#it's lovely i just need it taken away from me

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter three | formula one imagine

chapter three: home away from home

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

back in monaco for the first time after the crash, y/n reckons with ghosts from the past and the uncertain future.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | PART ONE | PART TWO

despite the hefty price tag of the cat carrier, brando looks less than impressed. y/n continued to try and coax him in with a treat but the cat was suspicious to say the least.

“please get in the carrier brando,” she waved the treat in his face again, “we’re going to see max! you love max and you don’t mind kimi, yeah? remember them? we just have a short 16 hour drive because your lordship doesn’t like planes so can we please get in the carrier?”

brando bit into the treat and slowly made his way into the carrier looking sorry for himself. the biggest and final chore was now done with minimal guilt, she would take that. y/n wasn’t moving to monaco - no, she prided herself on being one of the only drivers to not make that jump, but she also didn’t exactly know when she was coming back.

there was less than a month until car launches and tests and max insisted on hosting some team-bonding sessions for her and kimi. it was probably just an excuse to see her before she is ‘tainted by mercedes’, but y/n found herself excited to see the dutchman again.

the suitcases were by the door and the plants had been watered, it was now or never. crossing the boundary of her front door, it dawned on y/n that her life was changing again. there wasn’t quite the excitement she had leading up to her first race in formula one, but she could feel the butterflies threatening to return.

the door clicked shut and the next phase started. in the lobby of her building, y/n approached the front desk.

“hi frank,” y/n said to the concierge, “i’m going away for a little while so could you keep all of my mail together for me?”

the older man smiled up at her. frank had been working at this building since y/n first moved in. he had tried to hide that he was a formula one fan but wasn’t quite successful. he had stuttered when she had turned up one evening, cap low on her head and oversized sunglasses despite the darkness.

“miss y/ln, would you like me to help you with your bags?”

y/n had frozen when frank said her name. frank had taken his hat off, trying to sort out the salt and pepper freckled hair on his head.

“i’m so sorry miss y/ln, that was unprofessional of me. as you now know, i am aware of who you are, i hope this does not make you uncomfortable. we will do anything you need to be comfortable here.”

y/n had also taken off her hat and looked frank in the eye. she deemed him sincere and allowed herself two minutes of respite from her burning anger. “no worries,” she looks down at his name tag, “frank. i would love some help, maybe on a better day i can sign something for you? other than these bags, i’d really love if this being my home was just something we keep between us.”

frank mock saluted and started grabbing bags.

“you won’t be gone forever will you, miss y/ln?” frank asked, pulling y/n back. the older man looked uncharacteristically worried.

“and miss our scintillating conversations? i would never! i assume you’ve heard i’ve taken the job with kimi? i’m going to do some ‘team-bonding’ with him in monaco and then i’ll be back”

frank took one of her suitcases, helping her to the garage.

“monaco you say? you wouldn’t be staying with the handsome dutchman by any chance,” frank said, raising an eyebrow in question.

“i might be?” y/n opened the door of her pink cadillac, “was it you who let him and kimi up without my permission, frank?”

“guilty as charged ma’am, but they were there with good purpose so i just had to”

frank continued loading the car with her suitcases, opening the back door and securing brando’s carrier in place.

“he also gave me a signed pair of race gloves, sorry!”

y/n exclaimed as she shut the door of the car. “i knew he was bribing you! but yes, i guess i am glad you let them up - for now.”

frank pulled y/n in for a hug. she let it linger before clearing her throat and pulling back.

“i know i’m just an old man, but it’s nice to see you excited about something again. you came to me three years ago a broken girl with a constant face like thunder,” frank pinched her cheek, “but here you are, ready to conquer the world again. i am proud of you. but don’t get too lost in your new role to not see what’s right in front of you.”

y/n was confused. frank continued, “the crash took a lot from you, but it did not make you unloveable. give people a chance.”

the older man stepped back and gave her a wave.

“make sure you make enough stops and get some sleep, it’s a long drive to monaco. say hi to max for me.”

frank turned and made his way back into the building. y/n sighed and climbed into her car. the pink cadillac was hardly subtle but she had banished all of her other cars to a different garage three years again so it would simply have to do.

