling instant relief from the cool air.

You can smell a hint of vanilla on it, his signature cologne. You smile silently to yourself bringing your hands to your mouth to warm them, and to keep him from noticing the faint pink in your cheeks.

“I’m glad I can walk you home, I was a bit worried last time you answered the call sounding panicked.”

You recall the memory. He did sound a bit startled through the phone. “I’m okay, i’m glad you get to walk me home anyway.”

There’s another round of silence. You notice your street in the distance, trying to come up with what to say. He speaks before you’re able to utter a word.

“You look really pretty tonight by the way.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. He realizes how his sentence came off, backtracking his earlier statement. “You always look pretty I mean. I just– You really suit my jacket.”

“I don’t know if I should thank you for the jacket or the compliment.”

“You don’t have to thank me at all, i’m only stating the obvious.”

You look up smiling at him which feels so easy to do whenever he’s around. You notice the beauty marks all over his face and neck, wishing you could analyze them closer.

“That’s my place over there.” You break the silence pointing over to your house. He looks to you, “I’m glad you have arrived safely.”

“I’m glad you could bring me.”

You both are standing face to face for a moment, observing each other and waiting for someone to make the first move. He speaks first.

“I don’t want to hold you in the cold for any longer.”

You reach to take off his jacket, “Oh, here’s your–“

“No need,” he cuts you off. “You pull it off better than I ever have.”

“I beg to differ.” You’re hoping he can take a hint. “But I guess once I wear another clothing item of yours we can see who pulls off your clothes better.”

“Feel free to invite yourself over anytime for access to my wardrobe.”

“Or I can pull this one off you now?” You joke, pulling him closer by his shirt. You’re unsure where your sudden boldness is coming from, perhaps you weren’t completely sober after all.

He leans in closer, staring into your eyes and shifting his gaze to your lips. He was definitely not as dense as you thought. You lean in closer, his fingers grazing your lips.

A sudden noise pulls you guys apart from each other. You look to the ground, embarrassed by how brazen you came off. He reaches into his pocket, grabbing his pager and reading off a message.

“Do you need to go already?”

He lets out heavy sigh as if he was disappointed in the distraction, “Yeah, that was Yuta he wants for me to stay over the night.”

You’re shocked, always having assumed he had stayed with the rest of the frat members. “Oh, I thought you lived there?”

“No, My parents actually got me a place here for my studies so it’s just me.”

“I see, it’s the same for me.” You point again at your home. “Thank you for walking me, please make sure you get back safely.”

“My pleasure, have a nice night Y/N.” He waves his hand as you begin walking towards your home.

“Ditto.” You shout out loud enough for him to hear you as you walk up to your home pulling your key out.

“What did you do!” You let out a gut wrenching scream. The entire floor was painted red, you look down and notice your hands full of blood.

You jump out of your nightmare, sweat lining your body. The house is silent, your alarm clock emitting a red gleam. It reads 4:26am.

You sit in bed rubbing the last of the tiredness in your eyes deciding it’d better to keep yourself awake for a while longer. You get up heading towards your kitchen to grab a glass of water.

As you reach the kitchen you decide to turn the TV on to calm your nerves for the time being. The news is on again. You take a sip out of your water paying half a mind to what is being reported.

“It’s been 48 hours since the disappearance of Jung Sungchan, his parents report he was last seen on October 17.”

Sungchan? He had said he would go to the party when you last saw him just a few days ago. You think back realizing you hadn’t seen him at all tonight. You feel your heart sink, placing your glass down and running to your house phone.

“Hello?” Minnie’s voice comes out hoarse. You can tell you’d just woken her from her sleep but you’re too startled to apologize.

“Sungchan is missing.”

“Huh?”

“He’s gone I just saw on the news they said it’s been days. I’m freaking out I just talked to him on Monday this has to be a joke right?”

“Y/N–“ You can barely hear her over your panicked thoughts.

“This is happening all over again, they’re saying it’s him again.”

You feel your eyes begin to water, “There’s been weird things happening, I hear knocks and my TV turns on all the time for no reason.” “Y/N.”

“Minnie, He was so close before,” You take a breath, “What if I’m next?”

“Y/N!” She yells out causing you to jump. “Relax, you’re okay. Nothing is going to happen.”

You don’t say anything so she continues, “I’m pretty sure I saw Sungchan after you left with Mark okay? Also, those knocks are probably just neighborhood kids. Remember when you said they’d always egg your neighbors around halloween?”

You let out a breath, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“See so there’s nothing to worry about, it’s all in your head cause Yuta kept saying shit. You’re okay and nothing going to happen.”

You realize how stupid you might’ve sounded now. Minnie was right, nothing was wrong until Yuta put all of that into your head. You’re just overthinking it.

“Thank you.” You let out softly.

She gives a sound of acknowledgment, “You know if you ever feel scared, my house is always open to you.”

“It’s fine I think I was just paranoid but i’m okay now.”

“Well just letting you know. Do you want to stay on the phone?”

“No it’s okay, i’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“Make sure you’re getting some sleep too alright?” She yawns. “God knows we need it for tomorrow.”

“Oh crap.” You had forgotten about the annual fundraiser held at the frat house. It was meant to raise money for the victims families of the Vestal Murders. You and your friends had promised to be there. “It totally slipped my mind.”

“If you can’t go don’t sweat it, you have a lot on your plate anyway.”

“No, i’ll be there.”

“Okay well I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.”

“Night.”

October 20th

After a day of setting up different games for the fundraiser you were able to sit and relax. Yuqi, who’s sitting beside you passes a bottle of coke to you.

“Thanks.” You reply, taking a sip of the drink and setting it down.

“Can’t believe we had to help set up, i just want to go home.”

You give a wry smile, “Yeah i’m pretty exhausted, had a tough time sleeping.” She’s about to respond when someone calls her from the distance. “I’m going!” She turns to face you, “Go, we’re done here anyway.”

She walks away meeting with YangYang at the steps of the house. You close your eyes lying back against the couch you’re on. You can hear voices around you but don’t try enough to make out what they’re all talking about. Footsteps approach you, you open your eyes to see who it is.

“The games haven’t even began and you’re tired already?”

Mark is standing above you, you take in the fitted black shirt he has on. You admire the turtleneck he has on, it really fits him even though it covered his neck moles you loved to stare at.

“I’m only resting, it’s been a long day.”

He hums, taking a seat beside you. “Then i’ll join you, you can use me as a pillow if you’d like.”

You take his offer, lying your head on his shoulder which is much more comfortable than the couch if you were being honest. You close your eyes and feel his hand start to play with your hair, purring at the feeling.

“Yo, you guys gonna just sit there or you wanna join?” Johnny shouts to you and Mark.

You look up at him, still resting your head on him. His face is so close you pull away and get up. “We’re going.” He follows behind you.

You can see a few of your friends lined up to play apple bobbing. You remember how you played once when you were younger, you freaked out and inhaled the water. Inhyuk had to pull you out to stop you from choking.

“You wanna play?” Yuta says, smirking at the two of you.

“Uh I’m good.” You say, looking up at Mark.

“Come on, show them how you use that mouth of yours.” Minnie winks at you from in line.

You shove into her with your forearm, she laughs it off. “Really I’m okay, Mark?”

“Actually mind if I show you something instead?”

“Ohhh, he’s going to show you what his mouth can do.” Yuta mocks, this time he earns a shove from Mark.

You give her a scornful look, “Sure let’s go.”

He holds your hand pulling you from behind him, leading the way. You guys walk past the crowds of people, making your way through the house. You realize he’s taking you to the basement so you speak up.

“Didn’t know you were a smoker, Lee.”

He chuckles, “Not quite.” You both are still hand in hand when he takes you to a corner room in the basement that you hadn’t noticed before.

“What’s this?”

“You’ll see,” He opens the door revealing a room filled with Halloween candy and a blanket on the floor. You look around noticing the TV in the room with VHS tapes of different movies laid out on the floor. “Do you like it?”

You look up at Mark seeing how he’s awaiting your answer. You pull him in for a hug, squealing in delight.

“This is so sweet.”

“Minnie told me you had been having a rough time, thought this might cheer you up.” He smiles, “Did it work?”

“It did more than work. Mark, thank you.” You look up at him, holding his gaze for a moment. You’re both only an inch from each other, you look at his lips wondering how soft they’d feel on yours.

His voice comes out rough, “We should watch a movie, yeah?” though he makes no effort to step away from you.

You take a look at him, his eyes won’t leave your mouth so you move in closer. “We can always watch later.”

He lets out a chuckle before pulling you in for a kiss. His lips feel so soft on yours, it’s everything and more than you had imagined. It’s rough and possessive, stealing your breath right from your mouth.

He bites onto your lip earning a moan from your lips, you pull away embarrassed by the noise you’d let out. “I’m sorry I don’t know why I did that.”

He lets out a breathless laugh, “Don’t apologize, I love those sounds from you.” He pulls you in again, the kiss becoming even heavier than before.

You can feel his tongue trace the bottom of your lips asking permission to deepen the kiss. You accept, beginning to explore his own mouth. You bite his lip, earning a groan from him, you thought that might be the sexiest noise you’d ever heard before.

He grabs onto your cheek with one hand and your waist with the other. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so perfect you know that?” You can barely respond before he begins to pull you in once more.

“Mark,” You plead breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I need to tell you something.”

He hums, beginning to kiss down your neck. You squirm at the feeling. “I haven’t– Fuck. I’ve never done this before.”

He slowly pulls away from you, confusion evident on his face. “Oh.” He can tell how embarrassed you feel admitting it so he adds promptly. “We don’t have to do anything. I’m not going to force you to do anything I just thought a movie would be nice.”

You find his distressed state amusing, “I– yeah that’s fine.”

He smiles, about to put a movie in when you hear a knock from the door.

“Y/N, we gotta go. Yuqi’s parents want her home already.” Minnie appears at the door.

You nod remembering the plans you guys had made to hang out after the fundraiser. Fuck, you wished you could stay with Mark for longer, especially considering how much effort he’d put into spending time with you.

“Yeah, okay i’ll be right there.” You say a little breathlessly, hoping she doesn’t notice it. She gives you an all knowing smile as she closes the door, “Be quick.”

You frown at the fact that you have to leave early, Mark quickly comes to your defense. “Hey it’s okay, we can save it for next time.” He puts his hands on your shoulder pulling you for a hug.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave.” You pout.

He laughs, finding you adorable. “I wish you didn’t have to go either, but we have plenty of time together, right?”

You nod, “Right. I’ll see you next time okay?”

“Get home safely y/n.” You head for the door before stopping in your tracks and turning around. Mark looks confused until you pull him in once more for a short and sweet kiss.

“Goodbye Mark.” You say pulling away and leaving out the door.

“Naughty naughty girl, y/n.” Minnie tsks, tapping her finger over your head.

You push her hand away. “Shut up, let’s go.”

She laughs following you close behind.

“I still don’t know why my parents felt the need to be party poopers, they could’ve asked the neighbor to feed that damn dog.” Yuqi complains.

Minnie gasps, “I love Haku!”

“Whatever, Oh there it is!” Yuqi, says pointing down at Phantom Halloween Store.

Your friends race down to get there first, you choose to continue walking instead. There’s a TV store to the right showing a news report.

“There’s been yet another disappearance reported since a body was discovered earlier today. Police have not made a comment on the identity of the individual or what another disappearance could mean for the town of Lucville. The public demands answers. Could it be possible that the Vestal Murderer is back for another halloween or a copy cat killer has taken his place?”

“Y/N!” Yuqi’s voice calls after you from ahead. “You coming?”

You choose to ignore the rest of the report, “Im going!”

“I think this would look great on you.”

“Cat Woman?” Minnie raises her eyebrow.

“You’d look really sexy, that’s what halloweens all about, right y/n!”

“Exactly, come on Minnie, you gonna finally try and get the attention of Yuta?”

She scowls at the both of you, snatching the suit out of Yuqi’s hands. “I’m trying it on, that’s all. No promises.”

“Yesh right, you’ll rock it anyway.” You both tease her as she steps into the dressing room.

“So y/n, what are you dressing as?” Yuqi asks.

“I don’t know i’ll probably just dress as is.”

She looks as if you ate her dog, “It’s halloween. A costume is a must. No ifs or buts!”

“You think rhyming is going to help me change my mind?” You raise an eyebrow at her, minding your business looking through the masks.

“What about Mark,” You stop in your tracks, feigning a cough. “What about him?”

“Don’t you wanna do more than just make out in the basement of a frat house?”

You roll your eyes, “Minnie told you.”

“Yeah well i’m offended you didn’t!” She retorts. “If you want to impress him then you have got to dress up.”

You sigh, halloween costumes weren’t really your thing, but you didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb being the only one not dressed up.

Yuqi smirks knowing she’s got to you. “Who knows,” she shrugs, “Maybe he will end up killing your virginity.”

Your ears go red, “Yuqi!” Her eyes go wide, stepping away from you. “Why are you so loud! Do you know how embarrassing you are?”

“Please spare me okay!” She yelps as you grab onto her shirt.

“Wow y/n I didn’t take you for a bully.” Johnny’s deep voice sounds from behind you both. You let go of Yuqi, allowing for her to fix her shirt.

“You make it a habit of stalking us?”

“Ah yes, cause we came here purely to track your group of friends down.” Yuta remarks sarcastically, “A halloween store, when it’s is less than a week away.”

“We came here to look for some last minute decorations.” Mark comments before you and Yuta can begin your bickering.

“We’re here for costumes, Y/N here has got the perfect one planned.” Yuqi states, her arm sneaking around your shoulder.

“Really? What is it?” Mark looks to you.

“It’s a surprise!” Yuqi squeaks out. You’re thankful for it because you wouldn’t have known what to say at all.

“Good, you should show us at the Halloween party we’re throwing this weekend.” Johnny utters, reaching into his pocket. He pulls an invitation flier to the party, passing it to you. “It’s a costume party so make sure you’re all there.”

“All of you.” Yuta adds, “Speaking of, where’s your third?”

At that moment Minnie walks out of the dressing room. The latex suit wraps around her body hugging her figure, the mask is on too bringing out her natural cat eyes, and in her hand she grips a whip as a signature weapon.

“So do you guys think–“ the words die on her tongue. She freezes looking at the group in front of her, one of them being Yuta.

“You wanna be my dominatrix Minnie?” Yuta jests.

She turns red at his comment and closes the dressing room door, hiding behind it.

“We’ll be there.” You say.

October 30th

It felt like Halloween had came early, there were piles of candies and treats left all over the kitchen counter as well as a punch bowl you were eighty percent sure was spiked. The blood moon stood bright in the night and true its name, painting the dark sky red.

You had just arrived no longer than ten minutes ago and your friends had already happened to disappear out of sight. You made your way to the counter grabbing a red solo cup to serve yourself the blood colored punch.

“You actually want to drink that?” Mark’s voice startles you, causing you to drop the ladle back into the punch.

“Well I guess not.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d get scared.” He says, his hands going up in defense.

“It’s fine, i’ll just take a beer.” You reach for the refrigerator.

“You look beautiful,” He states, “Carrie right?”

You look down at the silk champagne colored dress you have on. “Yeah, did the crown give it away?”

“More so the blood on the costume but the crown too.”

You let out a giggle, “And you, Michael Myers?” You say almost as a question.

“Ding Ding Ding! I had my mask earlier but Yuta insisted on letting him borrow it for the time being, something about prancing the neighborhood kids?”

“Wow, he really is a menace. Is it bad i’m glad i’m not the target of his pranks though?”

He laughs, “I mean it is trick or treat right? The kids shouldn’t be that mad.”

You smile at him, he was always so playful with his words. You felt as if he understood you in ways not any other person could. You couldn’t stop your mind from remembering the kiss you both shared not too long ago.

He opened his mouth but no words came out. You felt a surge of boldness in the moment so you decided to speak for him.

“So Mark Myers, you wanna head back to the basement and finish what we started?”

You never could get used to the way he kissed you. He was always so quiet it was shocking to see this side of him. The one that was almost starving for your lips.

You sat on his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping your hips on him. You pulled away to take a breath, his lips attaching themselves to your throat.

“Fuck– Mark.” You groan, his mouth beginning to sprinkle bruises all over your neck. He kisses behind your ear, causing you to involuntarily grind your hips down.

He gasps at the sudden contact, “You’re driving me crazy.”

You let out a moan, continuing to grind your hips down.

You whine, the fabric in between you both making it hard for you to feel relief.

“Y/N baby,” He stops your movements with his hands on your hips. “ I don’t want to push you to do anything but you’re really making it hard.”

“You’re not pushing anything. I want this, I want you.”

“Fuck– I can’t hold you back.”

“Then don’t.” You say, pulling him in for another deep kiss. He kisses into your mouth, his tongue exploring you. You moan into the kiss beginning to build up the pace of your hips, his bulge growing as you continue to work yourself onto him.

“I feel so close.” You let out eagerly.

“Come on baby, come for me.” He begins to force your hips down, building more friction to your heat.

You can feel your high approaching rapidly, gripping onto his shoulders tight, your nails digging into his skin. He hisses at the feeling, you let out a weak apology.

“It’s okay, just be a good girl and finish, yeah?”

His words are enough to bring you to the edge. You feel your legs shake as your orgasm takes over your entire body. You bite down on his shoulder, trying to keep from screaming at the euphoric sensation.

He helps you ride out your orgasm until your body begins shaking with aftershocks. He lifts your face to look at him, his features soft. “How are you feeling?”

You can’t help but pull him in for another kiss, he’s shocked but returns it. You pull away looking up at him, pupils dilated and your voice coming out shy, “I want more.”

“Are you sure?” He asks slowly.

You nod your head, “Please.”

He hums, lifting you off of him so he can get up to check his counter for protection. You sit on the mattress waiting for him to find it, growing shyer as the seconds pass.

“I’ll go check upstairs for one, I’m sure Yuta’s got some lying around.” He states, “I’ll be back quickly okay?”

You nod your head, he steps out of the room to go look. You lift the blanket to cover your face, realization of the events hitting you. You were glad nobody was in the room so you could have time to blush over how good you felt.

You heard foot steps approach the door, assuming Mark had found Yuta’s pack of condoms. “Come in!”

Mark opens the door, looking tense. “We gotta go, police showed up crashing the party. Everyone has to leave.”

You both make it to your front door, out of breath for semi running the entire trip home. His hand never left yours throughout the trip and it doesn’t leave yours now. You can’t help but fidget with his fingers that you’ve only now noticed are so much bigger than yours.

“I wonder what tipped them off.” You say referring to the way the police had shut down the party.

“Something about a curfew, no parties for the time being.” He shrugs. “Listen y/n.”

Your fingers don’t stop tracing his palm as you await his sentence. “How about we hang out soon like a date?”

“Oh!” Your hands stop, taken aback by his unabashed state.

He continues, linking his hand into your own. “I’m more than just interested in you, and i’d like to show you that.”

You offer a measly smile. “I’d really like that.”

His answer’s coy. “Great, I’ll see you next time then yeah?”

You nod, he releases your hand beginning to walk away. “Bye Mark.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You ran into your home closing the door behind you hoping he didn’t notice your bashfulness as you bid him farewell. You bite your lip to calm yourself down, letting out a squeal of excitement.

A ring coming from the kitchen pulls you out of your cheerful state. You head towards the phone picking it up as it’s on the last ring.

“Yuqi? Minnie? DId you guys get home safe?”

The line is silent until you make out a strangled scream through the phone. You instantly drop it, beginning to panic. You hear muffled wheezing through the phone, choosing to pick it up again.

“Who the fuck is this? Is this the same number as before?” Your voice comes out horror-struck. “What the fuck do you want.”

The voice comes out restrained, “You.”

The line goes dead. You hear a knock on the door, grabbing a knife from the counter top and hugging it to your chest. The knocking gets louder, the doorknob twisting.

“Please just leave me alone!” You cry out.

“Y/N, it’s me. Please just open the door.” Marks voice rings out.

You run towards the door unlocking it and letting him in. He picks the knife out of your hands tossing it to the side and pulling you into his arms. You aren’t sure when you began hysterically crying but his embrace helped soothe you.

“What happened baby, talk to me.” You take in a breath, looking over to the phone.

“They won’t stop calling. I don’t know who it is or what they want from me.” You struggle to speak.

“Hey hey it’s okay.” He holds onto you tighter, “I’m here okay?”

Your sobs dwindle, your breathing becoming more steady.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks.

You shake your head, “I don’t want to be here, not right now.”

He contemplates for a moment, “Would you want to stay at my place for tonight then?”

You nod your head, wiping your tears from your face.

“Please.”

You take in the place, it’s empty besides the couch and TV in the living room and a few plants scattered around. The house smells oddly clean, which wasn’t something you expected from a college man but you weren’t going to complain.

“You can take a seat i’ll get you a water.” He says pointing at the velvet couch in the corner of the living room.

“Thank you.” You smile, taking a seat. It’s pretty comfortable for being a living room couch, you decide you can stick to sleeping there tonight. Leaving early tomorrow so you won’t cause any disturbance.

You look to the wall, a clock hangs on it reading 2:30am. You wonder if Yuqi or Minnie made it home earlier, hoping that none of them ended up in a jail cell tonight.

Mark appears in front of you, a glass of water in his hand. “Here you go,” He offers. You accept the glass taking it out of his hands.

He takes a seat next to you, offering some distance so you can sit comfortably. You chug down half of the water, setting it down beside you onto the floor.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks with a soft tone as if to not scare you.

“It’s everything I said before, I just feel very paranoid these days.” You shake your head, “I keep getting this weird feeling, I feel like someone’s been stalking me.”

His eyes go wide, “Do you know who?”

You let out a sigh, “I haven’t seen anyone, I just feel in my gut like something bad is going to happen if it hasn’t already.” He remains silent allowing you space to explain.

“I never told anyone this, but I keep having like a weird sense of deja vu. I remember so clearly that around this time five years back there was always this same feeling, like I was being followed or watched in every corner.”

You release a shaky breath, “I don’t know why but I think this person whoever he is. I feel like he wants me next.”

Mark breaks his silence, “The Vestal killer?”

“I think so.”

“That can’t be the case right? The police said he must’ve disappeared when he could after the murders right?”

You shrug, “I don’t know if that’s true. All I know is someone has been using me as a pawn in their game for the past weeks.”

“You’re right,” He responds. “Do you want to talk to Yuqi or Minnie maybe? Maybe they might have had the same feeling?”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah okay, can I borrow your phone please?”

“Of course, it’s in my room first door to your left.” You thank him before heading through the hallway into his room.

You pick up the phone beginning to dial in Yuqi’s number, there’s no answer. You try giving another attempt this time to Minnie’s number, she doesn’t pick up. You opt for sending a message to Minnie’s pager, glad you happened to remember to carry yours with you tonight.

911.

You hear Mark’s footsteps approaching, opening the door to check on you.

“None of them picked up, i’m hoping they’re not in jail or something.”

Mark chuckles, “I doubt it, I got a call from Yuta. He ran out with Minnie before the cops showed up.”

“Wow, glad to know they were having fun while shit hit the fan.” You reply sarcastically.

“They wouldn’t be the only ones.” Mark teases, referring to the events that took place between the two of you moments before the party was crashed.

You blush at the memory. “I don’t believe I recall, mind reminding me?”

He offers a coy smile, approaching you slowly. “You sure you don’t remember?” He closes the distance between you two, his arms locking you in between him and the counter.

Like muscle memory, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Not at all, You going to try and jog my memory?”

He contemplates for a moment, “I’ll make sure you don’t forget again.” He says before leaning in for a brutal kiss.

His mouth tastes sweet, youd guess it’s from the halloween candy you noticed on his counter earlier. You grip his arms pulling him closer to lick and taste all over his mouth.

His arms find their way around your waist pulling you even closer to him if that’s possible. You begin to feel the growing bulge against you, disconnecting yourself from the kiss to suck on his neck instead.

He lets out a gasp, feeling your hands find their way down to his bulge and palming it through his pants.

“Fuck– I thought you said you’d never done this before.”

“I haven’t.”

He pulls in closer to your neck, whispering directly into your ear. “Then how is it that you’re already so perfect for me.”

You suck in a breath, your neck sensitive to his touch. He takes advantage of your position, biting down into your neck. It’s not enough to draw blood but enough to get you to release a moan.

He pulls your dress from off of you, your body shivering from the exposed air. “You’re beautiful.” He says, pulling you in for another kiss.

Your body feels on fire, the pleasure is only building up making you want more. You undo his belt, your hand pushing into his pants to grab onto his dick.

He lets out a groan, pulling you up from the counter and onto his bed instead. He pulls away, lying you down on the flat surface. “Tell me now if you don’t want to go any further.”

There’s no way in hell you were going to stop anytime soon. “Let’s finish what we started.”

He took his shirt off, and you took in a breath. His body was toned, his chest and collarbones looked perfect to leave bruises and bites all over.

“Take them off.” He growled. You began to unclasp your bra, your chest falling free. He falls to his knees, tugging your legs closer to him. His head in between your thighs.

You can feel his breath on your cunt, “Fuck baby your pussy is soaking already.”

You gasp, feeling his knuckle begin to trace your slit. “Markie please.” You plead for him to touch.

“Please what baby? Use your words.”

“Please touch me.”

The second the words leave your lips, you feel his mouth on you. You yelp, his mouth connecting straight to your clit, sucking onto it roughly. He eats you out with the same harshness he kisses you with. You can’t complain though, not when his mouth makes you feel like you’ve reached the gates of heaven.

The wet sound of him eating you out only adds to your arousal. You can’t help but squirm, his arms keep you from moving too much though. “Careful baby, i’m trying to feed here.”

His tongue begins fuck into your pussy, pulling a loud moan from you. You cover your mouth to muffle the sounds as much as possible. He pulls away, you whine at the loss of contact.

“Don’t hide your noises, I want to hear how loud you get when I make you cum.” You uncover your mouth as he gets back to work, this time focusing on sucking your clit. Your hips roll feeling your orgasm fast approaching.

“Markie please don’t stop” You beg.

You feel two fingers slide into your pussy, the stretch feels so good. You roll your hips chasing your climax. The stimulation from his fingers penetrating you leave you breathless. You repeat his name over and over like a mantra.

“Markie please I want to cum. Please let me cum.”

With one last thrust of his fingers and a suck on your clit you reach your high, your eyes seeing white. He draws out your orgasm, stopping only when you hiss at the overstimulation.

You let out a breath, looking him in his eyes as he begins to undresses himself. He grabs the condom from the drawer and pulls his cock out of his boxers.

You can’t help but stare right at him, your mouth watering at the sight of his long and thick cock. There was a large vein that ran through it, his tip glowing red. You weren’t experienced but you’d seen films before, and his looked like one straight out of a porno.

He gives it a few pumps before tearing open the packaging and wrapping it around his shaft. “We’re not done yet.”

You feel him lay over you, lining his cock with your entrance. He looks to you before pushing inside, “Are you ready?” You nod. “Yes.”

He pushes himself into you, taking breaks in between to help you catch your breath. “Relax baby, god you’re so fucking tight.”

His dick looked big, but it felt even larger. You felt a slight pain as he slowly pushed himself fully in. “Fuck– Mark you’re so big.”

“It’s okay baby, it’s almost fully inside.” You nod your head, your eyes closing wishing for him to just get on with it.

His dick pushes inside you once again pulling a gasp from you. You swear you can feel it in your stomach.

“That’s it baby.” You open your eye to look down and see his hips connecting to yours, he’s bottomed out. He tests a small thrust and you let out a moan.

“Markie, you can fuck me already.” Your words are enough to snap him back into his lustful self. He starts a slow and steady pace, thrusting into you.

You let out a few noises, tears beginning to line your eyes. He notices, wiping your face with his hand. “Please kiss me.” He leans into you, kissing you gently.

You close your eyes into the kiss, feeling his lips suck your own. You pull away, a moan escaping your lips once he hits your sweet spot. “There– right there.”

He quickens his pace, pistoling his cock attacking your g-spot. Your legs wrapping around his waist, to keep him from pulling any further away from you.

“I’m close–“ You let out, his thrusts getting quicker and stronger.

“Me too.” He groans. His fingers slipping to your sensitive bud, rubbing circles making you scream in pleasure. With the next few thrusts you feel your body convulse, clenching down on him. Your nails scratch down his arms, he hisses at the sting. You reach your second climax of the night, your legs shaking from the aftershocks.

He lets out growl, the feeling of your climax triggering his own. With one last thrust, he’s finishing into the condom. He pulls out of you, you let out a whine at the feeling.

He disposes of the condom, pulling a blanket over the both of you and wrapping his arms around your body.

“I don’t think I can work my legs anymore.” You joke, closing your eyes and catching your breath.

He laughs and pulls you in closer, “That’s okay, you’re all mine now so you have no use for them anyway.”

You let out an awkward laugh. His joke coming out a bit empty. You have no time to comment on it before you feel your eyes begin to shut on their own.

You wake up the next morning bed empty. You remember the events of last night, pulling the covers over your head to hide your embarrassment. The shower is running from what sounds like the room over.

Mark is showering, I should probably go join him.

You smile to yourself and try getting up from the bed, your legs wobbly.

Oh fuck.

You slowly and carefully try walking out of the room, finding the TV on from the living room.

“After days of searching, two bodies have been found early this morning by Velvet lake. No suspects have been identified as of now, though police have said a mask was found at the crime scene.” You inhale sharply at the mask on the TV.

No, it can’t be.

“Halloween festivities have began despite police efforts to ensure proper curfew. The mask found, one of Michael Myers, will be hard to trace back, as the costume happens to be a popular one.”

You stand frozen, hearing the words repeat in your head.

There’s no way it was Mark, he was here the whole time last night.

“This just in, the bodies are presumed to be missing persons Jung Sungchan and Choi Minjae. They were discovered only an hour ago, police reporting it’s possible they could’ve just missed the killer.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Mark woke earlier than you, is it possible he’s showering now to get rid of the evidence. You begin to slowly make your way towards the bedroom to make a phone call.

You dial Minnie, praying to any god that she picks up. There’s no answer. You let out a frustrated sigh, redialing to try and see if it’ll work this time.

Come on Minnie, pick up.

The shower stops. You panic, leaving the phone on the counter and slowly stepping out of the room to leave the house. It’s as you turn the corner that you hear a click from another room.

You turn to the room on the right, finding the door slightly ajar and squeezing through it. You hear another sound of clicking coming from below the steps.

You tiptoe down the steps, finding the room filled with field tools and rope scattered everywhere. It isn’t until you turn the corner that your eyes are filled with horror.

You spot a familiar figure tied to a chair, repeatedly hitting his watch against the seat making a clicking noise. You let out a gasp, his eyes finding your own in pure terror.

Hyungseo? What the fuck was he doing here tied up.

You head over to him pulling the rope from his mouth. “Y/N you have to leave now.”

“What are you talking about.” You whisper, beginning to untie his hands.

“He is insane. You have to leave now it’s not safe.”

“I’m not going to leave you here for yourself.” You dismiss his words. “Come on we’re going.”

His hands are tied with a rope, you lean down to try and undo the knot, not finding success in tugging. “Y/N?” You hear from upstairs. Your eyes go wide at his voice calling you.

You stand, putting a finger over your mouth gesturing for Hyungseo to keep silent. In the corner of your eye you notice the wall of tools again, grabbing a sickle from off of it.

You can hear Mark’s footsteps closely approaching. You cover your mouth and hold in your breath hoping he doesn’t notice you. The door closes from up the stairs. You take in a breath before standing from your hiding place.

“There you are.” His voice comes out from behind you. You jump walking backwards as he steps forward. “Was looking all over for you little fox.”

You can barely let out any words, “What the fuck is this. Why is Hyungseo here.”

He looks genuinely appalled at your question, “What do you mean what is this? It’s all for you.”

“What?” You speak in a whisper.

“I did this for you.” He says stepping closer. “These guys are nothing compared to you, their perverted minds thinking they could ever please you the way you need.”

You hit the wall, sucking in a breath as his hand cups your face. “You’re so pure y/n I had to make sure they wouldn’t get in the way of that.”

His thumb traces your lips, you turn your face away. “That’s not what I want. You’re hurting innocent people.”

“It’s what you need y/n. It’s a shame you can’t see that.”

He pulls away, grabbing onto your wrist that’s holding the sickle. He takes it from your grip throwing it off to the side. “Was that for me? You think i’d let that happen?”

“Leave me alone,” You feel a tear roll down your cheek. “Please.”

“Hey,” He wipes your face. “I’m not going to hurt you baby. I’m protecting you.”

He walks over to where Hyungseo sits, “From him.” He pulls a knife from his pocket, “These fuckers.”

“Don’t hurt him please. Come on let’s talk about this.” You step to the side, closer to the tools on the wall.

“There’s nothing to talk about y/n. He doesn’t deserve to even breathe your air.” He drags the knife against Hyungseo’s throat. You hear the man cry out from fear.

“These men surround themselves around you hoping for a chance to take you for themselves.” He punctures his arm, Hyungseo screaming from the injury.

“Mark stop.” You grab a screwdriver from the wall, hiding it behind your back. “Please just let him go, I’ll stay with you just don’t hurt anyone else.”

He stops, looking into your eye. “I’m not asking for you to stay with me forever, that’d be unfair to you.” He frowns stepping closer to you, “I love you y/n. I’m doing this for your own good.”

You shake your head, “You’re doing this because you’re fucking insane.” He lets out a cold laugh, “If that’s what you think so be it, but I know what you need.”

“You don’t know shit.” You say, grabbing the screwdriver from your pocket and shoving it through his abdomen.

“Fuck–“ He grips his side, you push him away running to where Hyungseo sits, cutting him free from the rope. “You want to play it like this? Really babe.”

“Fuck you, i’m not your babe.” He grabs onto your hair pulling you closer to him with one hand. “I already did.”

You knock your elbow into his wound, escaping from his hold as soon as his hand lets you go. “Hurry.” Hyungseo says from up the stairs, grabbing onto your hand and helping you run up further.

You both run through the hallway, Mark close behind. “You have to go. I’ll call for help.”

“I’m not going to leave you here.”

“Go,” You warn him sternly, “I’ll hold him back.”

“I’ll look for help.” He says before running out of the door. You pick up the phone from his room dialing 911. The phone line is dead.

“You really think i’m that stupid to leave the phone connected?” You jolt from his sudden appearance. “Just leave it alone y/n if we leave now we will catch him in time. His leg is pretty bruised he won’t be able to make it so far.”

“Don’t do this please.”

“I think i’ve told you already, I’m doing this for your own good.”

His hands smoother your face, the blood left on them transferring to your face. “That’s exactly why I got rid of Sungchan, he strayed too close. He knew you were mine and yet he couldn’t hold himself back so I had to take him out.”

“No.” You cry.

“And Jihoon, he was all you ever looked at. You were falling right into his trap, into his temptations.”

“Then what about Minjae, huh?” You yell out, “He never wanted me he wanted Yuqi.”

His smile was deranged, “Honestly he was just fucking annoying.”

You shake your head, tears streaming down your face. Your body shaking in fear. “You’re evil.”

“I’m your executioner.” He looks into your eyes. There’s no more of that sweet Mark you knew before. His entire being is unhinged. He hears a sound coming from the front door, becoming distracted for a second.

You take that moment to reach for the lamp on the desk and breaking it on his head, setting yourself free from his hold. He’s stunned for a moment as you run towards the kitchen grabbing a knife from the counter.

“Get away from me!” You scream out, he stands in front of you, his head bleeding from the hit he took. “Put the knife down.”

You shake your head, “I said get away!” He puts his hands up. “Y/n you’re acting crazy, put the knife down.”

“I’m crazy?” You scream, “You’ve killed people.”

He ignores you, stepping closer. “Which is exactly why I know, you don’t have it in you. So just drop the knife.”

You pause for a moment, frozen in fear. He takes that chance to reach for your hand and grab the knife out of it. What he doesn’t realize is that you are quicker than you seem, you dodge his movement stabbing the knife through his back.

He turns slowly, blood dripping from his mouth. “Fuck, you always were smarter than anyone ever took you for.” He drops to the floor, unconscious giving you the time to run out of the house.

You’re running with blood all over your clothes. The knife is still in your hand, piercing through your palms but even the sting isn’t enough to shake off the adrenaline in your body. You can hear voices calling out to you but you can’t stop running.

It isn’t til you feel a pair of hands grabbing onto you that you stop running. “Y/N.” You break out of your thoughts, your brother’s voice stopping you in your tracks.

“Inhyuk,” You let out a shaky breath. “What are you doing here.”

“I came here as soon as I heard, you need to calm down okay? We’re here to help you.”

You look around noticing the police and paramedics parked outside of the house. Some making their way towards you already. You look at your brother finally caving into his hold and sobbing into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Did he mention any other victims?” You shake your head, the officer had been asking you questions for the past fifteen minutes but you could barely answer. You sat on the back of the ambulance, the paramedics checking you to make sure you had no major injuries.

Hyungseo was rushed to the hospital already, they said his injuries could be fatal if not treated quickly. You had a feeling he was going to be okay though.

There was no word on the state of Mark, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to know. It was hard enough to face the officer right now. “Can you give her a moment, she can always head to the station if she had any more details.” You hear your brother’s voice interject the officer.

“Oh yes, of course.” He steps away from the two of you walking over to where the sheriff stands. You were thankful for Inhyuk’s help, the last thing you needed was to be reminded of the amount of victims Mark had killed all for you.

“Mom just got here, i’m going to go talk to her okay?” You nod, “I’ll be right back.” He says, still very worried about your condition.

“You’re okay. You might experience some soreness and pain but your blood pressure is fine.” The paramedic says while removing the cuff around your arm. “I’ll give you a moment to yourself.”

He walks always leaving you alone. Your breaths become less frantic, you look up from your hands and into the house in front of you. You remember the way you’d fought Mark off, the police wondering how it was that you’d been able to escape with little to no injuries.

You didn’t have it in you to explain everything. Not the way he had told you that you were his motive for killing, or the way you’d had to stab him multiple times before running out successfully.

There’d be a time for when you’d come clean about everything, and you were fine with that. Except for one.

You had felt a rush the moment you stabbed him with the screwdriver. It was different from any adrenaline rush, no this was a rush of excitement. Then the second time, when you saw him drop to the floor, his eyes rolling into his head unconscious, you’d felt it again.

You enjoyed the way his warm blood dripped down your hands, the way he let in a sharp inhale the second you punctured his back. You loved the way it felt to see him half dead on the ground, and that was something you’d be taking to the grave.