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yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, kimiantonelli and 11,304,788 others

yourusername: sixteen hour road trip ahead of us, i hope brando is ready to get real acquainted with taylor swift's discography

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user1: she’s so cute

user2: it’s the pink caddy!!!

user3: y/n is back in formula one and is driving the pink cadillac - never kill yourself

charles_leclerc: okay miss active on instagram

yourusername: had to come back and steal all the likes from you obviously

charles_leclerc: oh yes please remind me how you still have double the followers i do when you haven’t posted in three years?

yourusername: idk sounds like you have a skill issue to me

charles_leclerc: sixteen hours and you’re back on my stomping ground… watch it missy

yourusername: i will watch

yourusername: because i know you and you will grovel

charles_leclerc: maybe…

charles_leclerc: i’ve missed you, sue me!

yourusername: i just might!

charles_leclerc: wait-!

user4: all these reunions are making me sappy

user5: i’m stuck on the fact that y/n is driving all the way to monaco?

yourusername: brando doesn’t like flying 😕

user6: oh to be a high maintenance cat of a rich person

maxverstappen1: jimmy and sassy are eagerly awaiting your arrival

yourusername: awwww i’ve missed them

maxverstappen1: i was talking to brando…

yourusername: rightttttt

maxverstappen1: but i am eagerly awaiting your arrival

yourusername: as you should be

maxverstappen1: i stocked up on all your weird english biscuits and everything

yourusername: you’re too precious

user7: oh to have a bond like theirs

user8: i fear it’s a trauma bond

user9: it’s still cute!

kimiantonelli: can’t wait to get started miss y/ln

yourusername: please call me y/n kimi you’re making me feel so old

kimiantonelli: oki

kimiantonelli: miss y/ln what kind of pasta do you like

kimiantonelli: *y/n what kind of pasta do you like

olliebearman: you are such a failure omg

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the road was quiet, with taylor swift’s voice filling the silence. y/n had exhausted the conversation with brando, who was tuckered out in the backseat. by now the pair we deep into france, y/n had stopped being able to translate the road signs many miles ago.

the thought of returning to monaco was daunting. there would be ghosts around every corner and memories that y/n wasn’t sure she was ready to confront. y/n wasn’t even sure which drivers even lived in the principality any more - however, she knew that her former teammate did.

lando norris was a bit of an enigma in y/n’s life. there were early growing pains in their friendship? work relationship? but as the 2021 season rolled around, she thought they had finally been ironed out. the gap was slim, but lando had outscored her in 2020, so his ego was still intact and that made him a little more enjoyable to be around.

y/n wasn’t sure who or what had pushed lando over the edge of accepting her as a teammate and not just a mere annoyance, but january 2021 was night and day from her rookie season. y/n had a sneaking suspicion that lando had been subject of some heated PR meetings over the christmas break, but as long as she wasn’t in them, she didn’t really care.

suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere. lando spoke to her outside of meetings, in between video takes and checked in over the breaks. suddenly lando knew the name of her friends, where she had gone on holiday and her favourite food. y/n didn’t think much of it at the time. but then came everything else.

july 2021.

y/n didn’t tend to spend long on social media, why open herself up to the opinions of stupid people just because they were loud? one morning, a sunny one in monaco, y/n received a flurry of texts from her trainer luca. ripped from her yoga session on max’s balcony, y/n checked her texts.

luca: is there other strenuous activities i need to be aware of?

luca: tiktok.com/userlandonorris/reposts

luca: if this is a thing, should jon and i coordinate training plans?

huh?

y/n clicked the link and was taken to lando’s tiktok page. she felt like an old woman trying to navigate the app but finally found the reposts. the first few she saw were edits of herself? and then a couple talking about “finally being understood by that person” and some other more charged in nature.

what the fuck. there wasn’t a normal day in this team it seemed. y/n pulled back the door and went to find max. the dutchman was tucked into bed, still sore from silverstone just two weeks earlier.

“have you seen this shit?” y/n said, shoving her phone in max’s face, “i mean what does this even mean? 69? i didn’t even know lando could count that high?”

“i think he’s referencing sex, y/n”

“i know he’s referencing sex idiot! why is he referencing having sex with me?!”

“i don’t know, you’re the dumbass who joined that team - he’s probably trying to like get you on side after the shit he pulled in austria and is doing it in classic dumbass lando fashion.”

austria had been eventful. both lando and y/n had somewhat slow starts to the season, with just one podium to their names by the time they pulled up to the red bull ring. the two papaya cars lined up fourth and fifth on the grid, with y/n managing to edge in front of her teammate, which meant the two were subjected to the word teamwork 72 times in a 45 minute meeting (y/n had counted).

when the lights went out, y/n got the jump on the ferrari of sainz ahead of her, wrestling her way past the spaniard and up into third. with cleaner air, max had already wrangled a healthy three second gap back to her and was hunting down lewis, so she focused on keeping the prancing horse behind her. as they approached the steep incline, carlos jerked out to the right and tried his luck up the inside. the spaniard was heavy on his brakes, burning up his tyres as he missed the apex and shunted his front wing into y/n’s front right tyre.

the contact didn’t manage to cause a puncture or any terminal body damage, but the push had made way for carlos, lando and charles to slide past her as she strained to keep her mclaren from going into the gravel trap.

“what the hell was that?” y/n asked down the radio, keeping her eyes focused on charles’ ferrari down the road. “do i have any damage?”