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free-for-all-fics · 4 days ago

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So I binge watched Squid Game season 2 a couple days ago and the brainrot is back in full force for The Recruiter and The Front Man. So here’s some more Squid Game prompts! Warning: These prompts are centered around Season 2 and contain spoilers! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these and I’d love to read it! 🔴🔺🟥

1. You knew The Recruiter when he was younger, back before he worked in the games and was removing and burning up the bodies of countless people. He was like the game players and homeless people at one point in his life, having hit rock bottom. His actions in the park are an expression of self-hatred and an attempt to set himself apart from them. The Recruiter has nothing but contempt to people who choose the lottery and is more than happy to stomp the bread just to spite them, but he happens to at least approve the people who pick the bread.

“These things aren’t human. They’re just trash, uterrly useless in this world.” He kept telling himself that and worked hard for a few years. Then they gave him a gun. It felt pretty good. Like his existence was acknowledged for the first time in his life. He doesn’t know which year it was but one day he was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. His dad. His dad was suddenly standing right in front of him. He was in tears, desperately begging him to spare his life. He shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, “Ah. I’m cut out for this job.”

He had absolutely no qualms about shooting his own father dead. He even admits that when he killed his father in the games, he realized he was totally the type for his job, mentioning no remorse or guilt. But what if him shooting his own father proved his loyalty to the people he worked for and so they rewarded him by making him a recruiter and letting him keep you, the love of his life or object of obsession from his past life in the outside world. Asking the Host and his higher ups for a companion is just one thing, but it’s a big thing, and he’s scared to death that he will never see you again once he asks. Most of the staff are ruthless killers motivated by profit, but out of all of them, The Recruiter is one of the few who seems genuinely psychopathic, his businesslike attitude masking a vicious sadist who revels in humiliation, torture, and murder.

Still, it’s nothing short of a miracle in his mind that he’s allowed to have you. You’re just living your life, but then you get kidnapped and brought to an undisclosed location and while the room you’re in is admittedly very nice, you’re terrified. Turns out your kidnapper is your childhood best friend or college sweetheart who you lost touch with years ago when he went into the games. To you, he ghosted you or went missing and you were never able to find him. His own family hadn’t heard from him and didn’t know where he was. He’d go so far to keep you that he’d fake your death. He spoils you rotten but he also punishes you if you misbehave or act out of line. Treats you like a princess, fucks you like a whore kind of thing. He doesn’t keep around those dog bone shaped gags and possibly even sex toys or buy you nice lingerie and jewelry for nothing. He doesn’t want to break you as you’re his favorite toy, but he’ll do what it takes to properly train you until you learn to accept your place as his lover. His amiable facade comes down and it turns out he's psychotic and it frightens you but a part of him gets off on your fear. You see yourself as a prisoner, but he insists it doesn’t have to be that way if you just relax and love him back and be a good girl. You loved him once, didn’t you? You were his only friend. The only woman he’s ever loved. How hard can it possibly be to love him again? He’s the only one who can protect you and love you now. Everyone else thinks you’re dead.

He’d go so far as to kill anyone who stands in his way of having you, even your significant other if you have one or your family and friends. The Recruiter absolutely enjoys what he does to his victims, especially during the Russian Roulette game. You have no one else to turn to for comfort or conversation besides him. A part of him hates it when you cry but the other part of him is turned on by your tears and the fear in your eyes. He doesn’t have a god complex, more like a death complex. He’s given himself over completely to his philosophy of death. He believes he’s Death incarnated into a man with how people’s lives are in his hands, and that includes yours. And aren’t there so many famous artworks of Death and His Maiden? Why shouldn’t he be able to keep you as his?

If he was your first ever sexual partner, he’d make for damn sure he’s the only one through silently and stealthily arranging for your other potential partners to die in tragic “accidents” or go missing with their bodies never found. Just like he’s dedicated himself to the games, he’s dedicated himself to proving he’s worthy of you everyday by protecting you and giving you everything you ask for - except real freedom, of course. He can only give you semblances of freedom by allowing you outside under heavy guard watch or his watch. You can’t go anywhere alone anymore. You can’t have a cell phone that connects to the internet (or if you are allowed the internet, you’re only given access to certain websites while the rest are blocked) or any phone numbers except his. He’s practically isolated you.

2. Going off the idea of what if you knew The Recruiter back when he was younger and working in the games: Alongside him, you’re also a pink guard. You’re one of, if not the only female guard. The Recruiter is the first to find out that you’re a woman despite the mask covering your face, the voice modulator, and the suit covering your body. You spend a lot of time together when you have to shoot the eliminated players and then remove and burn the bodies. You use a separate channel on your walkie-talkies to have private conversations while you’re on a job during the games or to talk from your separate dorms after the day’s work is done. When other male guards try to attack or sexually assault you in your room for getting in the way of their illegal organ harvesting side hustle due to you shooting the bodies in the heart or head to ensure the players die quickly and make the organs unusable, he comes to your rescue when he hears the struggle over the walkie when you manage to press the button. He practically breaks your door down and takes the guards out with his bare hands or a random object in your room. He’s so strong and skilled he doesn’t even need to use a gun or a knife (in the show he subdued two men just with his briefcase). You watch as he subdues both guards, knocking them out with ease. He would’ve loved to kill them in that moment, but he doesn’t have the right to do that. He can only report the incident to the Captain/In-Ho. Pink guards cannot kill other pink guards. They’re only permitted to kill players. Only the Captain can kill pink guards.

After interrogating them and reviewing the security footage, In-ho kills the guards who attacked you and puts an end to the organ harvesting for that year by killing all of the guards operating it. Whether they sell off organs from the dead or devour them, he doesn’t give a damn. However, the most crucial element of this place is equality. Everyone is equal in these games, including guards. Players compete in a fair game under the same conditions. Guards work under the same conditions. They are to follow the instructions they are given. There is a principle to these games. And those guards that attacked you for being a woman and doing your job and the guards operating the organ harvesting side hustle broke that principle.

Later, after work is done for the day and guards are ordered to return to their rooms, The Recruiter sneaks into yours so that the two of you can have sex. When he saw you getting attacked, he wanted more than anything to rush to your side and comfort you and hold your hand and ride his adrenaline-filled high by having sex with you after subduing the guards, but duty called so he couldn’t. When In-ho is overlooking the security cameras and notices The Recruiter in your room instead of his own with both of your masks off, locked in a heavy make out session while he has you lifted in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangling in and pulling his hair while his hands cup under your thighs to hold you up against the wall, your pink jumpsuits half way unzipped, he changes the cameras to play back earlier footage of both you and him so that it looks like you’re alone in your rooms so his higher ups won’t suspect anything while you inevitably do whatever it is you want to do. The Recruiter and you have proven your loyalty. You both deserve a reward. As long as you’re both back in your own rooms by morning call, he doesn’t care.

After that, The Recruiter shoots his own father dead after he fails a game. You and he work your way up to becoming the recruiters you are now, possibly even posing as a friendly married couple to get vulnerable people to trust you more (even better if you’re actually married as it makes the ruse more convincing). You do love each other in your own way, but you also are well aware that love makes people incredibly easy to manipulate and you use that to your advantage in your line of work. Together you prey on people who are hanging by a thread and are the best performing recruiters the games have ever had. In the privacy of your home, you listen to opera music, share drinks, and get down to all kinds of kinky shit when you find yourselves in the mood. You take turns when it comes to who’s dominant and who’s submissive, and your sex games often include bondage, roleplay, pain, and blood. And sometimes the blood isn’t even yours or his. When people get nosy for their too damn good, you and/or he have to take care of that.

3. Underneath the smiling facade, The Recruiter is little more than a small fry. When Gi-hun repeatedly calls him a lapdog and considers him nothing compared to whoever he works for, it gets under his skin, although he doesn't have a complete breakdown over it. Getting reminded of this repeatedly is part of why The Recruiter eventually shoots himself in the chin. But let’s pretend The Recruiter doesn’t commit suicide. Instead of being strictly dominant or strictly submissive, this man is a switch. While he loves to be in control sometimes and use your body however he wants, there’s also times when it’s you who’s the dominant one. You dress up and behave as a dominatrix while you put a mask over his face to blindfold him, gag him with the bone shaped gags and tie him up, doing to him whatever you want and calling him your dog. Your good boy. He runs, barks, wags his tail, does whatever you, his mistress, says and you reward him with praise, treats, etc. You do the same thing when it’s his turn to be the master and for you to be his good girl, his bitch. This man would probably be into puppy play whether it’s you who’s the puppy or him. And yeah that would probably include either of you being locked in a human sized cage or an actual dog kennel as punishment for whenever you misbehave. You’d take turns between who’s holding the leash and who’s on it on all fours, etc. The sex acts you do together, this dominatrix and roleplay arrangement you have, it’s like therapy for him in a way. A way for him to reclaim being called a dog when he was young and poor and turning it into something good. Even if it’s dehumanizing at times. The humiliation and the sadism is part of what turns you both on. Of course you’d have a safe word, aftercare, and all of that. But let’s be real: He’s just as skilled as you are at taking orders, deepthroating objects, and being penetrated.

4. Inspired by the film “The Odds”: You join an underground game of pain endurance, hoping to win the cash prize of one billion won. But it’s not the traditional squid games where you’re competing with other players in person. This is something different. This is the squid games before the squid games became what it is today. Instead, you’re isolated in a windowless room with little more than a table, a couple of chairs, a cot to sleep in and a toilet to shit in. It’s like a prison almost. Whenever you’re given a shower, if ever, you’re heavily sedated so you don’t lash out against the workers bathing you. The Recruiter is one of many who are assigned to players to keep them company, explain the rules of each game, and oversee their progress. Each player has their own recruiter assigned to them and The Recruiter we’re familiar with in the show is the one assigned to you. You have nobody else but him to keep you company. You don’t ever see anyone, don’t ever hear anyone except for him. He looks awfully familiar and you have a strong feeling you’ve met him before, that you know him from somewhere. Throughout the course of the week that you’re there, you’re determined to figure out how you know him. In the meantime, you flirt with each other, playfully talk about getting married and having a house and kids when you get out.

But at some point during the course of the games, the playfulness erodes and The Recruiter turns dead serious, revealing that he’s so in love with you that it’s like an unhinged obsession. Maybe you choosing to come here was in actuality you being lured into a trap, all a part of his elaborate plan to finally get you right where he wants you to fulfill his sick and twisted romantic and sexual fantasies. Maybe before that, he paid sex workers and strangers who looked like you to sleep with him, just to keep him satiated so he wouldn’t snap and kidnap you before the time was right. He might’ve gone so far as to call them by your name and become really scary real fast if they tried to correct him. The things he did to those women might’ve been so bad that they were unspeakable. But he paid good hush money to keep them quiet. And if that didn’t work, a bullet always did. But sleeping with all those women could never live up to the real thing. Nobody watching you now would be able to hear you nor would they care if he had sex with you in between games. He’s done it before with desperate female players who wanted to stay alive a little longer. And if they performed sexual favors for him as he asked - more like ordered them to do - Who is he to deny pretty women an extra five minutes of being allowed to breathe before he pulls the trigger? A deal is a deal and he’s a businessman.

He’s a man of do the wrong thing, yield rewards. To him, he’d feel like he’s entitled to your love and your body after all he went through in his life to get to this point. He’s worked his way up from a nobody who just disposed of and burned bodies, then they gave him a gun, then he became a recruiter. One of the best if not the best in the company. He’d kill for you. Even if you don’t ask him to. Even if you plead with him not to do anything and let it go. But he’s also so unhinged he might even hurt or kill you if you fail to live up to his deluded fantasies. If he does hurt you, he’d do the classic, “Look what you made me do! I didn’t want to have to do that. I didn’t want to hurt you but you gave me no choice so this is all your fault and not mine,” shtick.

You soon discover the game's rigged, and your real opponent is The Recruiter - a sadistic psychopath, who works for the Host and the organizers of the game and knows everything about you. He knows why you’re here and about your child, bringing them up to keep you motivated to continue before you ever mention them to him. He’s just one of many of a network of people ranging from VIPs to guards who are part of this game. The way you see it, you have three choices: Provoke The Recruiter into killing you if you don’t die from the games before then, give into The Recruiter’s sexual advances to survive without playing all of the games and join him, becoming his lover/wife and possibly a Recruiter yourself, or survive through all of the games and kill The Recruiter. He keeps saying you can leave at any point but you realize over time that this is a lie and if you try to leave, you’ll be shot dead either by him or one of the guards.

(Below is some dialogue from the movie with some minor changes to showcase how Recruiter coded this scenario is.)

“So, yes, it is necessary to keep the location a secret due to the legal technicalities of the game. You know the rules, right?”

“Yup, but you can tell me again, Mr...”

“No names. It works better for me if we keep things less personal, you know?”

“Right. Kind of like a manager-employee relationship. I get it.”

“If you like. Anyway, the game, there are 19 other players at 19 other locations just like this.”

“In this city?”

“All over the country. There's a clearing house that receives and broadcasts the signal to select clientele. The same clearing house acts as a broker for all wages concerning the game.” He puts in his earpiece and presses a button. “Receiving end, online? Okay. Yeah, just a couple minutes, we'll get started.” He sits across from you at the table.

“Have you done this a lot?”

“A few times, yeah. There are five preliminary rounds followed by the finalist round. If you leave at any point during the preliminary rounds, you will leave with zero prize money.”

“I won't quit.”

“All players who get to the finalist round are committed to the game and may not leave.”

“I said I won't quit.”

“Okay. Now, the finalists will continue to play until there's only one player left. That winner will receive the money.”

“Have you ever hosted a winner?”

“Let's not worry about that. You just stay focused.”

“It's weird that people would bet on something like this.”

“Do you know any real gamblers? Real gamblers will make odds on anything.”

“And the prize money, it's a lot?”

“Some people think so.”

“I heard it was a billion won.”

“Where'd you hear that?”

“Same place I heard about the game.”

“Hm. That's correct, and the funds will be deposited in the winner's account.”

“They must pay you a lot. That's why you're here, right?”

“I'm here for the same reason as you.”

“I doubt that.”

“Now it's almost time.” He takes a candle out of his briefcase and sets it on the table.

“I thought there was gonna be a gun.”

“Not yet.”

“Have I met you before?”

He listens to his device. “Congratulations, your drug test came back clean.”

“Of course it did.”

“I'm sorry, we have to check. Some players come in high, performance enhancing drugs, so to speak.”

“Well, drugs are where you go when you can't stand the pain anymore.”

“Where do you go, if you don't have drugs?”

“I guess we'll find out.”

He listens to his device. “Hm. Yes? We're good. You're good? Okay, standing by.”

“I know that they can see us, but can they...”

“Hear us? No. Say what you want. Your secrets are safe with me.”

“I don't have any secrets.”

“Everyone has secrets.”

“No, all my shit's pretty much out in the open.”

“All the shit you know about.”

“I think I know my shit pretty well.”

“This game has a way of illuminating a person.” He lights the candle.

“Oh, that's nice. You gonna put on some mood music? I'll take the Chardonnay.”

“So here's what's gonna happen, round one, on my signal, you, along with 19 other players, will hold your hand over the candle and keep it there. When three people have removed their hand, the round is over. Those players are out of the game. Everyone else will advance to the next round. Understand? Hello?”

“Yeah, I just... I heard it was different.”

“Used to be. They like to change things up, keep it exciting. You don't have to do this. It's still not too late to leave.”

“I've got nowhere else to be.”

“How about a home?”

“I messed that up.”

“You must have family somewhere. Everyone has family.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Kids?”

“No.”

“But if you did, how would you feel if someone took him or her away from you?”

“I guess I wouldn't like it.”

“And how would you feel knowing that he or she should've been taken away from you...that she...he, was better off...and that maybe now the only thing to do is to win a big pile of money so that he or she could have the kind of life that he or she deserves?”

“Hm. I don't think I'd ever risk my life over a pile of money.”

“Well, that's all mine's good for at this point.”

“Hey, listen. Look at me. We're in this together, you and me. I'm rooting for you, you understand? So just settle in. We'll do this. Word of advice, this is as much a mental game as anything else, so just keep that in mind if you really want to see this through to the end.”

“I'm gonna hear the words ‘you win’, or I'm not gonna hear anything at all.”

“That's it. Visualize success, that's good.”

“You say that to all your players?”

“Just the ones that seem to need it.”

“Have you ever played, from my side?”

“Let's get through round one, then we'll talk. We're about to begin. Last chance before the pain starts.”

“The pain started a long time ago.”

Round One

You hold your hand over the candle, while The Recruiter encourages you the whole time.

“That's it. Keep going. You can do this. Come on. Just breathe. Focus on breathing. You can do this. Come on. Just breathe. Okay, focus on breathing. Focus on breathing. Another player's out. Just one more player. Just one more player has to quit. Number three's out! You made it. You did it. Let me see. Come on.” He takes out a first aid kit from his briefcase and treats your wound. “So, we made a deal, and no, I haven't played the game from your side of the table.”

“How many?”

“How many what?”

“How many times have you done this?”

“14.”

“And how many of those players won?”

“You don't want to know.” A long pause before he finally answers, “None of them. Most players quit before the final round.”

“But some of them made it.”

“I've seen two men and three women blow their brains out.”

“You're just a little bad luck charm, aren't you? Did you ask the other players why they did it?”

“Same reason as you, the money.”

“Same reason as everyone I'm playing against now?”

“I wouldn't worry about the other players.”

“I just want to know who my competition is.”

“Most games, you're competing against someone, right? But in this game, you can't affect the other players. Can they make you leave this room? Who can?”

“You could try.”

“Okay, take me out. Who does that leave? That's right, you. And that's what they're betting on, how much you can take.”

“I'll take whatever you throw at me.”

“It won't be me throwing it at you.”

“So there is someone else here.”

“I'm a facilitator. The challenges for each round, they've been chosen by the organizers.”

“So it's not you. You're just doing their dirty work for them.”

“I didn't make you come here. I didn't make you sit there. I didn't force you to put your hand over a candle. You think I enjoy watching you do this? You think I like watching people hurt themselves? Man. Things I've seen, you don't forget it, you know?”

“Then why do you keep doing it?”

“You've never done something you knew wasn't good for you? Sit down. We're on the same side. That's the thing about this game, it...” He’s interrupted by information coming through his earpiece. “Round two, ready.”

“The thing about this game?”

“What?”

“You were just about to say ‘the thing about this game.’”

“The thing about this game is that it changes you.”

“Good?”

“I don't know how good it's been for me.”

“Maybe you've been playing from the wrong side of the table. Are you sure we haven't met before?”

“It's time.”

Round Two

“Round two. Players will put their bare right foot inside the box. The three that remove their feet lose. The rest move onto the next round.”

“And there's something in the box?”

“Yes.”

“And you don't know what it is?”

“No.”

Something from inside the box moves and makes a noise, causing you to jump.

“Hey, hey. It's okay.”

“What's in there?”

“I don't know.”

“That's bullshit.”

“They don't tell us.”

“You said that you have done this before.”

“It's different every time. It's probably not as bad as you think.”

“Fuck it, I'm out of here.”

“Now wait. What about your child?”

“Why do you care? You get paid anyway, I assume.”

He removes his ear piece so the organizers won’t hear what he says to you next. “Are you afraid of rats?”

“What?”

“Are you afraid of rats?” He puts his earpiece back in. “You need to decide, soon. One player just dropped out. That just leaves two for elimination.”

“This is insane.” You remove your shoe and sock. “So it's just in there waiting for me to put my foot in?”

“There's a separation barrier. When I get the signal, I remove it.”

“How fun for you.”

“I'm right here with you.”

“That's a comfort.”

“No, I mean it, okay? I'll help you.”

“You better.”

“It's almost time.”

“I must be crazy.”

You put your foot in the box.

“You got this.”

“I got this.”

“I mean, nothing's gonna happen. Oh, god, it's moving. It keeps moving.”

“Breathe. Mm-hm.”

“It's touching me, it's touching me. It's on me. It's off, it's off, it's off. Oh, fuck!”

“Think something else, okay? Don't think about this.”

“Oh, God, ow, ow, ow! It's back on me.”

“Think of something else. Okay, think of something else, don't think about this.”

“Oh, shit. I can't do this.”

“You can, yes, you can.”

“Ow, it's biting me! It's biting me.”

“No, it's not... One player's out, okay? That just leaves one more left.”

“Ow! Ow, it's eating me!”

“Look at me, look at me! I'm right here with you. Do it for me. Say it. Say it!”

“Do it for you. Do it for you.”

“Good. Again.”

“Do it for you.”

“Good. Again.”

“Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you.”

“That's it! It's over. It's over.”

You remove your bleeding foot from the box and cry in The Recruiter’s arms as he holds you.

He’s wrapping your foot with fresh white gauze. “Don't look. Okay.” He kisses your bandaged foot. “I kissed your boo-boo.”

You have some time to kill while you and he wait for the next game. He gives you a bottle of water. You need to stay hydrated. Lots of water.

“Gonna figure out where I know you from.”

“Well, good luck. Okay, let's say you don't quit.”

“I won't.”

“Right, you won't. Let's say you make it. You've already told me what you're gonna do for your child. What are you gonna do for you? If you really think you're gonna make it through, you should have a plan.”

“Yeah, well, I'm not really big on plans.”

“No, seriously, instead of giving your child the money, why don't you take them somewhere instead? Find a nice quiet place, bring along their daddy.”

“You had me going till you mentioned that asshole.”

“Okay, not him, a nice guy.”

“Why is it that everyone thinks that if a woman has problems, a man is somehow the answer?”

“You don't believe in love?”

“Maybe some people just aren't meant for it. Maybe they're just not built...for it.”

“Maybe some people haven't met the right guy.”

“And that's you? From bad luck charm to Mr. Right?”

“You could do worse.”

“Okay. All right. So say it is you, Prince Charming, man of my dreams, we're living together.”

“Mm-hm, married.”

“Really?”

“I don't do that cohabitation shit. You either commit or you get out.”

“And that's you? Mr. Commitment?”

“Damn straight.”

“So, is this a proposal?”

“I guess it is.”

“Well, either it is or it isn't.”

“It is.”

“Sweep me up my feet, why don't you?”

“You don't find this place romantic? So, we're in our home...”

“I didn't say yes.”

“You playing hard to get?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. A little. I mean, come on, we just started dating. How do I know you're not just marrying me for my money?”

“What if I don't need your money? What if I already have money?”

“Great, then let's get outta here. I don't have to do this anymore.”

“Well, then again, maybe I don't have that much money.”

“Okay, so, no money. Why should I say yes?”

“Because, deep down inside, you believe in love too. So, what's it gonna be?”

“How about we get through the next round, then I'll tell you.”

“You are playing hard to get. Ready for round three.”

Round Three

“What the fuck is it? Or should I ask what goes in it?”

“Your other foot. We go till three players drop out. You can do this.”

“Have you ever done this one before?”

“No. This is new territory for me. They're telling me we need to get ready.”

“Should I sit or stand?”

“Whatever you prefer. We're ready.”

“I don't suppose anybody's dropped out yet. Just wait.”

“Okay. Round three, turn one. I'm sorry.”

“That feels as bad as it looks.”

“All players are still in. Second turn. Hey, hey, hey, hey. Do it for me, remember?”

“Wait, wait for me. Wait.”

“Turn number three.”

You pass out from the pain. You wake up to his voice.

“Player three has quit.”

He wraps up your other foot. “There. All better.”

“You’re pretty good at that.”

“One of my many talents.”

“Nine players are out by my count.”

“You're knocking them down. So...what about the answer now?”

“The answer to what?”

“Are we gonna do it, when all this is over? Are we gonna tie the knot?”

“Sure.”

“Well, then. Well, then how about a kiss for your fiancé?”

He kisses you. While he does, he slips a pill into your hand. “It's for the pain. Don't let them see,” he whispers into your ear. “Well, passed the halfway point.”

“Yeah, after this, marriage should be easy.”

“Yeah. Maybe every couple should go through something like this.”

“It's a great story to tell the grandkids.”

“Grandkids? We haven't even gone on the honeymoon.”

“Please, honeymoon.”

“Why not? Must be somewhere you want to go. Vegas, Paris, Costa Rica?”

“Not really.”

“Come on, nothing? Nothing interests you? And afterwards, when we get back to our apartment in the city...”

“In our house in the country.”

“Country's boring.”

“Can't have horses in the city.”

“Horses? More than one?”

“You can't have just one horse.”

“I'm not shoveling horse shit.”

“Fine, I want a divorce.”

“On what grounds?”

“Irreconcilable differences.”

“Okay, fine. A house in the country with horses.”

“Wow, what a pushover.”

“What can I say? I'm in love.”

You lay down on the ground with him, side by side, staring up at the ceiling.

His hands are behind his head. “You know, you can rest in that house in the woods.”

“Then I'd sleep for a week.”

“And after you wake up?”

“I don't know, maybe plant a garden.”

“What do you know about gardens?”

“As much as I know about anything else, I guess.”

“You think you could keep a bunch of plants alive?”

“What about you, mister? You're just gonna live off my money?”

He sits up. “There's lots of stuff I can do.” He gets up off the ground.

“I didn't mean anything by it.”

“I know what you meant.”

“Come on, I was just joking.”

“Sounded like an insult.”

“Why would I insult you? You're the only friend that I have.”

“That's true. Standing by.”

“God, can't they just give it a minute?”

“I know, like, what are they in a hurry for? They'll make their money.”

“Have you met them, the people running this?”

“A couple. They're not like what you think.”

“I think they're a bunch of weirdos who get off watching sick shit.”

“That's not it, at all. They're more like researchers of human behavior, and this is the ultimate laboratory.”

“Come on.”

“No, seriously, how do you think they have the money to fund an operation like this? They get to bet on human behavior every day, and win. Of course they'd be interested in a game like this.”

“We're just pawns to them. I doubt they even see us as people at all.”

“But it doesn't really matter what they think though, does it? And anyway, you should be grateful they've even given you this opportunity. If you weren't here, where would you be?” He sits on the table and slides his body over to you. “On the street, in a crack house sucking dick for a fix until your looks rot away and your teeth fall out? Where would your child be? In a group home getting daily beat downs from all the other toss aways with fuck-ups for parents. You know, you should be thanking the people who created this game, and you should be thanking me. This is the best opportunity for someone who screwed up all their other options.”

“Well, I'll be sure to send them thank you notes later.”

He suddenly smiles. “Look at that, our first fight. Come on, I was just playing. Let's get back to our house.”

“Maybe later.”

“Time’s up.”

Round Four

“How long can you hold your breath? It's a simple question, really. How long can you hold your breath?”

“I don't know.”

“Round four is easy. You just have to hold your breath.”

“I just have to hold my breath?”

“Yeah, well, that is while I'm holding your head underwater. You don't have a fear of drowning, do you? Hydrophobia, I think it's called. 'Cause if you did, this will be pretty tough.” He takes a bullet out of his pocket. “Bite on this. I'm kidding, just hold onto it. Jeez. Here's what's gonna happen, you're gonna face the tank, and when the time comes, I'm gonna hold your head under the water. You... You hold your arm out. If you want me to let you up, you just let go of the bullet. See? First three players to let go are out. Everyone else stays. You trust me, right? Well, you should, we're married.”

“I guess.”

“You guess? What do you mean you guess? You wouldn't marry somebody you don't trust, would you? Good. You know, it's good that you trust me 'cause that way you know that when it's time when everyone drops out, I won't just keep your head under the water. Oh. Looks like we have someone afraid of drowning. Our first dropout. You're not gonna drop out, right?”

“Right.”

“Because you want that house in the country, and you trust me, right?”

“Right.”

“Say it.”

“I trust you.”

“And you love me. Say it.”

“I love you.”

“Oh.” He tucks your hair behind your ear. “Whoops. Looks like we got another dropout. Okay, we got to get this thing going before we lose any more. Deep breaths. When the third player quits, I'll let you up. Get ready. On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

While your head is underwater, you dissociate and experience flashbacks of your life before this, of your child. “I love you.” You hear their voice say. That’s the last thing you see before The Recruiter pulls you back up as you cough and move your wet hair out of your face.

“I thought you were gone! Jesus, why didn't you let go of the bullet?”

“I swallowed it. Only way to make sure that I didn't drop it.”

The Recruiter gives you a towel, admittedly impressed.

“You know, with a little effort you could be a very attractive woman.”

“What am I supposed to say to that?”

“Well, when someone compliments you, it's polite to thank 'em.”

“Thank you.”

“How many guys have you dated?”

“How's that any of your business?”

“Well, if we're gonna be married, it's something a husband should know. Come on.”

“Come on, what?”

“How many?”

“I don't know.”

“That many?”

“Do you want to know how many I've dated, or how many I've fucked? Because I didn't keep count, but it was a lot. And sometimes I didn't even know their names.”

“Now why do I get the feeling that you're saying this just to hurt me?”

“You're sick in the head.”

“I bet you were a real looker. I bet the boys couldn't keep their hands off you. Hey, how old were you when you did it the first time? Sweet 16, 15? Yeah. You were an early bloomer.” He cups your breast and you instinctively slap him. He slaps you back, harder. “I'm sorry, but you should not have made me do that.”

“You know, you can't do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Come on, don't be like that. Let's get back to how it was before. And, you know, to tell you the truth, I've been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“You can't do whatever it is that you want.”

“Who are you kidding? Like you didn't want me to.”

“What?”

“Look, if you didn't want me to do that, why are you still here? You could've left at any time.”

“I’m here for the game, that's all.”

“Maybe this is part of it. You ever think about that?”

“No.”

“No? Well, of course it is. Why else would you be here?”

“For my child.”

“No!” He slams his hand on the table. “Don't give me that shit. No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We alone walk the path. The Buddha said that. He was a smart guy, everyone says so. You put yourself here. You decided to stay 'cause you know that we belong together.”

“I didn't ask for any of this.”

“Why else are you here? Look, you could've gone any time. There's the door. It's always been there. Go on. Go on if this is so wrong. Nobody's stopping you. You won't go, because you know you belong here. You deserve this. Your whole life has been a long, long path that's led you to me.” He grabs your face and forcefully kisses you while you sob. At that moment, a guard walks in with a long bag containing something for the next game, causing him to move away and break the kiss. “We're on a schedule. You might want to reconsider. This might be your last chance.”

“For what?”

“To make love as a whole person. Round five. Here's where you really start to leave some skin in the game, so to speak.” He opens the bag, revealing a red hot branding iron. “It's not that bad, really. The Yakuza, you know the Yakuza, right? Japanese mafia, they do this kind of thing all the time. When they've screwed up, they remove body parts. It’s how they apologize for... Oh, forget it. Just take my word for it, you're not the first, you won't be the last, unless you want to leave. You go through with this, you won't be the same. Some cultures would consider you heavily scarred. Personally, I think you'll be plenty serviceable, but, you know.... If you're afraid of the pain, I can give you another Oxy.”

You take the Oxy that he gave you out of your pocket and set it on the table. He quickly swipes it off the table and puts it in pocket so the organizers don’t see.

“Jesus! Suit yourself. After this round, you'll probably be a freak, probably have a limp, from your legs being burned so much. Who will want to fuck you then?”

“I’m sure as long as I have all my lady parts, any sick fuck like you will.”

He pulls out protective gloves from the bag and puts them on. He takes hold of the branding rod.

“We're ready. Scoot your chair forward and remove your pants.”

You do as instructed, not letting yourself feel embarrassed for being sat half naked in front of him.

Round Five

Your ears ring from all the pain you’ve suffered so far. The skin on your thighs is burning still, your once flawless skin now marred with dark patches. Luckily the brand isn’t engraved with anything, but you know The Recruiter still gets a sick joy out of branding you. Like he thinks doing so means he owns you. Still, The Recruiter admits to you that he’s impressed with how many burns you’ve been able to endure so far. Some turns he held the branding iron to your skin longer than others, making the coloration in your skin vary. As the rounds progressed, you moved up from your thighs to one of your arms.

“Well, it's about time now. Turn seven. After this, your wrist will hurt so bad you won't be able to pull the trigger with your left hand. That career in trick shooting, it's out. Go on, get ready. You know, think about it, you don't really use your left arm much anyway. It's a right-handed world, you know?”

You’re whimpering and sobbing from the pain. Despite how difficult it is, you get up from your chair and walk away. You stand in front of the door.

“You're about to lose. You go through that door, all of this would've been for nothing. Is that what you want?”

You knock on the door.

“Wait! Three players have all just dropped out. You made it. Don't do it.”

“I have to pee.”

A masked guard opens the door and escorts you to the bathroom. He’s standing there the whole time, watching you impassively while you wash your hands and have an emotional breakdown in the corner. You stare at yourself in the mirror and gradually calm down, your resolve hardening as you think about your child. You hold a middle finger up in the mirror and pretend you’re giving it to The Recruiter.

When you make it back to the room, The Recruiter is sat in a chair, holding your discarded underwear in his hand. At some point during the game, it was too painful to wear them when the fabric brushed against the burns on your upper thighs.

“You mind? I thought I'd hold onto these. You know, something to remind me of our time together. What? Like you're not gonna use 'em. I’ll buy you much nicer lingerie to wear for me when this is over.” He tucks your underwear into his inner suit jacket pocket. “Well, sit if you're gonna. You know, I'll tell you something. I knew from the moment I saw you that you'd go the distance.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hm. Damaged people are tough. Fire, temper, steel, and all that.”

“You could tell I was damaged, huh.”

“Honey, you shone like a lighthouse. I wish I could've bet on you.” He gestures to the revolver on the table in between you. “Ever use one of those before? Don't worry, they're pretty user-friendly. You just point and click. If you don't hear the click, you're already dead.”

“Have you been a dick to all the players you've done this with, or am I just special?”

“I mean, they're all special, really, but if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite.” He winks at you.

It’s finally clicked for you who The Recruiter is. “I knew I'd met you before.”

“No. I’d remember you.”

“I've known you my whole life. See, I watched you get drunk and smash my older sister’s head into the front door when you were dating her. I dropped out of high school when you got jealous of my friends because you thought I was sleeping with them. I lied for you every time the neighbors called the cops because of the noise. I know you, very well.”

“You know, now that you mention it, you do look familiar. You look like every smartass bitch I've ever known. All the teachers who thought they were so clever, thought that they could just push around a kid. All the bitches in school who thought they could just lead a guy on, tease him. Those women at the jobs where they just wiggle their tits and their ass to get ahead of some poor son of a bitch who does the real work, who carries his load and hers too. You look like every stupid cunt who thinks the world should bow down and worship her because she was born with a pussy made of solid gold.”

“Nice. You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I don't know what happened. You know, we started out so good. How did we end up like this?”

“I guess it was fate.”

“You think?”

“I think...I think…you know what I think?”

“Tell me.”

“I think that you found the perfect job to indulge in your sick fucked up fantasies.”

He slaps you, causing you to fall out of your chair and back up against the wall.

“You're right.” He slaps you again. “I can do anything I want to right now. You know what's funny? That's what you want me to do. You screwed your life up so bad, you'll take any punishment I dish out ‘cause you know you deserve it.”

“Don't touch me again.”

“I'm not finished.”

“You asshole. You have sat there and watched me do everything that I've done and you think that you can hurt me?!” You slap yourself.

“Oh, that's cute.”

You slap yourself again.

“Stop it.”

You slap yourself again and again and again and again and again. “You fucker. You wouldn't have the guts to do what I've done.”

Angry, he slams the camera face down on the table so the people watching can’t see as he grabs the gun off the table and wraps his arm around your neck, holding you in place and cutting off your oxygen. “You think you're some kind of hard bitch now?! Is this what you want, hard bitch?! You want to play?! Let's play.” He presses the gun to your head and pulls the trigger three times, all blanks as the gun clicks.

“What? What?!”

“You…don't…scare me.” You choke out.

He lets you go, slams the gun back on the table, and puts the camera back up. “That round’s a freebie.” He sits back down and combs his hands through his hair. “If you're gonna stay... It's time.”

You pull the chair back up off the floor and sit back down. “Just out of curiosity, later, if I decide to quit, what's gonna stop me?”

“You take that chair. If you try to leave the game, either me or my compatriots will shoot you dead.”

You sit down and scoot your chair up towards the table, getting ready.

Final Round

“There are five players in the final round. This will consist of as many turns as necessary to eliminate four players. All players will pull the trigger simultaneously.” He puts the bullet into the chamber and spins it, then places the revolver back on the table. “Wait for my signal. Take the position, please.”

You put the gun to your head.

“We're ready.”

He nods at you.

You pull the trigger. Blank.

“Thought you'd be disappointed.”

He laughs. “No. I'm glad you make it through the first round. I hope you last a long time. I want to see you break. That'll be fun, to watch you break down completely before you die.” He removes the bullet from the chamber and sets the gun aside. “Just waiting on the report. And one player has been eliminated. Down to you and three others. Relax. We'll give them a minute to place their bets. Is it everything you hoped for?”

“This is the easiest thing I've done all day.”

“Maybe so, but there's another asshole out there somewhere who went through everything you went through and now he's just a pile of meat, brain splattered everywhere. See, you think your pain buys you something, that you earn some kinda big cosmic karma where now you’ll get what you deserve. I got news for you, pain is just pain. It doesn't get you anything.”

“You're wrong.”

“We'll see, when it's your brains that are on the floor. Oh. Time for turn two. You know, if you die here...” he puts the bullet in the chamber and spins it. “…nobody will know. We'll just scoop up your body, throw it to an incinerator. It'll be like you never existed. Nobody will know you were ever here.”

“But I'll be dead, so I won't care.” You put the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank.

“Bang!” He yells, making you jump and drop the gun on the table as he laughs. “Oh. Oh, another one down. They're dropping like flies. The odds are catching up with you.”

“Yeah?”

“How many times you think you can beat this?”

“29.”

“That's a very specific number.”

“Well, it's as far as I ever got.”

“When?”

“When I practiced.”

“You practiced?”

“Oh, yeah. Bought a real gun, put an empty shell in the chamber, spun it around. It almost never came up, and I did it a lot.”

“What's the lowest number of times you went before it did come up?”

“3.”

“Hm. Well, just so happens we're coming up on turn number three.” He puts the bullet in the chamber and spins it.

“What part do you enjoy the most, watching all the pain, or this?”

“Darling, I like it all. Take your position, please.”

You take the gun from his hand and put it to your head. You pull the trigger. Blank. You slide the gun across the table at him so fast it nearly falls into his lap as he gasps.

“Why don't you take a turn?”

“Because I don't have to play.”

“That's a shame. I bet if you had to play, you'd see things a little differently.”

“Lucky for me, then, that I don't.”

“Lucky for you. So?”

“So, what?”