“no damage that we can see. hang back for a couple of laps, the ferraris are eating their tyres and will fall back to you.” jude, her usually cool race engineer, had a bite to his voice.

taking the corner as tight as she could y/n barked back, “surely he has to give that place back? he forced me off the track?!” y/n was practically vibrating, with anger or from the force on her tyres, she wasn’t sure yet. “just keep your head down, we’ll get back to you,” hugo replied.

the ferrari of charles was getting further and further down the road. “hugo their tyres aren’t falling off, can i hunt them down yet? what about this penalty?” it was like talking to a brick wall as the pit wall didn’t reply. y/n bit down the urge to swear up a storm and put her foot down with renewed vigour.

by the next lap y/n had managed to battle her way into charles’ drs and was priming her tyres for a late move further down the track. charles tried to cut off the slip stream and predict which side y/n might choose, but it wasn’t enough as the mclaren breezed past charles before they even hit the apex.

unbeknownst to y/n the silence from hugo was indicative of the larger argument happening on the pit wall. despite putting massive flatspots on his tyres, lando had yet to make his way past sainz’s ferrari. will, lando’s race engineer, was deep in discussion with him over the radio (which would’ve made quite entertaining viewing for y/n after the fact if it didn’t concern her so deeply).

“lando we are confident that sainz will get a penalty. y/n has cleared charles, we need you to back sainz into y/n so she can overtake. when she does we want you to give the position back.”

and if that wasn’t the sentence that summoned the shitstorm.

“why should i give the position back? i did nothing wrong?”

lando kept his foot down and increased the gap between himself and sainz. will’s voice rang out on the radio again,

“lando. sainz pushed y/n off track and you all gained positions, the right thing to do is to give the position back.”

that was a red flag to a raging lando. he let off a spiel that had made the post-race debrief and all media duties torture for the pair of them.

“carlos did nothing wrong and i did nothing wrong. y/n needs to learn we won’t just let her past like schumacher did. tell her to hurry up if she wants this position back, i won’t give her a podium just because she can’t defend.”

there was silence on the mclaren radio for a few moments. there was even silence on the broadcasts. no one quite knew what to say to that.

y/n had closed in on sainz, hundredths away from being in the spaniard’s drs range. her radio finally crackled back to life, “y/n you have full permission to use your tyres, we aim to pit soon. you are free to race with lando.”

excuse me? on one hand y/n was glad, there had been a couple awkward moments already this season where she had been told to hold position and not fight. however, that was her position, lost through no fault of her own?

“i am free to race? he should give me that position!”

“you are free to race. head down and clear sainz before we discuss again.”

this was bullshit. she knew it, hugo knew it, zak brown knew it, the broadcast team knew it and deep down lando knew it too. sainz was an easy pass for y/n in the end as she pipped him on the start finish straight. lando had a three second advantage which meant that y/n had some free air to cool down her tyres and get ready to fight her teammate. she would be clean but she was finishing on that podium whether he liked it or not.

within two laps y/n had completely dropped sainz and was breathing down the neck of lando. she was within his drs range as they rounded the final corner but before she could launch an attack lando swerved into the pit lane. that was an early stop? y/n quietly thought to herself that it seemed all too convenient that he was called into pit just as she was about to catch him… not that it really bothered her all too much, the over cut was more powerful at austria, so if she kept her good pace, she should come back out in front of her teammate.

many laps later and a late pit stop for y/n, the younger mclaren driver proudly picked up her second podium of the season. she hauled herself out of the car in parc ferme and immediately embraced max who had once again managed to win his quasi home race, catching lewis with ten laps to go.

once she had been weighed, y/n made her way to the interviews, glad to see it would be jenson conducting them - he always gave her nice questions.

“up first we have our third place finisher, the incomparable y/n y/ln! what a stint on those mediums, i thought for a second you were going to go all the way on them!” jenson said with a wide grin.

“thank you jenson! yeah… after the first lap i thought my race was pretty screwed… the fia took their time with carlos’ penalty so i had to regain my positions myself… but i think all in all it was a good race i’m glad to being going into my home race on the high of a podium and i’ll be looking to do even better there!”

jenson smiled at her but started to pick at his nails, a telltale sign he was going to have to ask a question he didn’t want to ask. “not to bring you down after a great race, but i must ask, what do you make of lando’s comments on the radio?”

y/n was puzzled, and her face showed that much. she started stuttering and shrugging. one of the production assistants behind jenson passed her a phone and pressed play. y/n held the phone up to her ear and felt the words rush over her.

“carlos did nothing wrong and i did nothing wrong. y/n needs to learn we won’t just let her past like schumacher did. tell her to hurry up if she wants this position back, i won’t give her a podium just because she can’t defend.”

oh. okay. y/n knew she needed to take a couple breaths before she responded or she would say something she would regret. people would probably forget about lando’s comments by next week but if she said something like that she’d be stuck with the brat label for the rest of her career.

“that’s disappointing for sure to hear. third and fourth is a good result for the team and it ended how it should’ve. we’ll discuss this with the team but for right now i’m going to celebrate my podium and drink some champagne!”

jenson gave her a nod to say she did well and beckoned over lewis. y/n walked back to the side of the podium pen and slid in next to max.

“who the fuck does he think he is saying that? i’m being serious, someones got to knock some sense into him,” max said under his breath, aware cameras were still on them.

“i know, it’s bullshit, but i doubt they’ll say anything severe to him.”

just as y/n was making peace with the fact there would be no severe consequences for lando, her and max turned to see the man himself in the media pen. intrigued, both listened in on his interview.

“it sounds bad on the radio, yes. but i stand by the message, maybe not the delivery. this is formula one and y/n needs to know that you can’t just bat your eyelashes and be let by.” lando’s PR handler cuts the interview there and drags him back towards the mclaren garage, barely concealing her anger on her face.

“well, well, well.”

max groaned from under the blanket he had wrapped over his head, snapping y/n out of it.

“yes he was a massive knob in austria, as per usual, but i don’t understand how implying he’s sleeping with me makes it any better? it makes it look so much worse!”

“can you stop bothering me about it i think you just retriggered my concussion.”

“i don’t think that’s a thing, max,” y/n said and then her phone chimed, “speak of the devil, he’s asked if we can go for some lunch to ‘discuss the season’ whatever the fuck that means”

“good leave me alone”

“we’re going to luigi’s do you want me to get you some carpaccio to go?”

“i actually take it back, i love you - yes.”

y/n refilled his water and got his painkillers from the kitchen before she slipped on her shoes and made her way out of the complex. this is what was confusing about lando. he was more than happy to berate her on the radio but then would set up meetings like this like nothing had happened. usually y/n could write it off as a heat of the moment thing - she had once called mick an ‘incompetent cunt with shit hair’ on the radio so she definitely understood it. but it never stopped there, media duties were the death of lando and y/n was interested to see how he aimed to worm his way out of this one.

luigi’s was surprisingly busy for a tuesday afternoon but y/n spotted lando easily with his big jumper in the july heat. lando didn’t stand up to greet her so y/n just sat down as soon as she got to the table.

“do you know what you want to order?” lando snapped the menu shut and looked over to her.

“i’m doing well lando, thanks for asking,” y/n muttered sarcastically, “i’m just going to get some of the salmon, it’s good here.”

the waiter turned up just as she put the menu down and y/n ordered the salmon, a juice and the carpaccio to go. lando had ordered some chicken salad and a water. once the waiter had left he hissed at y/n, “did you order that on purpose?”

“what?”

“the salmon.”

“are you allergic or?”

“no?”

“then what’s the big deal? i like salmon, it’s good for you.”

“i hate fish. everyone knows i hate fish. i invited you here to sort things out and you’re already starting with the mind games.”

y/n’s mouth fell open. he was actually being serious.

“you know not everything is about you right? salmon is in my meal plan and they cook it nicely here. i don’t think about you in everything i do.”

lando huffed, whispering a ‘that i’m sure of’ to himself. this was so childish, and y/n was very to let lando know that. “do you want to repeat yourself lando? or are you going to continue to be a child?”

lando was taken aback, “me being a child? says you! i wanted to talk this out after silverstone like we planned? you were going to come to see my family and everything. they were so excited to meet you, especially my sisters. but no, you let me, let us down!”

y/n actually laughed in disbelief. “i told you i was sorry about silverstone and i was, but max needed me and in that moment he was who i had to be with.”

“it’s always max, isn’t it?”

“he was airlifted to the hospital lando, i’m sure he would’ve preferred me hang out with your family than have to do that again.”

lando had started to rip apart the napkins, a sign he was desperately trying to regulate himself.

“you always choose him! you choose him then, you only stay at his when you’re in monaco - you’re even picking up food for him on our date!”

“our date? are you kidding me? i’m going to ignore that,” y/n took a sip of water,” and for max? i care about him deeply and he was in hospital after a very dangerous crash!”

“then why don’t you care about me? huh?” lando was getting choked up, “you’ve never been there for me when i’ve crashed?”

now y/n was even more confused. lando had wanted her to be there for him when he had crashed but also couldn’t stand to be around her longer than necessary until this season. this boy was such a headfuck.

“you fucking hated me last season lando. and the way you’re acting here and how you acted in austria don’t really tell me that you like me any more.”

lando huffed and crossed his arms like a child. y/n continued, “this is what i don’t get with you. you can’t stand me all last season, literally refusing to call me by my name, only calling me rookie and running from meetings as soon as you can but now, now! i need to be there for your every need. now you can repost dumb tiktoks and fuel rumours about us?”

“they told me we needed to look closer!”

“so you decided to tell the world we’re fucking?”

“i didn’t say that!”