“What was the outcome of that round?”

“Oh. Nothing.”

“What?”

“No players were eliminated.” He tells you slowly, like you’re an idiot. “It happens, more often than you might think. Something wrong?”

“No.”

“Really? Because you look like every other dumb prick I've seen blow their brains out.”

“You ever see anybody win?”

“Not a one.”

“Then I'm due. See, it's kinda like the lottery, somebody's got to win.”

“Except when they don’t.”

“Every time you spin that cylinder, there are five chances out of six that that bullet won't come up.”

“That's true. Let's see if now is one of those times.” He puts the bullet in the chamber and spins it. “I think I got you on this one. No, seriously, I feel good about this. Go on. Do you feel it? This is it. Am I right? I think I have you. Come on, take the position. Yeah. This is the one. You ready to say goodbye? Say it. Say goodbye. Say it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Pull the fucking trigger.”

You pull the trigger. Blank.

“No players eliminated.”

“You think they're enjoying this as much as you are?”

“Maybe, probably more. You know, you last as long as you say you will, you're gonna make someone a lot of money.”

“And that's why they're doing this?”

“Sure, I told you, gamblers will bet on anything. This is the best game in town.”

“So they're putting money down on me right now?”

“Even as we speak, they're betting against you. Some are betting for you. They're betting to see how many rounds this will go on, whether we'll have a winner or not.”

“Whether what?”

“Sure, maybe one of these times, all the players are eliminated. It's possible.”

“But the odds of that happening...”

“Are 50/50, either it happens or it doesn't.”

“But that's not how odds work.”

“It's time.” He spins the chamber and sets the gun back on the table. “Pick it up.”

You hold the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank. You do it again. And again. And again. And again. You hold the gun to your head and pull the trigger 12 times. All blanks. You set the gun down again. The Recruiter takes the bullet out of the chamber and sets the gun off to the side.

“No players were eliminated. You know what I think? I think your child would be better off with no money and you dead than rich with a crazy bitch like you.”

“No.”

“No?”

“They need me. They need to know what love really is. They need to know what it looks like. They need someone to help them understand that they deserves it.”

“And that someone is you? You just figured this out?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, then this wasn't a total waste.”

“Guess not.”

“You know what I'm gonna do after this?”

“Drown a puppy?”

“I think I'll go find your child. That one got you, didn't it?”

“Tell me, how have you made it this far without someone killing you?”

“Just my luck, I guess. Oh. There's been a change of plans. Seems the longevity of the current players has made the people upstairs change the rules around.” He adds a second bullet. “Now what do your odds look like?”

“It's not fair.”

“All the other players have the exact same challenge.”

“No one said...”

“Said what? You didn't practice for this? I'll be sure to tell your kid you said hi.” He puts the two bullets in the chamber and spins it. “Pick it up. Come on. You know the drill.”

You hold the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank.

“How many are left?”

“How many what?”

“Players. Someone has to have been eliminated.”

“Oh, yeah, that. One player was eliminated...as far as you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, as far as you know, it's just you and one other player.”

“I don't understand.”

“Then let me explain it to you. All that you know about this game is what I've been telling you, right? So, what if I told you I've been making up these last couple of rounds? What if I told you you've already won? Kinda funny if you think about it. What if you're the only one playing the game?”

“That wouldn't work. How would you bet on that?”

“Maybe the bet's not about who wins the game. Maybe you're the bet and it's simply how many times you'll keep pulling that trigger until you lose. Think about it. How would you know?” He suddenly laughs. “I'm kidding, yeah, of course. One of the other players really was eliminated. That leaves you and one more. And it's that time again.”

“So there really is another player?”

“I was just joking. Jeez, you got to learn how to lighten up. If the player could take their position please?”

“There really is another player?”

“Yes,” he says, highly annoyed.

“Prove it.”

“Hold on a sec. Assume the position!” He orders you.

“Prove that there's another player.”

“That's not how this game works. You got to trust me.”

You put the gun to your head.

“Ready.”

After staring at The Recruiter for a long moment, you remove the gun from your head, an idea coming to you.

“Pull. The. Trigger.”

You stare at him.

“Do it!”

You put the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank.

“I've been instructed that if you fail to comply again, you forfeit the game.”

You laugh. “Forfeit?”

He pulls up his shirt, showing the other gun tucked in his pants. “Then I'm instructed to shoot you.”

“Your bosses, money is just their excuse for playing. They don't really care about winning. They just want to see blood.”

“Now you're catching on. And they don't care whose it is. Oh. And we're upping the ante again.”

He adds a bullet.

“You forgot to say whether a player was eliminated.”

“Did I? What if I told you there wasn't really a game? What if I told you this whole thing was just made up? What if I told you it's been you and me this whole time?” He asks as he loads the bullets into the chamber.

“You're a liar.”

“Well, I guess we'll find out.” He spins the chamber. “It's time. Position. Please. Mm-hm. You got it.”

You grab the gun but don’t put it to your head. “Let me ask you this. What if there is just one bet? What if it's a 50/50 one?”

“That wouldn't make any sense.” He taps his temple to signal you to sssume the position.

You put the gun to your head. You don’t pull the trigger. “You know what? I think I have already won.” You point the gun at him. “I think the bet now is simply who walks out of this room.”

“That's not how this game is played.”

“You said it yourself, real gamblers will make odds on anything.”

“What if I told you that gun doesn't have any bullets?”

“I watched you.”

“Dummies, blanks. The real bet was to see how long you'd play before you quit.”

“Liar.”

“Okay. Okay, you're right. It wasn't fair, so just put the gun down, and we'll talk about changing the rules.”

“You're gonna change the rules?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Guys like you don't get to make the rules.” You pull back the hammer and stand up. “Do you know what your mistake was? You thought that the show was all about me, but you forgot that there are two animals in this cage.” You notice him sliding his hand back towards his gun. “You won't get it out before I pull the trigger.”

“If that chamber's empty, I got you.”

“I thought they were blanks.”

“You don't have the guts.”

You shoot. Blank. He flips the table up and makes a run for the door, failing to notice his gun has fallen out of his pocket as you keep shooting at him, firing off three live shots and then nothing but gun clicks. The door slides open to reveal a guard. You grab The Recruiter’s discarded gun off the ground and shoot at the the guards, killing some of them. You then play dead behind the upturned table. They let their guard down and when they get close, you shoot them dead too. The Recruiter comes from behind and tackles you to the ground and tries to strangle you to death. But you manage to get the upper hand.

Even though he could, he’s too proud to beg for your help as he lays on the ground, convulsing, dying. He just stares at you as he chokes on his own blood until he dies with his eyes wide open. A smile still on his face.

You pull his earpiece out of his ear and put it in your own, listening for the person on the other end to say something. And then you hear those two words:

“You win.”

5. What if The Recruiter faked his death like how Oh Il-nam did in season 1? He died with his eyes wide open and none of the other characters checked his pulse. This man is so unhinged and was always five steps ahead of the other characters, always knowing they were watching him and looking for him. He eluded them for two years. He got the jump on them and subdued two men with just his briefcase. So what if he had planned for every possible outcome during the Russian Roulette game too and had piping lined underneath his suit to spurt out fake blood at the right time and the bullet was a dummy or a blank? Squid game men love to fake their deaths. Gi-hun winning the Russian Roulette game and not giving into his mind games throws him into abject shock. That's the second time he loses his smug smile. Gi-hun throwing his words back in his face only makes it worse, to the point he's driven to suicide rather than admit Gi-hun is right. But what if his “suicide” was just a part of a contingency plan so he could lie low for a while and then eventually go back to recruiting players once Gi-hun wasn’t a problem anymore and it was deemed by the people he worked for that it was safe to do so?

After his fake death, he’s left alone in the room when the main characters leave. He gets up from the chair he was playing dead in, cleans himself up by changing his clothes and washing away the blood on his skin, and goes home to you, his wife, as if nothing happened. You’re kept in the dark about what he really does. (Or you’re in on it and help him get the bloodstains out of his clothes, though you work behind the scenes and use your computer and hacking skills to find potential players and learn everything about them. He has to get his information from somewhere, after all. But you don’t go “out into the field” so to speak like he does.) If you don’t know the truth, he explains that he’s been granted extended vacation time from his work and suggests a holiday outside of South Korea. What about Thailand? Or Italy might be nice. Anywhere you want to go, just say the word. He has plenty of money to sustain the both of you during said vacation so don’t worry if you can’t get the time off. You didn’t really like your job anyway, right? Or maybe you’re pregnant so you take advantage of maternity and paternity leave early. Either way, a months or years long holiday would sound heavenly, wouldn’t it? If you do know the truth, you’re prepared the second he gives you a call on your restricted phone and says just a few words. You’ve been prepared for this day for years.

6. A scenario very much like the Korean thriller movie “Addicted”. You’re the long time girlfriend of The Recruiter’s brother (Of course you know The Recruiter’s actual name but for simplicity’s sake, I’ll just call him The Recruiter so authors can choose whatever name they want to give him.) and get married. While he and his brother are very different as people, and the only thing they really have in common is the parents they share, they are very close despite having very different interests and personalities. You wonder if the only reason they get along so well is because of you since you’re the common link between them. The Recruiter decides to take part in a car race for money even though his brother, who is concerned for his safety, asks him not to do that particular race. With a heavy heart, your husband plans on attending the car race to support his brother. Running late, he has to hail a taxi. The speeding taxi crashes into a lorry, and your husband is seriously injured. At the same time as the taxi crashes, The Recruiter’s car overturns in the middle of the race and he is also badly injured. Both The Recruiter and your husband fall into comas.

A year later, The Recruiter wakes up but is unable to walk properly, due in part to his physical injuries. He is brought home by you, where you attempt to take care of him while he recovers. Over time, you realize that The Recruiter is behaving identically to your husband. He tries to convince you that he feels like he is actually his brother, your husband, unable to explain why. He agrees to go for a hypnosis test and his answers so reflect his brother's character, that the doctor concludes your husband’s spirit has entered his brother (The Recruiter’s) body. You’re devastated by this revelation. You, unable to accept The Recruiter as your husband, tell his girlfriend that you are unable to live with him. She offers to take The Recruiter away and he agrees to go with her for your sake. One rainy day, he appears to you just as your husband had before. You discuss memories together and you finally accept The Recruiter as the "possessed" spirit of your husband. The Recruiter and you then share a slow, emotional night together where you have sex after the tearful revelation. You start to live life together as a happy and loving couple. In time, you become pregnant with The Recruiter’s child. Meanwhile, your real husband is still on life support. The doctor suggests to you that there is no chance of your husband waking up and it may be best if he were allowed to die in peace. You agree, and watch with The Recruiter as your husband is taken off life support.

The Recruiter’s girlfriend returns and tells you that she has accepted the fact that her now ex-boyfriend is no longer himself, and that she can no longer love him. She decides to go abroad to study (she may or may not have been blackmailed or bribed by the Recruiter and the people he works for to keep quiet and get lost or else be shot dead and her body burned and never found). The Recruiter, living as your husband, continues life as normal. Recruiting players for the games and keeping you in the dark about what he does or who he really is. You’re not feeling well while you’re out and about with him, so you decide to go home to get some rest and let him stay as what he’s doing is too important for him to just leave with you. While you’re home, a weird looking package addressed to The Recruiter arrives. You open it and find a necklace which had been given to you by The Recruiter. It went missing one day. You thought you just misplaced it.

You read the accompanying note, from The Recruiter’s ex-girlfriend, saying that she cannot understand his crazy love for you and could never ever hope to be you, no matter how hard he tried to mold her into you. Frantic, you dig through The Recruiter’s workroom and find a number of hidden photos of yourself that were taken by The Recruiter. You realize that he had loved you before you married his brother. You also find a notebook that The Recruiter wrote about loving you and being happy because he is able to watch you and live with you through his brother. You cry sorrowfully. You drive back to The Recruiter. You take him aside and ask him various questions about something innocuous like works of art and comment that some pieces may look good in your home and he should consider bidding on them or buying them outright. You continue to pretend that your husband’s spirit is in The Recruiter’s body despite knowing the truth. The Recruiter scatters his brother’s ashes across the sea. He loved you even before his brother, and had for the entire time you were with him. He faked his leg injury so you’d take care of him for a few weeks before he could pretend it was all healed thanks to you. The Recruiter also confesses that he made use of all of his brother's secrets to "transform" himself into him, to the extent of sacrificing his own identity and behavior. He claims that it was he who died after the accident. He tells his brother that you will forever love him under the identity of your dead husband. He apologizes and asks his brother never to forgive him for his deeds.

7. Hear me out: A consensual non-consent/CNC roleplay fic with The Recruiter. While you’re not a loan shark yourself, you’re part of the team Gi-hun hires to help track down The Recruiter due to being an associate of sorts of theirs and being personally recommended to Gi-hun by them. You’re the only woman and the youngest amongst the many men you’ve worked with the past two or three years. Despite your gender and age, you’ve proven to them and to Gi-hun that you’re experienced and have had great success in finding people that don’t want to be found. You’re highly capable and confident that you can do this and you’re not just in it for the one billion won he promised to whoever finds The Recruiter. You’re with Kim Jeong-rae and Choi Woo-seok when they spot The Recruiter at Jonggak Station. The three of you are told to follow him carefully but avoid making contact and do not approach him. You watch him in Tapgol Park when he gives bread and lottery tickets to homeless people, but he doesn’t approach you, Choi, or Kim. Secretly, while Kim and Choi are shocked at The Recruiter’s behavior and think he’s a total nutcase when he stomps on all the bread after making a short speech to everyone, you think he’s so hot when he’s a little disheveled after all his stomping and combs his fingers through his hair, slicking it back and tucking his tie back into his suit blazer.

Despite Gi-hun’s order to not engage, you get the idea to follow The Recruiter down the alleyway and tell Mr. Kim and Mr. Choi that you might lose him if you wait and should just get him by yourselves. Before they can protest or tell you to wait, you’re running ahead, yelling for The Recruiter to stop. They don’t have time to argue and run after you to help you. When they get close, they witness The Recruiter hit you a couple times, so hard that the force of his hits causes you to stumble backwards and fall to the ground. You’re seemingly knocked out cold when your head makes impact with the hard cement. Despite Mr. Choi having a knife, The Recruiter easily subdues the two men with just his briefcase, knocking them unconscious for real. Once he tells you it’s okay to do so, you open your eyes. He grabs your hand and helps you up. You dust yourself off then help The Recruiter drag and carry Kim Jeong-rae and Choi Woo-seok’s bodies inside to finish setting up the room for Russian Roulette. Together, you stand on the roof of a building and watch Gi-hun from above. When he tells you, you take your place in a chair that’s in the middle so you’ll be in perfect view of both men when they wake up and you’ll have The Recruiter standing directly behind you the entire time, his body pressed against the back of your chair and hovering over you. You nearly moan and rub your thighs together while he fastens your wrists to the armchair and pulls the ropes extra tight. As he ties the gag around your mouth, he gives you a warning to behave or else he’ll make use of your mouth later. But all you can think is, “Mmm. Don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy.” You see the lust swimming in his deep brown irises underneath his faux irritation with you. You know that if he could, he’d fuck you right now. But like you, he’s sticking to the plan and is going to wait to start the game until the real players wake up. On command, you let out a few tears to make your acting all the more believable.

Kim Jeong-rae and Choi Woo-seok wake up and The Recruiter puts on opera music and explains the rules of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One, and Russian Roulette, dramatically illustrating the penalty for the loser when he points the gun to his own head and pulls the trigger. But there’s another twist. They may have noticed you’re tied to your chair a little differently than they’re tied to theirs. That’s because, unlike them, you’re not playing. You’ll be an observer of sorts and won’t need the use of your hands. To their horror, The Recruiter then takes a knife or pair of scissors out of his pocket and violently cuts your clothes off your body. When you try to thrash and pull away from him, he slaps you and orders you to sit still unless you want him to cut your pretty skin. He grips your hair to keep you in place as he grazes the knife or scissors against your cheek, not cutting you, but coming very close. You sob harder and squeal in fear as you comply until you’re left in just your underwear, (because he is the only man allowed to look at your cunt) your shredded clothes in pieces around you. You don’t even have your bra or socks anymore. He explains to Mr. Kim and Mr. Choi that, for every time they tie and have to go again, he will touch you however he wants in front of them, seemingly without your consent. The first time they’ll tie, it’ll be for fifteen seconds. Then thirty. Then forty-five, and so on. And they’ll be forced to watch for the duration. He’ll point the gun and pull the trigger at whoever diverts their eyes before the time is up. He has so many fun toys he could use on you in his briefcase.

Your acting really sells it and adds to their fear and disgust. Whenever they tie, you pretend to cringe and sob every time The Recruiter touches you, letting out muffled screams as you beg him not to. He’d do all sorts of things to you, from fondling and squeezing your breasts, to sticking out his tongue and licking a long path on your skin from your wrist to your shoulder to your neck to your cheek before ending in biting your ear. He’d remove your gag for just a second, not giving you time to cry out before he’s tilting your head back to kiss your mouth, violating your lips with his own and the inside of your mouth with his tongue. He’d kiss you so hard that he’d bite down and your lower lip would bleed. After he’s done kissing you, he’d lick up the blood from your bleeding lip and immediately put the gag back in place. He’d drag the gun down between your breasts and to the inside of your underwear, rubbing it against your mound and teasing the possibility of inserting it inside your cunt, only to actually reach his other hand inside your underwear and finger you instead, using toys on you, etc. You’re such a pretty little actress, aren’t you? So good for him.

The exhibitionism, the humiliation, and Mr. Kim and Mr. Choi’s fear of death makes it all the more exciting for you and The Recruiter, especially when Choi and Mr. Kim beg him to stop, for you to be left alone. Though their pleas are just as muffled as yours. The shame and pity in their eyes as they’re forced to watch what they believe to be you being sexually assaulted by a sadistic stranger almost makes you want to laugh. But all games must end eventually. The time comes when The Recruiter puts five bullets into the chamber, increasing the chances of death to 5 in 6. When Mr. Kim refuses to take a hand away and sacrifices himself to spare Choi Woo-seok, The Recruiter shoots him dead. His blood splatters over the space between your breasts but only a little bit of it lands on The Recruiter’s cheek. As he passes by you, he strokes your hair with one hand, running his fingers through it and then letting it go as he bends down and congratulates a traumatized Choi on his win. He looks over his shoulder at your practically naked form, shivering and twitching with the aftershock of everything he did to you with just his tongue, hands, and toys thus far. He hasn’t even given you his cock yet and already you’re like this. He gloats that while Choi won the game, he’s the real winner who received the grand prize - you. He asks if they can have a talk. The Recruiter asks questions on Gi-hun’s location.

After the interrogation, The Recruiter knocks Choi out again and unties you so he can unbuckle his pants and manhandle you however he wants so he can have sex with you properly. Against the wall, on the table, on the floor, on the couch, it doesn’t matter. He’ll take you wherever and however he wants to take you. Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One and Russian Roulette was just a warmup. But this…this is even more intense. Even more passionate, primal, painful. When he inserts his fingers and/or cock inside you, it always hurts so damn good. He’s demanding, he’s high maintenance, but you always are able to keep up and know exactly what he wants without him even having to say a word. You read his body language so well. He’s the same way with you. He can tell exactly what you want just from the noises you make. Though he loves to hear you use your words and say it. He can be such a tease sometimes. He loves driving you to the precipice but withholding your orgasm from you until he believes you’ve earned it. He planted you within the Loan Sharks’ circle and tasked you with earning their and Gi-hun’s trust by using the information he fed you so you could pretend to be good at finding people. The ploy worked. Good girls deserve rewards and bad girls earn punishments. And while you’ve been bad at times over the past three or more years you’ve known him and have been punished by him accordingly, you were such a good girl for him in the game, so he’ll reward you by fucking you however you want and then giving you amazing aftercare. He hit you rather hard to make the act believable and your skin might be bruising, but you took it so well. He’ll get out the first aid kit and make you feel better in more ways than one. This plan was as much your idea as it was his. God, you’re so fucking brilliant, a perfect match for him in mind and body. He fucking loves you, even if he’s not the kind of man to say it often.