“you basically did, i saw the reposts. and for your information i would never fuck you in a million years.”

“no, that’s for max only isn’t it?”

“what is you people’s fucking obsession with thinking i am sleeping with someone on the grid? is it that inconceivable that i might be able to exist around my fellow drivers without trying to sleep with them?”

“well you should stop acting like you are then!”

y/n stood up abruptly, scraping the chair across the floor. she hastily grabbed her stuff and slotted her sunglasses back.

“you can send me what i owe for the lunch, i don’t feel like sitting here and being berated because you can’t handle this season. you know who actually has something to be stressed about, the guy actually in the title battle, who is in bed still recovering from a crash. so goodbye lando, i’m going to go take care of my friend who actually cares about me and can talk to me without belittling me.”

she sweeped out of the restaurant, the waiter at the entrance saw her coming and passed her the carpaccio. the heat of monaco was sweltering but the drama between her and her teammate was heating up even more.

present.

y/n was still none the wiser about how she felt about lando, even all these years later. something inside of her wanted to reach out to him, reassure him that he was good enough, especially after how 2024 had panned out, but then the memories of their time together at mclaren come flooding back and she feels content with her silence.

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texts between y/n y/ln (bold) and charles leclerc (italics)

little birdy told me you’re back in monaco

by little birdy i mean your instagram post

omg have you considered a career switch to being a detective?

you’re mean

anyway!

cocktail night at mine tonight

i guess you can bring your losers too

yes that includes ollie before kimi asks

wow that’s a big assumption that i’m going to say yes

drinking on my dime? when have you ever said no?

you have a good point

i’ll be there at 8 - losers in tow

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“we get to go to a cocktail night at charles? oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

kimi squealed down the phone to y/n, “hold on let me tell ollie, we’ve got to get ready!”

y/n could hear him shuffling through their shared flat, “it doesn’t start for another like three hours kimi!”

the two boys had started excitedly discussing outfits and which cocktails are the ‘cool’ ones.

“we’ll swing by yours at 7:45, be ready we won’t wait.”

y/n hung up and turned to max smiling, they were so cute. the two of them had been curled up on the couch with the cats for the majority of the afternoon as y/n was catching up on sleep. the brit turned to max,

“oh i forgot to tell you,” max perked up, “guess who came to my apartment after the GQ thing?”

max shrugged, throwing a toy for jimmy.

“lewis.”

“hamilton?”

“yeah!”

max’s eyes sharpened, “why would he be at yours?”

“wouldn’t you know? you’re the one who gave him my address,” y/n replied, trying to make eye contact with max who was avoiding her gaze.

“yeah i thought he was going to send you like condolence flowers or something not show up unannounced?”

both of them had sat up at this point. brando was sat between them, looking between them confused.

“he showed up and complimented my dress. i asked him if he was sad he missed me at mercedes and he like proper leaned in and asked what i could possibly teach him? kissed my hand and left. it was weird.”

y/n laughed as she recounted the story but max wasn’t laughing.

“it’s funny max, you’re meant to laugh.”

max forces out a sarcastic laugh.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing. i just think it’s weird. food for thought.”

“don’t worry he won’t replace you. you’ll always be my favourite.”

max smiled at that. he piled on top of her, with brando squished in the middle.

“you’ll always stay at mine in monaco right? i’ll always be your best friend on the grid?”

“always,” y/n said, tucking one of max’s hairs behind his ear, “beside where else would i stay? in kimi and ollie’s bachelor pad? i’d rather die”

max let out a laugh and let his head fall on y/n’s chest, her hands immediately tangling in his hair.

“i’m sorry for that. i just love you and our bond, i get jealous that mr seven titles might steal you away.”

“away from you? they’d have to take me kicking and screaming. you’re the only one who had my address, you’re the only one i spoke to in the three years. don’t think i’ll ever not have you first.”

the cocktail party was nearing, but the pair were content to stay tangled on the couch, with a grumpy brando tucked in between them. outside of the apartment, the ghosts of monaco still lingered. maybe it was a good thing charles had a weird obsession with cocktails and his at home bar, y/n could use some liquid courage tonight.

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charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly and 2,304,667 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: it’s been three years and she still can’t mix drinks.