You change into the outfit he picked out and bought for you, including new lingerie to replace the set he half-destroyed. Could be a nice women’s dress suit similar to his. Something expensive but overall inconspicuous. When he goes to confront Gi-hun and play Russian Roulette again, you’re hidden in an alley nearby, waiting behind the wheel in the getaway car for after he either wins the game or fakes his suicide/death. Whether The Recruiter wins, loses, or Gi-hun breaks the rules and tries to shoot him, it doesn’t matter. You’ve planned ahead for every possible outcome, and they all end with the both of you getting away and lying low for a while, continuing your work for the games from behind the scenes. It’s not long before he opens the passenger door and has you drive, opening his briefcase where he has guns at the ready. He gives you the directions throughout the drive and you’re off. You’re like a professional stunt driver at the wheel, having no issues going high speeds, making smooth and fast turns, and weaving in and out of traffic to evade pursuers if you have to. He needs to keep his hands free in case you’re followed and he needs to lean out the window and shoot at anyone.

8. Going off of a previous thought I had now that season 2 revealed In-ho had a wife who died young from acute cirrhosis of the liver, and that he took bribes when he was a dirty cop because of her condition: What if In-ho went so far to save you from your illness that it turned into a Nora and Mr. Freeze situation? You were just a happily married couple but then you started feeling unwell. You didn’t think much of it at first, thinking your symptoms were from something else like the flu or food poisoning. It possibly got so bad that you fainted and hit your head on the way down. When he got home from work, your place was filled with smoke but no fire as the smoke alarms went off. Covering his mouth and nose, he was quick to open windows to let the smoke out. He found you unconscious in the kitchen, your hair matted by the pool of blood forming on the floor from your head wound. He’d never been so terrified until that moment. As much as he wanted to rush to you and make sure you weren’t dead, he had to secure the house first. He had to make sure you weren’t attacked and that, if you were, the attacker wasn’t still inside, hiding somewhere. With his gun pointed, he searched every room. All clear and nothing appeared to be stolen or out of place. He didn’t care about the burned dinner you were in the middle of making as he rushed you to the hospital. He was there with you, holding your hand during every doctor appointment, every test. And that was when you got the news. When he has a heart to heart with Gi-hun while undercover as Oh Young-il/Player 001, he tells him the truth. Not the whole truth, but some of it: That you’re very sick with acute cirrhosis and need a liver transplant (or any other disease and treatment of your choosing). But when you were going through the tests, you found out you were pregnant. The doctor suggested a termination, but you wouldn’t listen. You said you’d give birth even if it killed you. You’re stubborn. Your husband has never been able to change your mind about anything. You were struggling to find a donor and your condition was getting worse.

“Breathe. I'm right here. Look at me. Where's the formoterol?” He kneeled down next to you, wrapping his arm around you as you coughed violently (possibly coughing up blood) and struggled to inhale and exhale properly. He found the bottle and gave you the pill, helping you to drink by tipping the glass of water to your lips. The attack gradually subsided.

“That was the worst one yet.”

“That was the last pill. Why didn't you tell me?”

“I'm sorry. I forgot. There's so many. There's so many,” you cried.

“If you have another attack and you don't have this medication, you could die. You can't let this happen again.”

“Why? Does it matter?”

“It matters. I'll be back. I need to get this refilled.”

He went to the pharmacy, leaving you alone in your house.

“Next.”

“I need to get this refilled.”

“Do you have the prescription?”

“I have the bottle.”

“That's not the same thing, is it?”

“Please, I just need it refilled.”

“The original prescription doesn't have a refill order. If it doesn't have a refill order, I can't refill it.”

“This medication is for my wife. She's sick. She's in pain.”

“Everyone that comes in here is sick or in pain. Have your doctor write a new prescription. Then I can refill it.”

“Just give me the medication.”

“No.”

“You son of a bitch!” In-ho lunged at the man, trying to strangle him. He was pulled off and away by two other workers.

“Get out! Get him out of here! Get out of here before I call the cops, you kook!”

Call the cops? He was a fucking cop.

“You shouldn't have done that. I'll be back,” he warned, pointing a finger as he left.

You were admitted to the hospital though you could barely afford it and your husband visited every day until his visits suddenly stopped. You were worried but he never returned your phone calls. For an entire week, you didn’t hear from him. He borrowed as much money as he could, but it still wasn’t enough. He was desperate, then one of his oldest vendors heard about the situation and offered to help. So he borrowed money from them. But people saw it as a bribe and he got fired from his job. He had devoted his entire youth to it. The games were his last hope. He really needed that money even if it was blood money. He needed that money to save you and your child. That all happened in 2015 during the 28th annual squid games.

When he came back after he won a week later, he was all in black, including gloves and a mask that covered his entire face and changed his voice (not his Front Man outfit, but something similar). He was carrying a Heckler & Koch MP5A3 sub-machine gun and his Smith & Wesson Model 19 revolver from back when he was a cop. Though he’d gone against the protocol of leaving one chamber empty and another filled with a blank. He had five live bullets loaded in the chamber and ready to fire as he pointed it at the worker that denied him before.

“Formoterol. Now.” He demanded. Upon entering the pharmacy, he shot the only other worker and person in the building not to kill but to incapacitate him so he couldn’t call for help.

“Okay. Okay. Take it all. Please, don't kill me. Please. I’ll-I'll do anything you want.” The worker begged, holding his hands up. He wasn’t so smug now, was he?

In-ho took all of the medication you needed. “Thank you. You and your friend here...are helping to save my wife.”

He shot both men dead and left.

To make sure nobody would make a missing persons report or come looking for you when he inevitably kidnapped you from the hospital you were staying in and brought you to the island, he faked your death by doing something crazy like impersonating a doctor and drugging you with something that wouldn’t kill you, but make your heart rate so slow that it caused a Code Blue and set off the alarms, making it look like you were flatlining. He even forged legal documents making it look like you consented to a “Do Not Resuscitate” order so that medical staff wouldn’t accidentally kill you by shocking you or break your ribs from performing chest compressions. Once they disabled all the alarms and unhooked you from the IVs and monitors that were attached to your skin and moved you to the morgue, he kidnapped you and replaced your unconscious body with an unclaimed female corpse that was unrecognizable in the face and teeth but looked enough like you to pass by planting stuff on it so his family would false identify it as you after DNA tests matched with you. After whisking you away to the island to get you the treatments you needed to overcome your sickness, whenever you were awake, he smoothly lied to you to leave you oblivious and in the dark about where you really were and what was really going on, taking advantage of your confusion and disorientation and other side effects from your condition to gaslight you.

“In-ho...?”

“I'm here, darling. I brought you home,” he said, holding your hand.

The room you were in didn’t look familiar. It didn’t look like home. It looked more like a luxurious hotel room.

“I'm so tired.”

“I know. It'll all be over soon.”

“In-ho... I want you to let me go. Let me die,” you begged, cupping his face in your hands.

“Honey, you don't mean that. We can do this. A donor has been found. The surgery will work. I'll be there when you wake up. I'll be there.”

“Okay.” You nodded your head and he kissed you.

Just as you were about to be put under, you stopped him and who you assumed to be doctors standing nearby (though they were dressed rather strangely) from injecting you with the sedative or putting the mask with knockout gas over your nose and mouth by grabbing his hand. “In-ho, wait. My necklace. The one that you gave me on our first anniversary. I left it on the nightstand in my hospital room when I had to go in for scans. Did you get it for me? Please, dear, tell me you did.”

He hesitated, unsure if you were just stalling for the sake of stalling or not. He brought it with him. Of course he did. “I got it. I've got it,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket to show you.

“Can you put it on me? Please, honey. I know it’s silly, but it’d make me feel…less afraid.”

He complied with your wish, bending over you to put it around your neck, clasping it into place. You fiddled with it, the familiarity of the metal bringing you comfort under your fingers. Now that he was close enough, you put your other hand on his cheek, rubbing it as you ran your fingers through his hair. “In-ho. I love you. If I don’t make it off the table… Please don't blame yourself.”

“You’ll make it. I’ll see you soon.” He reassured you, giving you one last kiss. “I love you,” was one of the last things you heard. A few minutes later, you were unconscious.

It’d take months, possibly even years to even begin to get you back to where you were, though you’ve shown signs of improvement after undergoing treatment. You were often unconscious from the surgeries and operations during your pregnancy and he’d tell himself he wasn’t gaslighting you out of malice, but out of love. The less you knew, the safer you’d be. He’d go as far to make sure you didn’t find out that he keeps hidden cameras around his quarters and a tracker hidden in either a piece of jewelry he knows you always wear or possibly under your skin even, claiming it was part of your surgeries so you wouldn’t question the stitches or the healing scar. You don’t feel it so you don’t know it’s there. You spent most of your pregnancy on bedrest. He couldn’t drug or sedate you too much because of the risk to the baby’s health, but even when you were awake, he’d do his damnedest to keep you safe, healthy, and comfortable even while lying to you or expertly deflecting your questions. Where’s your cell phone? Deflect. Why can’t this Apple computer in his office connect to the internet? Deflect. When can you go home? Deflect. Where are you? Deflect. Even though the circumstances of your new living situation were unclear and left you unsettled, you were excited to give birth despite the somewhat shady doctors your husband brought to care for you. If he ever detected you trying to leave his quarters, an alarm beeped just loud enough for him to hear it, signaling to him to put his quarters on complete lockdown with a push of a button so you couldn’t wander off and he’d rush to check on you. He’d either sedate you again if he absolutely had to out of fear your lashing out at him would be a danger to yourself or the baby, or he’d otherwise distract or dissuade you from asking too many questions or wandering too far. If you asked questions, he’d tell you to think of it as a dream, that it isn’t a bad dream for you anyway since you’ll have your baby soon. When the time came for you to give birth, your husband was there with doctors that were hired for their discretion (or he’d just kill them afterwards) and you gave birth to a healthy baby and survived, though the birth was difficult and took a great toll on your body. That was in 2015 or 2016.

You thought you’d be able to go home eventually, but in reality, you’re still practically a prisoner on an unknown island. During the first couple years, you took care of your baby while your husband oversaw vulnerable people being driven to kill others or themselves out of desperation for blood money for the entertainment of bored rich people in sadistic death games. Whenever it was lights out for the players, he came back and gave you your much needed break, taking his turn to care for your baby while you rested. You’re not sure why you’re still here as you’re feeling much better, but your husband and doctors keep saying your condition isn’t stable yet, you’re not in the clear, a few more tests and treatments. It’s always something. He won’t let you leave. You can’t leave this place without his permission.

And even worse, when your child reached a certain age, maybe around three or four (old enough to walk and talk), he took them away from you, sent them to be raised and cared for by people he knew he could trust until the time was right for you to take them back. He couldn’t let your child grow up in this place and become old enough to have awareness of their surroundings or start asking questions. When children reach a certain age, they get curious. Too curious. He couldn’t risk that. And this is no place for a child anyway. They need proper socialization and a healthy environment to grow and learn. When you found out what he’d done, you yelled at him, screamed at him, hit him repeatedly. He took it all. Then you ignored him, gave him the silent treatment. He took that too. He’d understand if you never forgive him but he needs you to understand that he does all of this because he loves and cares about you and your child - his family - more than he does a bunch of strangers. He’ll kill however many he needs to if it means you both get to live. And that’s why when Thanos is talking shit while he’s undercover in the games, telling him to stop running his mouth and take care of his own damn kids, to save the lecture for his own children, he snaps and beats the shit out of him, nearly choking him to death in the middle of the dorms. But, unbeknownst to him, after your child was taken away from you, you became more proactive in discovering the truth and getting off this damn island. You weren’t just gonna lie down and blindly love and trust your husband anymore. You can play dual roles and keep secrets as well as he can. You know your husband would never kill you. He’s done everything to save you. And even if he does kill you for going behind his back, you’re not afraid of dying. Your resolve is strong, unwavering. You’ll either get off this damn island and get your child back or die trying, with or without your husband. It’ll be up to him what he wants to do, if he comes with you or not. You just have to bide your time and play your cards right.

9. You’re a player and while In-ho is undercover as player 001/Oh Young-il, you and he form some kind of connection and stick together during the games. You likely have a considerate age gap between you. He’s probably at least fifteen years older than you but despite that, you’re hot for each other. You have been ever since surviving the six legged relay race. You’re so thankful he and his team took pity on you and let you join and bonded with him in the dorms afterwards. He sticks by you during the Mingle game and saves your life by grabbing your wrist and running with you, keeping you close for every round so you’re always in a room with him, no matter how many people are needed. On the last round, he kills a man in ten seconds before your very eyes after he refuses to leave. After the game, he comes to you during lights out and asks if you want to go with him somewhere away from everybody else to have some “much needed alone time together”. You know, despite his use of euphemism or polite language, that he’s inviting you to have sex to blow off some steam and come down from the high that the combined stress of playing the latest game and left over adrenaline gave you.

You follow his lead when he knocks on the door and asks a guard to use the bathroom. Together you ditch the guard (unbeknownst to you, he used his authority as the Front Man and subtly signaled the guard to go away.) and he takes you back to the room where the Mingle game was played, now spotless from clean up. No blood or bodies anywhere. The lights are mostly off and the few that are on are low, making the lighting in the room look dark purple, almost black, with hints of red. He tells you to pick any door of your choosing. You pick a door that’s your favorite color and he grabs you by the hand or lifts you up to carry you bridal style or over his shoulder into the room, closing the door behind you. You barely pay attention to the sound of the lock clicking into place as In-ho/Young-il is instantly on you, his hands and mouth all over your body, touching and feeling everywhere he can before you even begin to take your clothes off. That comes soon enough as, finally alone, you have sex on the floor in the colored room, the light above reflecting off the painted walls and creating makeshift “mood lighting” as you meet his hot kisses and touches with equal fervor. The potential danger of being caught by the pink guards only further turns you on. Unbeknownst to you, there’s no danger at all since you’re having sex with the Front Man and Host of the games. You’d hate to admit it, but you thought he was so sexy when he was strangling that man to death. It almost turned you on when he didn’t break eye contact with you and you heard the player’s neck snap. While he’s thrusting in and out of you, you beg him to choke you. He asks if you’re sure, and you confirm your consent. He tells you to tap his shoulder or scratch down his back three times if you want him to let go. While he fucks you, he chokes you so hard that your vision begins to blur and you see stars as you struggle to breathe. He doesn’t apply enough pressure to kill you or knock you out, but it’s enough to make your orgasm that much sweeter of a high.

10. While In-ho is undercover as player 001/Oh Young-il, he becomes obsessed with you because you’re visibly pregnant and/or have a resemblance to his deceased wife somehow. Even if it’s just one thing like your smile, eyes, or personality. After his wife got sick and both she and their unborn child died, he was devastated at the loss of his family, believing he went through the games and won, but it was all for nothing as he got out only to find his family was already dead. He felt guilty for not spending time with his wife in the hospital and being there for her before she died. (“I should go and be with my wife at the hospital,” he said to Gi-hun.) He never really forgave himself for just abandoning her without a word. And with nothing to go back to in the outside world - no wife, no child, no job - he dedicated himself to the games as the Front Man. That’s why he snapped and beat the shit out of Thanos and nearly choked him to death after his insensitive comments about “save the lecture for your own damn kids”. He thought he lost his beloved wife and his baby forever, but seeing you makes him believe he can have both a wife and a child again.

He becomes immensely protective of you, so much so that it’s unnerving to the other players at times, possibly even you, but nobody would dare to say a thing to his face. He’s one of the most formidable players in the game. He kills several players in the games personally while telling you sweet and caring things when you’re given moments of respite during the games and when you’re back in the dorms after the games are over.

“When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You’ve been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out.”

He gives you his milk or shares his food with you, insisting on you taking it since you’re eating for two and need it more than he does. He lets you use his pillow or blanket during lights out. He’s always asking if you’re all right and cracking jokes to keep the mood light and make you smile despite the circumstances. He keeps you stuck to him during every game like velcro. During the six-legged race? Your arm is interlocked with his. During the Mingle game? He’s holding onto your arm or wrist so tightly when you run to gather enough players and get to a colored door in time that there’s no chance of other frantic players pushing you to the ground or separating you from him. When you need to go to the bathroom outside of hours and sneak out of bed, he’s awake and asks what you’re doing. When you sheepishly admit you need the bathroom, he’s there with you at the door demanding for you to be let out if the guards tell you no at first. Despite being a man, he’s in the women’s bathroom with you. You’re the only two people awake and using the bathroom, so who cares if he’s a man in the women’s bathroom? The guards definitely don’t care. (Because he’s their boss, but you don’t know that.) He’s leaning against the stall directly across from the one you go into or the sink and keeps you company, asking if you’re sick and if you need him to hold your hair back for you if you’re feeling nauseous when he notices you’ve been in there for a long time. If he hears you crying, he’s knocking on the stall before opening it and kneeling in front of you, immediately fretting over you, asking if it’s the baby and if you’re in any pain, are you in labor, is the baby coming? Then he’s holding you and comforting you when you admit you’re afraid. Same for if you have an emotional breakdown over not being allowed to go home after the vote doesn’t go the way you want it to. He’s there to hold you, stroke your hair and stomach (with your permission of course) and tell you you’re going to make it out of this and both you and your baby will be fine. You swear sometimes you hear him say “our” baby, or that he’s calling you pet names like darling, honey, and sweetheart, but he gaslights you and tells you that you must’ve misheard him whenever you call it out and ask him about it.

When he goes with the men to find the control room, you stay behind. While you’re not sure if you love him, you have grown to care for him and see him as a dear friend at least and are worried for him. After the game is over and he goes back to being the Front Man, the pink guards storm into the dorms, firing off two warning shots and ordering everyone to get down on the floor. The sight of the pink guards rushing forwards with their guns pointed and no sign of Young-il or any of the other players makes you fear for the worst. Curled up on your side on the floor, you panic when your water breaks at the exact moment you believe Young-il is dead. Other players might think you’ve peed your pants from fear, but you can feel the contractions already starting. Unbeknownst to you, the Front Man sees your water break on the cameras from the control room, the small puddle staining your sweatpants wet and forming on the floor under you as the women nearby try to comfort you. He orders some of the guards in the control room to escort you out of the dorm room and to his private quarters while the other pink guards are busy defusing the situation. He emphasizes to them to be gentle with you, meaning don’t walk too fast, make sure you don’t fall, and keep their guns pointed away from you at all times. You’re terrified when three or four pink guards approach you and two of them slowly lift you up by your arms and force you to follow them out of the dorms the second you get back on your feet. You’re the only player singled out and escorted away from the others. Your friends are yelling your name, asking the guards where they’re taking you, but they receive no answer. Once you’re in the hallways of many colorful stairs, they blindfold you so you can’t know where you’re going, making you more scared. Your arm is held the whole way to wherever it is you’re going. They don’t tell you anything or answer your questions. They only tell you when there are steps in front of you so you don’t trip and fall on them. But you think they’re holding onto you so you can’t run. You think for sure you’re going to be killed and your baby will be cut out of your dead body and sold to a black market along with your organs or something.