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user1: war is officially over

user2: i hope nothing bad happened between them but it is stuck in my mind that they didn’t talk in the three years

user3: i’m hoping she just flat out wasn’t speaking to anyone but max and charles did nothing bad

user4: his tribute post is still up which others can’t say so

kimiantonelli: i think her drinks are just right!

yourusername: i think we’re gonna work so well together

kimiantonelli: i think so toooooooooo

olliebearman: he’s just really drunk?

yourusername: so he’s not always like this?

olliebearman: loud? not really. but hanging off every word you say? yeah that’s pretty normal

user5: oh how i’ve missed my beautiful wife

user6: lando’s beautiful wife

user7: nuh uh george’s

user8: what about the guy who actually posted it

user9: i actually think you all should kill yourselves!

yourusername: i’m really not that bad you just have bad tolerance

charles_leclerc: i have measuring tools right there and you insist on doing the ‘y/n pour’

yourusername: does the ‘y/n pour’ get the party started or not?

pierregasly: yes because everyone is pissed by 9pm

yourusername: is that not the aim of a party

charles_leclerc: this is a sophisticated soiree - i even bought olives for this

yourusername: oh please

maxverstappen1: i think it would be funnier to watch everyone drunk stumbling around y/n

charles_leclerc: okay well we’d all be a bit more chill if you didn’t gatekeep her for three years

maxverstappen1: don’t care 😛

user10: max is the level of unbothered i need to be right now

user11: he’s on necks even in the off season

user12: so who else is to come?

user13: please please please let the brits be there i need my dose of y/nlando

user14: they're meant to be i swear

user15: oh my sweet summer child

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

fin.

note: enjoy my quick updates while you can i am back at my big girl job tomorrow :((((( but i will try to keep up with this pace where i can!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn

[cybrasigilism]

Could I request a nsfw fic of soft dom thanos x reader reassuring them because they feel shy during intimacy? (I’m such a sucker for soft doms☹️) btw I love love your work ur one of my favorite writers :3

aww i’m so honoured! thank you so much for the love 😘

Judge Judy (Thanos/Player 230 X Reader)

warning: smut (omg someone sound the alarm bells) | not proofread | lowercase intended | ooc thanos? (writing him a lot softer than i think he would be) | protection not specified (don’t rely on the pullout method pulease) | praise | soft dom!thanos | reader has female genitalia | PiV

character: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

A/N: it lowkey felt strange to write thanos super soft n’ sweet? i can get behind a gentler version of him, don’t get me wrong! and thank you so much again for your kind words :) hoping i did your request justice! (+ the title of the fic is taken from a Tyler, the Creator song title, please check it out Judge Judy is really good)

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

─────⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ─────

you were beyond ashamed of yourself.

here was your boyfriend, putting down his all for you, and you still couldn’t escape your mousey state, still hiding away as much as possible in that shell of yours. even as he had his hand between your thighs, working absolute magic, you couldn’t muster up a moan. you were absolutely horrified of making any noise. sure there was the occasional gasp for air and slight moan but you held back as much as possible; gripping the sheets, biting your lip, anything to stop that voice of yours coming out. you almost slipped up when he started kissing your neck, leaving hickeys anywhere he spent a particularly long time on.

it got to a point where enough was enough for thanos.

he was desperate to hear you, he wanted so badly to draw moans and whines from your lips, but you were positively petrified. before he moved forward to the actual sex part of the ordeal, he pulled away, now looming over you as you laid there, wide eyed and just so quiet.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he asked, looking you up and down. you exhaled sharply, looking away in shame. “i’m sorry, i’m just..nervous, that’s all.” he cocked his head to the side, eyebrows crinkling upwards in a look of concern. “nervous? for what? we’ve done this before..” he had every right to be confused, you knew that. if you could get naked in front of him, why was your voice where you drew the line? “was it something i did?” he wondered, and you felt your heart break into a million pieces.

“no! god no, i just..” you started, feeling your shoulders tense as you found yourself scavenging for words that should have come all too easily to you. “i don’t want to be obnoxious..?” the look of concern on thanos’s face slowly let a smile creep through and he chuckled a bit, you felt your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. “don’t laugh!” you cry out, covering your face. “i’m sorry! i’m sorry, i just wasn’t expecting that, that’s all.” he explained, calming down. he grabbed your hands, moving them down from your face, able to make eye contact once more.

“be obnoxious all you like,” he started, his gaze had become softer than you’d seen it before, “you don’t understand how badly i need to hear you.” you gulped, grasping his hands in return. “i don’t…i don’t think i know how…” you felt your eyes shift again, you didn’t know how? he took your chin to redirect your line of sight once again. “if that’s all it is, i can help you.” he assured, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease. “just follow my lead, okay sweetheart?” you nodded, leaning forward to initiate a kiss, to which thanos happily accepted.

this time, you weren’t gonna hold back. you were terrified, sure. but you were not gonna hold back.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

and hold back you did not. fuck, you didn’t even know you were capable of such sounds. from the moment he thrusted into you, you were more vocal than either of you knew possible. thanos was certainly not disappointed, he had gotten more vocal in response too. you know he had told you to follow his lead, but now it seemed you had taken the role of leader.

“there ya’ go, that’s my girl.” he praised as he bottomed out once again in your tight cunt, maintaining a steady pace as he pumped in and out of you. you couldn’t imagine forming words at this point, he consumed all your thoughts, ridding you of the ability to form intelligible dialogue. “god, you have such pretty moans, fuck.”

his relentless praise caused you to clench around his cock, which made him make sluttier sounds than you, which was currently saying a lot. with your newfound voice, an endless cycle of pure ecstasy laid ahead, and it was better than any drug in that cross that thanos wore.