But when the blindfold is removed, you find yourself lying down on a plush bed in a very nice, almost luxurious room with the Front Man and who you think is a doctor of sorts. The Front Man orders the doctor to help you by giving you everything you need for a safe and healthy delivery. But while you’re given a clean and plain men’s t-shirt so you can change out of your ruined track suit, you’re unnerved that the Front Man won’t leave. He’s considerate enough to turn his back or let you change in his bathroom and doesn’t turn back around until you’re back in his bed with your lower half covered with the blankets and the men’s shirt, which is so big and long on you it’s like a nightgown almost. He stands either on your left or right side near your head so he can’t see between your legs. While a part of you is relieved you have that semblance of privacy, he just stands there, watching over you. And you can’t read his face since it’s covered by his black mask. And you can’t tell much emotion from his voice either. It unnerves you.

But the terror becomes confusion when he eventually asks if you need to hold his hand after watching you struggle through a few contractions despite the epidural you were given. What? He repeats the question. When you shakily say yes, he removes his black leather gloves to hold your hand in both of his, letting you squeeze as tightly as you can when the contractions are at their worst. Your strength is nothing compared to his so he barely feels it. His skin is so warm. This bed is warm too. Much warmer than the cot you were sleeping in. You hate to admit that it feels nice. He puts on some jazz music to help you relax. He tells you not to think and to just focus on the music, breathe, and push whenever the doctor tells you to. After who knows how many hours, you give one last push and hear a baby crying. Your baby. After the doctor cleans them up and does what needs to be done for aftercare for you including any stitches or disposing of the placenta, etc., the Front Man orders him to leave. Your baby is wrapped in a soft towel or sheet as a makeshift blanket and resting on your chest. For a moment, you’re too in awe of them to care about the Front Man or what’s happening around you.

But then you hear a soft click as he takes his mask off and reveals himself not as player 001, Oh Young-il - but Hwang In-ho, Captain and Host of the squid games following his predecessor’s death and, even more alarming, your husband and the father of your child. You can’t believe it. He joined Gi-hun's assault on the staff, dispatching several guards personally. He killed two players to effectively fake his death to resume his place amongst the staff. When you’re horrified and exclaim that all those players who went with him are dead because of him, he is quick to correct you that no, they’re all dead because of Gi-hun. Even worse for you, if the real father of your child is still alive, whether or not you have a relationship with him, he won’t be alive for much longer. Even if he’s in the outside world and not a part of the games, In-ho will still find a way to kill him discreetly and dispose of the body so he can have you and your child for himself. He effectively kidnaps you and keeps you and your baby captive in his quarters because he’s all kinds of fucked up after his wife and unborn child’s deaths. You thought the games made him so relentless, that the games changed him. What you don’t know is that this relentless drive to get what he wants was apparent even before becoming the Front Man, as there were many self-help books on achieving one's desires in his old apartment.

If you’re not already pregnant when he meets you, he’d be determined to impregnate you and would go out of his way to seduce you through emotional and mental manipulation or bribes during downtime between the games. Even worse for you if it works and you sleep with him in a moment of clouded judgment due to your hormones and/or fragile mental and emotional state from the high stress of your near death experiences. Either in your bunk, a bathroom stall, the stairs, or inside one of the colored doors from the Mingle game. Whether or not you’re already pregnant, once you have sex with him, your fate is pretty much sealed. He’d be even more protective and possessive of you, as your consenting to have sex with him would affirm for him the delusion that you love him back and accept him as your husband and father of your child, whether or not he actually is the child’s father biologically.

Either way, it’d be like a Basement Wife trope but he keeps going back and forth between sweet and doting and cold and ruthless personalities so it’s like you’re dealing with a Jekyll and Hyde type situation while prisoner. He’d never hurt you, especially not while you’re in such a fragile condition. He doesn’t want to chain you to the bed or sedate you as it can’t be good for you or the baby, but he will if you persist in misbehaving and lashing out. Stress isn’t good for you or the baby. He has no fear about you harming him, he can easily overpower you without hurting you, but he won’t let you harm yourself or your baby in any way. He might strap a monitor on your wrist that you can’t take off because it has a very special lock only he has the key to. Kind of like a house arrest ankle monitor. But this monitor allows him to monitor your health, whereabouts, and call you if he’s away for any reason - like an Apple Watch. Either that or he’d implant a tracking chip under your skin somewhere on your body while you’re passed out from being sedated. If you wake up, he knows. If you get out of bed to get a glass of water, use the bathroom, take a shower, or otherwise move around his quarters, he knows. If you so much as get a goddamn paper cut from reading a book, he knows. He won’t let anything happen to you or your child. You should’ve known something was wrong with him when he strangled a man to death and broke his neck in front of you during the Mingle game just so you and he could be the only two people in the room needed to pass. He looked at you and you saw no remorse or horror in his eyes. Only pride at protecting you.

11. You’re pregnant during the games and go into labor at an inopportune moment, possibly during the games or during the “special game” of the lights out free for all when everybody was murdering each other. If it’s the special game, he’d hide under the bed on the bottom level with you and his “friends”, his arms wrapped around you and his body almost on top of yours like a human shield. His hand would clamp over your mouth to keep you quiet if you cried out from seeing a player get murdered right in front of your eyes. You’d cry out again and that’s when you’d both feel wetness coming from your sweatpants and you both know it’s not pee. However it happens, In-ho/Young-il is so fiercely protective of you, having a soft spot for you ever since you revealed you were pregnant when you approached him and his team for the six-legged race and since then giving you special treatment that you thought was just him being nice, like giving you extra food and milk or letting you use his pillow and blanket so you’d be more comfortable during lights out.

When pink guards burst in and the players enact their plan to steal the guards’ guns and infiltrate the control room to capture the Front Man, In-ho makes sure you stay down and out of the rain of fire as he shoots many pink guards dead. When enough guards are dead and the others have retreated, he gets ready to head out with Gi-hun and his team. He waits until everyone else in line is ahead of him before he helps you up and takes you out of the room with him, telling you that you can’t stay in the dorms and he knows a place where you’ll be safe to deliver your baby. While the others are being led by the pink guard they took hostage and aren’t looking at him and you at the very back of the line, he takes you down a different hallway. You’re confused as it appears to be a dead end. He looks up towards a camera and nods. You don’t have time to react or understand what’s happening when the wall behind you opens up and a couple of pink guards blindfold you and grab hold of you from behind, pulling you away as you scream Young-il’s name for help. The others are too far away and can’t hear you over the sounds of their own yelling and all the gunfire. The last thing you hear is gunfire and Young-il’s voice telling you to trust him and that you’re going to be fine before the wall slides shut again, cutting you off from him and everyone else. You have no choice but to go wherever the guards are leading you and hope you and your baby will be okay along with Young-il. That’s why when after In-ho shoots players 047 and 015 in the back, he tells the control room to start wrapping things up. The sooner Gi-hun’s failed attempt at playing the hero ends, the sooner he can drop the facade of being Young-il and be at your side while you give birth in his private quarters.

In-ho arranges for you to be exempt from the game so you can be taken away and brought to a medical bay or his personal quarters quietly without the other players putting up too much of a fuss since you can’t compete while in labor. It wouldn’t be fair and the games are all about fairness, or so he likes to preach. (Just like how he exempted Mi-nyeo from the marbles game when nobody wanted to pair up with her.) Could be part of my previous ideas of you being pregnant or could be its own separate thing.

12. You’re his wife and you’re very sick with acute cirrhosis and need a liver transplant. (Or any other disease and treatment of your choosing.) But when you’re going through the tests, you find out you’re pregnant.

"What-what are you saying?" In-ho gasps out as panic and wishful thinking begin to battle in his mind.

You brush your hand against his and smile with teary eyes. "The doctor is saying I'm pregnant, In-ho. We're going to have a baby."

You’re happy about this. He can’t believe it. Under different circumstances, sure. He could understand you being happy then. But now? With you so sick? Being pregnant now is far too dangerous. Even the doctor suggests a termination, but you won’t listen. You tell your husband you’ll give birth even if it kills you. You’re stubborn. Your husband has never been able to change your mind about anything. But in the following weeks, you’re struggling to find a donor and your condition is getting worse. He borrows as much money as he can, but it still isn’t enough. Then one of his oldest vendors hears about the situation and offers to help. So he borrows money from them. But people see it as a bribe and he gets fired from his job. He had devoted his entire youth to it. He’s desperate. Desperate enough to do something terrible. An irrevocable betrayal.

The first scare is...relatively simple, in retrospect. That night, In-ho comes home to you, perfect and lovely, preparing a meal meant to be shared. He doesn’t have much time to stay before he has to leave for “work” once more, but just seeing you in your shared dingy little kitchen creating something with him in mind makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. It’s a wonderfully simple moment the two of you spend together, holding hands like lovestruck teenagers across the table while you eat. As he’s preparing to depart, you sit by the window and sip at a glass of your favorite non-alcoholic beverage, illuminated by the lights of the city. In-ho is certain he's never seen you more beautiful. You take another sip of your drink before a strange expression crosses your features. It’s mostly an unreadable expression, but there’s the undercurrent of something...sad. It’s something In-ho has never really seen before, and it makes the first tendrils of anxiety curl in his stomach.

"Darling? Is something wrong?" he asks, walking over to where you sit.

"No, no, not at all," you assure him. When you look up at him, the twinge of sadness is already gone. "I just had...a strange thought, that's all. I'm being silly." You reach over and place your hand on his cheek. He can’t help but nuzzle into the simple touch and press a kiss to your soft palm. "Go," you say comfortingly. "Work hard, do good."

In-ho manages a smile and places his hand over yours for a lingering moment before pulling away. "I’ll see you soon, my love."

The two of you share a smile before he turns to go. He’s halfway to the door when he hears your voice again. And what you say makes his blood run cold. To you, it’s something so innocent, so innocuous. But In-ho almost drops what he’s holding. Just from that one sentence, he can tell you’re worsening. He scrambles to remember when your last injection was, and his mind is already cataloguing the work he will need to do to prepare your next one. He curses himself internally for letting it go so long, for putting you in this position. You need your medicine and he’s going to get it for you.

In-ho almost forgets about that incident by the time something else happens.

You place his hand over your stomach, encouraging him to splay his fingers out as if you’re expecting something to happen from his touch. "Do you feel anything? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Not at all." He tilts his head at you with confusion and a hint of worry. "Why? Are you feeling all right, is everything okay, darling?"

"No, In-ho, everything is fine!" You still hold his hand over your stomach, gently stroking over the skin on the back of it with your thumb to reassure him. "I feel great. You...didn't notice anything?"

He shakes his head, brows furrowed but relishing in the feel of your soft skin.

"Oh," you say with an edge of...disappointment? "I guess it must be too early, then. I thought I felt movement. Must’ve been phantom kicks.” The smile on your features steadily grows nevertheless.

His throat tightens and he feels the beginnings of hot tears prick behind his eyes, so he has to look away from you. All he can hear is the blood rushing through his ears, your words falling away somewhere behind him. Imagining you pregnant was one thing. It gave him a private thrill, the idea of having a family. With you. It was a beautiful fantasy he kept close to his heart, but he knows now that you’re getting further along, that you won’t survive childbirth even if you do manage to carry to term. In the forefront of his mind, he knows that his fantasies of having a child with you has to remain exactly that. Fantasies. At least until your disease is cured or, if it can’t be, then at the very least, he can get you treatment to pull you out of danger and make you healthy again. At a different time, perhaps, your pregnancy would be a joyous moment. How exuberant he would be were things different, to prepare to bring new life into the world. How beautiful you would look, growing with his child, your body undergoing glorious metamorphosis. His child.

But that is not the reality he can live in while you’re still sick. You’re in danger, a danger he helped perpetuate. The thought makes In-ho shudder almost violently. There is no way to guarantee your survival if you go through with this pregnancy, or even the child's survival if you do bring him or her into this world. The thought of you suffering hours of labor, of dying…only for your baby to die after a few feeble hours of breathing in the NICU… That shakes him down to his core, makes him sick to his stomach. It would be better, merciful even, to not introduce a child to this world at this time. It breaks In-ho’s heart to realize, but worse, he’ll have to break yours, too. He can’t just tell you why there’s so much danger in this joy. He tried that when the doctors first gave you the news and advised you to terminate. You wouldn’t listen to him then and it resulted in an argument that he worried would only add too much stress onto you. He pretended to acquiesce to you, telling you that you’re right and together you’ll find a way, you will. There's always hope. As long as you're alive, there's hope, right? And you told him yes. There's hope. And that was the end of the argument. If he brings it up again, what will you think? You definitely won’t change your mind now. Talking to you will get him nowhere. He knows that. He has to do what he has to do.

It isn’t hard to get the pill. It’s a simple thing, a beige color, unassuming overall. Yet, it seems to have the weight of a brick in In-ho’s coat pocket. Since your pregnancy reveal, you had managed to find books on prenatal care and baby names and were going through them religiously. It’s...painful for In-ho to reconcile your eagerness, your pure unadulterated excitement, with what he’s about to do. It’s necessary, he knows that, and he hopes you will understand that. Eventually. He trudges into the house and sure enough, there you are sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through the pages of one of your new baby name books with a highlighter. When you hear the door close, you smile up at In-ho and go to stand to greet him.

"Stay seated, darling, it's fine," he assures you, walking over and kissing your temple.

You giggle at him. "In-ho, I'm only three months along at most, I won't overexert myself by getting up to welcome my wonderful husband home."

"I know, I know." He plants another kiss on your forehead before he walks into the kitchen. "Hungry, my love?"

"I can make dinner, you've been working so hard lately. All that overtime at the precinct."

"Just tonight, honey. Let me do this for you. For...both of you."

Maybe it’s an underhanded manipulation tactic, but it works. You smile with a dreamy look in your eyes, turning back to your book.

In-ho isn’t much of a cook, but he grabbed a few fresh fruits and vegetables the last time he went out for groceries, purposefully so. With a blender he hasn't touched in years, he’s able to whip up a basic green smoothie. He hesitates when he reaches for the pill in his pocket. In that moment, he hears something from behind him: you begin humming to yourself. When he listens closer, he realizes the song is an easily recognizable lullaby. Nausea swirls in his gut and he has to fight the urge to look back at you. If he looks, he won’t be able to go through with it. He crushes the pill into powder and sprinkles it into the mixture, stirring it with a spoon before he can think about it anymore. It’s blended so much that you won’t feel or taste it at all. You won’t notice. When it’s finished, In-ho pushes a glass towards you and is greeted with a curious smile.

"Trying to keep me strong and healthy for the baby?" you tease. You smile warmly. "Thank you, honey. It looks great." You reach out and start to drink without hesitation.

It’s over. In-ho feels like he can breathe again, at least for the moment.

It doesn’t last long.

In-ho goes away to “work”, hoping you’ll be asleep while the pill works. He’s ready to be there for you once he returns, to be with you in any grief you feel.

The house is eerily silent and dark when he returns. In-ho climbs the stairs, eager to slip into bed with you for just a few moments of fitful rest. Just some time to be with you, before he has to face your hurt. The bedroom is empty when he walks in. The bedsheets on your side are haphazardly tossed aside, and you’re nowhere to be seen. He walks over and flips on the nightstand light, and notices out of the corner of his eye a discoloration in the sheets. A large stain rests in the middle of the bed, right where you would be lying, and when In-ho touches it, the tips of his fingers come back red. That’s when he notices the door to the master bathroom is closed, and a bit of light shines from underneath. If he focuses on the silence of the room, he can hear...something, from the other side. He makes his way over, slowly, a death march to the door. He reaches up to knock, but stops when he hears the faint sound again. Tiny gasps, hiccups. Sniffling. Muffled sobs. His heart shatters all over again.

"Darling?" He eventually calls, giving the door a strong but soft knock. "Darling, I'm coming in."

"In-ho?" You gasp out, your voice heavy with tears. "In-ho, no, please, don't-" you dissolve into more pronounced sobs, and In-ho hears something clatter to the floor.

"My love, please let me-"

"I said no!"

He freezes. He has never once heard you like this, the agonized sharpness turned to venom in your words. Not even when you were arguing with him in the doctor’s office over whether to terminate your pregnancy or not. He doesn’t try to knock or speak again, but he cannot bring his feet to drag his body from the door. He ends up sitting with his back against the door, listening to you cry. Alone. He doesn’t get any rest that night. Eventually, In-ho has to regretfully rise. Shady characters are in need of him once again and, in exchange, they’ll give him money he so desperately needs. It’s through such shady characters he was able to procure the medications that you needed so far. How he was able to get the pill to terminate your pregnancy. As he gathers his coat to go, he hears the door creak open, and turns to look at you. It’s like seeing a ghost. You’re pale, eyes red and ringed with dark circles, and even the way you hold yourself is as if you’re being dragged down to the earth. There’s a moment where the two of you simply exist in the same space. In-ho watches your features for even the most minuscule change, and it feels like hours pass as he waits. Eventually, you sigh in an attempt to speak, but your voice shakes with even the simple release of breath. In-ho takes a single step forward and waits again. This time, you meet him halfway, but keep your eyes firmly down and away from his own. Is it shame that motivates you to divert your gaze? The shame that rightfully only he should be feeling? The shame that is, in fact, burning in his core as he observes how much grief is weighing you down? You make an attempt to speak again, but just shake your head. You press your eyes closed to keep from outright sobbing but still stray tears escape. In-ho reaches up and brushes them away, letting his knuckles brush against your cheeks. The contact of his skin against yours shatters the tension and you walk forward into his arms, burying your face against his chest. He holds you close, knowing he’s wholly undeserving of the beautiful creature that is his wife seeking his arms for comfort. He allows himself a single tear that falls into your hair, not any more than that. How dare he compare his grief to yours, how dare he try and appropriate your sorrow? He can almost hear your voice in his head: How dare you? How dare you? Somehow, the embrace ends and he’s helping you into bed after stripping the bloodied sheets and putting on fresh ones. He pulls the blankets around your unmoving form, tucking you in and making sure you’re warm enough.

"I have to go," he whispers regretfully, not even sure if you’ll respond.

And you don’t. You don’t even look at him but, before he leaves, he kisses your lips and your hairline then steals a glance back at you. Your eyes fall closed, and silent tears are streaming down your cheeks as you cry yourself back to sleep.

But it doesn’t end there. You’re hospitalized shortly after and he’s driven to compete in the squid games after being recruited. The games are his last hope. He really needs that money even if it’s blood money. He needs that money to save you since he couldn’t save both you and your child. He could only save one. He wants to return home to you so he can get you the operation and medication you need to ensure you could one day have a healthy and safe pregnancy. He knows you still want a child despite the traumatic loss you suffered. You’ll never know what he did. After he won, you’re still in the hospital, waiting for him. As part of his reward for winning, a donor is found for you on top of the cash prize of 45.6 billion won. But he can’t go back to his old life after all the bridges that have been burned behind him. But he wants - no, needs to keep you. If there’s anyone or anything from his old life he will never let go of, it’s you. Bound by his duties as the Front Man for the games and his marriage vows to you, he has no other choice but to go undercover as a doctor and create a diversion to kidnap you from the hospital so he can whisk you away to an unknown and private island where you can receive the best medical attention for your condition. Somehow, police have already been notified of his activity and what he plans to do.