─────⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ─────

apologies that this one is shorter than the others, but i felt it was best short and sweet! thanks for reading and for the recommendation! as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my writing is appreciated and requested!

have a good rest of your day/night lovelies!💋

Tags: @gongyoosgf @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga

[magicalgirlfia]

Anyways here’s a list of thinks I things about this story

(Spoilers, obviously)

Marina speaks in a combination of hiragana and katakana in Japanese, but she doesn’t in the story because she’s speaking Octarian in-universe.

More conformation that Marina is seen as a celebrity in the domes(!!!)

I already mentioned this once, but I love how we get more Acht characterization. How they show how much they care about Marina with their actions. How they put a lot of thought and analysis into what they say and do. How they burn to death if they’re not surrounded by moldy boxes. They have this inexplicable autistic aura in a way I can’t describe.

They gave the octopus gender dysphoria. I don’t know how else you can read their reasoning for not liking it when their picture is taken.

The speculation station is back, but I wonder if Acht regrets that they chose to walk away from Marina at the end. I wonder.

Something something Acht rebels against society and Marina who exceeds societal expectations but both are social outcasts in different ways

Probably not intentional but the line about how they assume Marina wouldn’t want to bother them with things that weren’t music related reminded me of how after they got sanitized they couldn’t think about anything but making music.

Again, probably another throwaway line but. What if Acht not malnourished because they’re a zombie. What if they just forget to eat.

The layout of octo valley having a dirty lake is interesting to me. Why would you need that. Maybe since other octarians don’t shift between forms they can go into water? I bet there’s some random concept art out there that confirms or denies this.

I do not think that Acht is jealous of Pearl and I really hope that won’t become the prevailing fandom sentiment. I think that it’s probably weird seeing your childhood friend/crush (I could go either way and personally see it as ambiguous myself, as non-committal as that answer is) and her girlfriend flirting while the only other person in the room is some random octoling who does not talk.

But I refuse to believe that there are people who genuinely think that an inarguably queer character is homophobic and those jokes were always weird and not funny, so if this is what makes those jokes go away then so be it.

The fact that the dome is made of fucked up scaffolding is cool too. To my understanding, the bases are like Octo Valley and Octo Canyon while the domes are the hub worlds in between them.

By the way, Acht says “クソ [kuso]” quite a bit. Despite the word being able to be translated to anything from “aw man” to “fucking hell”, the fact that they say it in katakana gives it a sharper vibe. What I’m saying is that there were multiple times where, if I were translating something like Guilty Gear, Acht would’ve said “fuck”. Thank you for your time.

I think there is a point in time where you look at the same information for so long that you start reading too much into it. I bet half of what I just wrote reads as the ramblings of a madman but whatever.

Regardless, thank you for all of the lovely words and support. Acht is one of my all-time favorite fictional characters and I’m glad more people are starting to see what I see in them and maybe won’t water them down to their relationships with other characters I mean whoops who said that. Oh, and for the record there will be more Bankara Walker translations.

A translation of the short story about Marina and Acht featured in Bancala Walker has been completed! You can read it here:

Thanks to @3600frames and @mossible for transcribing the story and @rassicas for editing.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I know I've written about Daryl x reader in a relationship, but I'm rewatching The Walking Dead and UGH I love him...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Good

Taurus Sun, Scorpio Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・The perfect example of your marriage is that scene from Yellowstone at the bar. Here's the link. Warnings: Violence :)

・Yes, so you and Daryl have a very close relationship - it has taken you a long time to get to this point.

・But marriage meant you two would be staying together for life. And Daryl knew that. No one was taking you away from him.

・You two met at the very beginning; in the camp with Lori, Carl, Carol, Dale, Andrea, Shane, Glenn etc.

・You abhorred Merle and gave him as much as you could - cussing him out, calling out his actions etc. You were always right but Merle was Merle.

・And you grouped Daryl with his brother; although he didn't say much.

・When Merle wasn't around, you actually got the time to see Daryl differently.

・He was really growing on you.

・You had no idea that he was wrestling with certain feelings as well.

・Your relationship was ... a slowburn to say the least. But you always looked out for each other. Made sure one another had enough food and water.

・There developed a constant between the two of you. Where one went, the other wasn't far behind. Especially when the group would split up

・You always found your way back to each other

・And yet, neither of you could see how much the other cared. Even though the whole group - even the new members - could see it.

・Though he comes off as rough and gruff to most, Daryl would have a soft spot for you. You’d be the only one who gets to see his gentler, more vulnerable side.

・

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Daryl was anxious all day, you even saw his hands shake before he saw it and shoved them in his pockets.

・You were worried; he never kept anything from you. Not even when you were just best friends.