“He’s in the building, posing as a doctor. He’s armed and has already killed five people. Evacuation is underway. We have to go,” an attending physician says.

“No. An evacuation is exactly what he wants. The staff bailed when the alarms went off. This is a deliberate diversion to get everybody out and away from her. He’s here for her. We can't leave her alone in her room. She’ll die if we leave her alone here or if he takes her,” your personal doctor insists.

“So we take her with us. Come on. Careful.”

“Thank you,” you say weakly as your doctor helps you out of bed and into a wheelchair.

You don’t get very far when you’re stopped by your husband standing in the doorway to the ward you’re kept in, dressed in black scrubs, black gloves, and a medical face mask, just like the police said he’d be. He’s holding a Heckler & Koch MP5A3 sub-machine gun that’s strapped over his shoulder and across his body. “Ah... I'll take it from here.”

“In-ho… In-ho, listen to me. We're trying to help her.”

“You're killing her.”

“No. No, In-ho.”

“In-ho...” you rasp, your voice and body incredibly weak from your disease. Your eyes water when you look at him. Despite his black attire, you can still see the blood on him and you know it’s not his. You’re terrified.

“I understand why you're doing this,” your doctor tries to sympathize.

“I'm saving her life.”

“At the cost of how many other lives?”

“Too many to turn back now. As soon as I've done what I need to do, I'll give myself up. But now we have to leave.”

“In-ho, listen to me. I'm her doctor. I know her history. I’ve known her her entire adult life. If we move her now, she might die.”

“Her doctor. Good. You're coming with us to push the wheelchair. Let's go.”

“No. No way!” The attending physician tries to stop this from happening.

“I'm going. She's my patient,” your doctor insists.

“I can't let you do that. I'll go.”

“It's not your call. She needs me.”

“I'm not gonna hurt her. I don't want to hurt anyone, unless I have to.” Your husband insists.

“I'm going.”

“In-ho, please...don't do this. Please, she’s pregnant.” Pregnant just like I was, you want to say, but you don’t have the strength. Your voice shakes like a rattle as you struggle to breathe while you beg for him to not do this, to leave your doctor out of it, trying to get through to him, to get him to see reason.

“Honey, don't worry. It's all under control.”

“Help...” you beg, your body already feeling worse.

“We have to go. Now.”

You sob when you hear bullets go off, your husband having shot dead the attending physician left behind. He can’t afford to leave any extra witnesses.

“In-ho, please think about this. How will you take care of her if you're in prison?” Your doctor asks as she follows behind him and pushes your wheelchair.

“I won't. You will. The city will. It's the law. As long as she's legally alive, she's a ward of the city and the city has to keep her alive and safe.”

“So I shall undergo countless operations and spend days or weeks in medically-induced comas only to wake up one day with you in prison or dead? A life alone isn't one that I want. There must be another way. Please, In-ho,” you beg him again to reconsider, but he doesn’t listen.

Holding your doctor at gunpoint in her car, he gives her directions and orders her to drive exactly where he tells her to go. You reach docks where a speedboat is waiting for you with masked and armed guards on board. He orders your doctor out of the car and to board the boat at gunpoint, then carefully lifts you into his arms bridal style and carries you onto the boat himself. You’re unconscious for most of the voyage, unable to bear the stress of the situation anymore, though it doesn’t take too long to get to your destination. Against your will, you’re taken to the island. You’re given the surgeries you need, the treatments and medications you need, etc. but despite the success of your operations and treatments, recovery still takes months. Most of it is spent on bedrest and In-ho is still hovering over you whenever he returns to your shared personal quarters, asking both you and your doctor how you’re faring, if you’re eating well and sleeping well, etc. as he comes to your bedside and rests his hand on your head to pet your hair and rub your cheek. You feel guilty that your doctor has been held captive alongside you all these months, kept by your side to attend your every need whenever In-ho is called away and can’t do it himself. You’re terrified of what might happen to her if you were to suddenly take a turn for the worst. It’s not rational, but you have a horrible sinking feeling in your gut that if anything involving you were to go wrong, In-ho would blame her, even if it’s something out of her control. And that he’d kill her if you were to die under her watch.

One day, when you’re alone, you confess to your doctor that she may be able to escape.

“I heard In-ho talking when he thought I was asleep. There’s speedboats and oxygen tanks docked on the coast of the island not far from here. If you hurry, you can take one and make it out before he gets back,” you plead to her.

“I'm not leaving you,” she insists, holding your hand to comfort you.

“This must be very stressful for you and your baby. And you’re almost due.”

“We're fine.”

“Could I have some water?” You ask instead, and she walks away to grab a glass and fill it with water from the sink. She hands it to you. “Thank you. You’ve heard him all these months. He's not a bad man at heart. You’ll get out of here alive, I promise. I’ll talk to In-ho. I’ll do everything in my power to make it so. If I’m not standing on the shoreline and waving you off as I watch you board a boat headed for home, then I’m not breathing at all.”

“Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. The surgeries have been successes so far and your body has accepted the new organ with minimal issues. There have been no signs of rejection.”

“When you’re sent home, you have to tell them that he’s not a bad man. That he only wanted to save me because he loves me. Please.”

“I will.”

“And please tell them that I'm very sorry for my part in this. I saw the man that he was becoming and I did nothing. Because I loved him. You know what that's like, don't you?”

“I do.”

“Thank you. You've been very kind. Can you…would you mind if I ask… Have you picked out any names for your baby?”

You’re desperate to talk about something else, to think about something else. Something happy for her even if it’s bittersweet for you. You need a distraction from your current predicament. When she tells you about the baby’s gender (if she knows it) and the names she likes and has been considering, you smile and tell her about the names you highlighted in the baby name book you had at home. You’re not sure if you would’ve wanted to know the gender or be surprised. You talk about the dreams for the future you once had, whether you wanted your first to be a boy or girl, if you had a preference or not, etc.

During your recovery, your husband still acts as the Front Man for subsequent annual games and you’re kept in the dark. He’s in deeper than he was when he won the games. He’s now taken to arranging the games and acting as the Host following the original mastermind's death. He has continuously run the games for several years. It’s now 2024. Your doctor was set free and sent back home before her due date after all the precautions were taken to ensure she couldn’t find or disclose the location of the island, including having her being closely monitored by the pink guards, ready to shoot her dead and dispose of her body if she ever spoke out. But she’s kept quiet and gone along with the story that you and In-ho are dead, because of you. Because of you, she’s still alive and got to have her baby. And you? You’re still on the island. You understand that recovery for your condition could sometimes take more than a year, but you’ve been here nearly ten years. You can’t leave without his permission. You’ve tried more than once. Rather than tell you there’s no life for you to go back to since the world thinks you’re both dead, he keeps you here for so long by lying to you over and over and over. If he told you the truth, how could he admit to any of it without losing you? It’s his duty to protect you, the love of his life. Even if it’s painful. This relentless drive to get what he wants was apparent even before becoming the Front Man, as there were many self-help books on achieving one's desires in his old apartment.

But disruptions to his facilitation of the 36th iteration of the games have forced his hand to resort toward more drastic measures. As retaliation for Gi-hun's continued defiance against him for three years, he repeatedly tries to break him by forcing him to participate in the game. He joins the games specifically to break Gi-hun's spirit, and intentionally works his way into his inner circle, with no indication that he truly sees him as a friend, all to successfully sabotage his efforts to bring the game down by force. When Gi-hun's rebellion is successfully suppressed, the Front Man spares his life while personally ordering the execution of Jung-bae in front of him and telling him it’s the consequence of trying to play the hero. At the same time he’s undercover as a player, he’s still fulfilling his duties as your husband through proxy, having the pink guards give you whatever you need and keeping an eye on you so you don’t learn too much. He’s hidden the remote control he uses to watch the games on the big screen so you won’t know. But what if you’re stronger, smarter, and more resilient than you let on and manage to gather very valuable information by eavesdropping on In-ho’s conversations by feigning being asleep whenever he checks on you, sneaking away and stealthing around the building, etc., all to slowly discover the horrific truth your husband so desperately has kept hidden from you for the last ten years?

13. Like above with The Recruiter, a scenario very much like the Korean thriller movie “Addicted”. You’re the long time girlfriend of Jun-ho and get married. While he and In-ho are very different as people, and the only thing they really have in common is that they’re both cops, they are very close despite only being stepbrothers. You’ve also been very close to In-ho, though you always thought of your relationship as strictly friendly due to him being your brother-in-law and himself having a wife that you believe he loves. You’re there for In-ho and his wife when she gets sick and she views you as a sister not just because of your relation as sister-in-laws but because you’re always there to support her and do what you can to care for her and comfort her, from little things to big things, especially whenever In-ho is away due to his job. He and his wife can always count on you. You visit her more in the hospital than her own husband does. You’re the only other person besides In-ho to learn of her pregnancy and when she confides in you about it, she swears you to secrecy in case the worst happens. She tells you that in case she dies, she doesn’t want Jun-ho or his parents to know and feel even worse. In-ho tries to get you to talk to his wife, to try to convince her to change her mind and terminate the pregnancy, but she’s stubborn and won’t listen to anyone, not even you, despite your pleads that In-ho is only worried for her health and she can always try again after she’s better. Sometime in 2015, In-ho goes missing for a week. Neither you, Jun-ho, or his wife can get a hold of him. You’re all worried. You were always concerned for his safety while on the job and even his wife asked him not to be away from home so much anymore, but he’s just as stubborn as she was. You can understand that he needed more money to help her, but you grew concerned that he was putting himself at risk. And when she worsens and later succumbs to her acute cirrhosis, you’re devastated. Even more so when In-ho returns home and you have to break the news to him. You’re there for In-ho, taking him through the worst of his grief. In subsequent years, he asks you to go with him when he visits his wife’s grave on her death day to bring her fresh flowers, etc.

But then he goes missing again. For real this time.

Your husband becomes so obsessed with finding In-ho that he neglects you. You don’t divorce, but your marriage is deteriorating and while a part of you still loves him, the spark is slowly flickering out. You feel less like a wife and more like a single woman as time goes on. With a heavy heart, you carry on with your life and try to move on and find ways to be happy despite all the loss you’ve suffered. But your depression worsens when your husband stops coming home and stops answering your calls. It’s like he’s also vanished into thin air, exactly like In-ho. You can barely stand to be in your house anymore and often spend time outside or in hotels. One night, you have to hail a taxi when your car breaks down. The speeding taxi crashes into a black van, and while the driver is seriously injured, possibly even killed on impact, you’re only knocked unconscious with minor injuries.

Unbeknownst to you, this is a deliberate and orchestrated car crash, part of a plan to kidnap you and bring you to an unknown island. Under the Front Man’s orders, you’re sedated during the whole transportation process. You later wake up in an unfamiliar room, strapped down to a bed. You freak out, but freeze in shock when In-ho enters the room and comes to your bedside. He looks older, which is to be expected since you haven’t seen him in over five years, but it’s definitely him. He calms you down from your lashing out and panic attack, explaining the situation in a way that’ll keep you in the dark about what’s really going on but also serve his ulterior motives for why he brought you here. He takes care of you while you recover from the minor injuries you suffered in the collision, nothing major besides a concussion and a minor head wound and other scrapes and bruises. He tells you a fabricated but believable story about why he went missing, which includes that Jun-ho is dead, that he was shot and fell into the sea while on a job. To “prove it” he shows you doctored but eerily convincing confidential police files and death records from when that random body was found with Jun-ho’s ID on him. It was so damaged it was unrecognizable in pictures. With evidence in front of you, you have no choice but to believe In-ho and everything he tells you. Still, you’re devastated by this revelation. But he swears to take you through the worst of your grief, just like you did for him when his wife was sick and died.

Years go by of you living on the island, still kept in the dark. Could be through the use of drugs to make you disoriented and confused and blurring that edge of reality, gaslighting, and other manipulation tactics. When he does take you outside his private quarters to get some fresh air, it’s always brief and he stealthily knocks you out so you don’t get a full grasp of where you really are. You never know how you got there or how you got back. It’s so subtle you hardly notice and think you just fell asleep. You and In-ho eventually share a slow, emotional night together and have sex after the tearful revelation that you’ve fallen in love. You didn’t confess to him your feelings sooner because you felt so guilty due to being married to his brother even if he’s dead and you’re a widow now, and because In-ho’s wife was like your best friend. You felt awful for “stealing” her husband even though she died and he’s a widower who suffered the same loss you did. He helps you to overcome that guilt and you start to live life together as a happy and loving couple, despite the strange and unusual circumstances. In time, you become pregnant with In-ho’s child. One day you’re not feeling well, so you decide to go back to your private quarters to get some rest after he takes you outside for fresh air. While you’re there, a package addressed to In-ho arrives. You open it and find a necklace which you remember In-ho had given to his wife. You read the accompanying note from her, saying that she cannot wear this necklace anymore as it wasn’t meant for her and she cannot understand In-ho’s crazy love for you.

Frantic, you snoop around the other doors and find an underground chamber. You dig through In-ho’s secret workroom and find a number of hidden photos of yourself that were taken by him. You realize that In-ho had loved you before you married his brother and before he married his wife. You also find a notebook that In-ho wrote about loving you and being happy because he is able to watch you and live with you through his brother, Jun-ho. Through these secret documents, you discover your husband is possibly alive, having only been shot in the shoulder by In-ho himself and fallen into the sea. He lied to you just so that he could have you to himself. You were talking about getting married because you’re so in love and you thought it’s what Jun-ho and In-ho’s wife would want, at least for the sake of your unborn child. You were so happy mere hours ago and now, you’re crying sorrowfully. You don’t know what to do with the new information you’ve uncovered. Luckily, through some miracle, you’re not caught by In-ho. You put back everything exactly the way you found it as you’ve spent enough time in his personal office at home and remembered how he organizes his things, even down to which direction he sets down the phone receiver.

Do you take him aside and ask him various questions about his wife and where you are and when you can go home? Every time you tried in the past, he’d change the subject after giving you non-definite answers. Do you continue to pretend that Jun-ho is dead and you’ve moved on despite knowing the truth? You love In-ho and you know he loves you but this…this is much more than you could’ve ever imagined. You couldn’t have ever expected this. It’s been revealed that In-ho loved you even before Jun-ho, and had for the entire time you were with his brother. In-ho also confessed in a secret letter to Jun-ho that he’d never send that he made use of all of yours and his brother's secrets to "transform" himself into the perfect man for you. He tells his brother that you will forever love him as your husband. He apologizes and asks his brother never to forgive him for his deeds.

14. In-ho’s wife managed to successfully give birth to a healthy baby girl despite dying in the process. That baby girl is you, born sometime in 2015. When In-ho returned home and went to the hospital his wife was staying in after winning the 28th annual squid games, he received the bittersweet news that his wife was dead, having died in childbirth, but that you, his baby daughter, was alive and would be fine. You were either being kept in the hospital still or staying with Jun-ho and his parents. When he saw you and held you for the first time, he almost didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to set you down or let you out of his sight. He gave you the name his wife picked. It’s now 2024 and you’re eight or nine years old. What would your life be like? Would In-ho take you with him to the island from infancy to keep you safe and under his watchful eye while he acts as Front Man/Host for the squid games because you’re the last living piece of his wife that he has and he doesn’t want to ever lose you or miss out on any milestone in your life? What would it be like, effectively being kept prisoner on the island but kept in the dark and oblivious about what he does? Having no real friends to play with except maybe the Pink Guards who are under strict orders to play with you or keep an eye on you? Or would he leave you to be raised by his parents and Jun-ho? Or would he keep your existence secret from Jun-ho and his parents and come up with a secret third option that entails you having a normal-ish life with other “family” of his that he personally arranged, but he visits you or sends you messages on a very special encrypted phone or through the mail through mysterious envelopes without return addresses on them whenever he can, even if it’s at the most random of times? Would you know he’s your father from the beginning or would you learn this fact later in life?

For a darker and more fucked up version: What if Jun-hee isn’t the first heavily pregnant player to compete in the games? Sometime during his years working as the Front Man and overseeing the games, he kept a close eye on a heavily pregnant contestant. After she was shot and killed for failing a game (the guard responsible making sure to avoid her stomach and shoot her in the head), her body was quickly loaded up into a box and taken away. The guards working in the morgue only had about ten minutes if they wanted to save the baby growing inside her. And they were under clear and strict orders by The Front Man to do so. A post-mortem c-section was performed and, when they cut her open, they pulled out a crying and screaming baby girl. The baby was cleaned up and checked by the doctor stationed on the island, then wrapped in a blanket and handed over to the Front Man per his orders/request. And that’s how you came to be his daughter. He’s your father now. And as far as you’ll ever know, he’s your biological father who solely raised you after your mother, his wife, died in childbirth from complications of acute cirrhosis of the liver.

15. Being in a poly relationship with the Front Man and The Recruiter would include? I don’t know any specific plot ideas exactly or how you got to be their personal whore/toy, but just imagine being a sugar baby or lover to both of these men that are two different flavors of DILF. You’re given everything from clothes, lingerie, and jewelry to a car and a house, as well as all the money you could ever need to pay for whatever it is you need - college tuition, medical bills, etc., even if it’s not for you but for one of your loved ones. In exchange, you’re on call for whenever either or both of them are in need of you and your services. You do whatever they ask of you, no matter what it is. Doesn’t matter what time it is, you go to them whenever they call. (Or maybe The Recruiter would go so far as to having a key to your house and letting himself in through the door or through a window, without giving you prior warning he’s coming. He comes whenever he feels like it. Could be any time of the day. And if you’re not home when he gets there, he’ll call you and tell you to get your cute ass home. Now. Then he’ll make himself comfortable in your house while he’s waiting for you. But you know that the longer you make him wait, the worse your punishment will be. Maybe a stipulation to having the house is leaving the doors and windows unlocked. If it’s late at night, he’d just sneak into your bedroom while you’re asleep and rouse you awake by going down on you or something. Classic Somnophilia.)

You either drive to them yourself or a car and/or a boat is waiting for you to be picked up. Imagine being squeezed in between these men like a sandwich or being in an Eiffel Tower with them, whether or not either or both of them are covered in blood from shooting players. (They wouldn’t care if you were on your monthly cycle. If anything, your blood would turn them on even more.) Imagine getting fucked on the hood of or inside the white limousine. Imagine them taking turns to watch while the other one fucks you. Imagine them turning fucking you into all kinds of thrilling and borderline dangerous sex games along the same vein of the actual squid games. Like they tell you do something under a time limit and if you fail and the timer runs out, they won’t kill you, but they’ll punish you sexually. And sometimes their punishments are so intense they make you wish you were dead because being denied your orgasms over and over and over is a special kind of torture and the coiling in your gut from your building orgasm that’s unable to be released is almost unbearable. What if you’ve been at this “job” so long that it gets to a point where In-ho wants to give you a “raise” and get you pregnant because he wants a child after the death of his wife and their unborn child and he may or may not have a pregnancy kink?

That is all for now. Thank you for listening to my brainrot.

#the recruiter x reader #the salesman x reader #gong yoo x reader #hwang in ho x reader #the front man x reader #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game smut #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #squid game spoilers #lee byung hun #gong yoo #squid game prompts #fic prompts #pls tag me if you’re inspired by these #I’d love to read it

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