・So you went to Carol, she shrugged her shoulders and gave you that knowing look. It calmed your own nerves down, because when Daryl is anxious; you are tenfhold.

・That night you were getting ready for watch, but a knock came at the door.

・It was Michonne.

"Hey, you wanna come in? I'm gonna start my shift soon but I can make us something tea?"

"It's okay, and don't worry about your shift; I have something for you to do."

"Oh okay, sure."

・You followed Michonne past the gardens, the crops and up to the doors of Alexandria and out into the nearby forest.

"We ugh, made sure the area was clear. You don't need to worry about a thing."

・She gave you one of her knowing smiles and you knew something was up...it made you nervous.

・Once Michonne disappeared, you heard the crunching of leaves.

・Quickly you whipped out your knife and swiped as you turned, only to be met by a large hand grabbing your arm.

"Thought I taught ya better than tha'" Daryl said, letting go of your arm and giving you a smile

"You did. I knew it was you. Heavy boots were giving me a heads up."

・It was then that you noticed his appearance; washed, with a clean black button up shirt, and a fresh pair of jeans.

・You quirked an eyebrow.

"What is this Dixon?"

Hesitating, Daryl rubbed the back of his neck with his calloused hand, eyes darting briefly to the ground before meeting yours.

“Been thinkin’,” he started, shifting his weight between one leg to the other. “’Bout us… and all the shit we've gone through...”

You stepped closer to him. Closing the gap. And your heart started pumping a whole lot faster.

"-You know I ain’t good with words,” he muttered in a low voice. “Specially ain’t good at all this… romantic stuff. But you—you’re the best thing...that has ever happened to me. Hell, you're the only thing that makes sense in this goddamn world.”

・Your cheeks started to redden but you let him talk

From his pocket, Daryl pulled out something small and clenched in his hand, his fingers trembling just slightly.

You let out a soft, "oh." Thinking this day would never come.

When he opened his hand, there it was—a simple, gold ring.

“I know it ain’t much,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's perfect," the tears had started to fall now. You didn't even notice you had begun to cry.

Daryl sniffed, not realising he had shed a few tears as well. "...I just want you to know… you’re my family now. Always have been.”

He held the ring out to you.

"I don't know how long we have in this world. But I know I wanna spend it with you."

There was a moment of silence. One you let hang in the air, not truly believing this was happening.

"So… what d’ya say?”

・The look on his face was pure and full of love.

"God I love you Daryl Dixon."

・Slipping the ring on your finger, you realised how comfortably it fit. You gave Daryl a knowing look and he gave you a sheepish one.

"...measured your finger when you were sleepin'...also had help from Carol..."

You couldn't help but laugh.

"You know I'm getting you one, right? I want everyone to know you're taken. That Daryl Dixon is mine."

"Wouldn't expect anything else."

・Then he kissed like it was your very first and last kiss.

The kiss was unlike anything you’d ever felt—raw, deep, and so full of emotion that it left you breathless. His lips claimed yours with an intense passion.

His hands trembled slightly, and cradled your face. Holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world; well, to him you were.

Pulling apart, he rested his forget against your own and whispered:

“Ain’t never lettin’ you go.”

In that moment, the world outside could have crumbled, and it wouldn’t have mattered. All that existed was you and him.

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Being married to Daryl Dixon meant having someone completely and utterly loyal to you.

・He calls you his family; and when he does so, you know it comes from a place of deep sincerity and respect.

・Instead of grand romantic displays, Daryl shows his love in quiet ways, like fixing something for you, preparing food, or just staying by your side during tough times.

・Daryl would be the ultimate protector, keeping you safe at all costs.

・You have your own place together. Not too far from everyone but secluded enough that you feel independent

・A common part of your nightly routine is cuddling up together on the couch and eventually falling asleep. (Daryl already having locked all the doors and has weapons around the house - just in case. He's not leaving anything to chance.)

・You've both shared everything you know about survival with one another.

・One of your ideas was to make a book about it. How to survive in this mess of a world; Daryl has fully encouraged it. He said it would come in handy for the next generations...

・Daryl thrives in the quiet moments of your marriage—sitting together by a fire, riding his motorcycle with you behind him, working on something side by side in comfortable silence.

・He also has a way of surprising you with such tenderness. E.g., brushing hair from your face or resting his forehead against yours in silent appreciation.  

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"Look at that stupid dumbass man, ha! Oh shit that's my dumbass-" (Daryl)

Short & bossy x Tall & follows them around

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

"Why Are You Babying Me?" (Daryl) x "'Cause I Know You Like It" (You)  

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Forced Proximity

Strong Feelings (Thinking It's Hate - WRONG It's Love)

Enemies to Lovers  

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Sex On Fire by Kings of Leon

Into My Arms by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

One More Hour by Tame Impala

[strawberrykidneystone]

mechanic sevika

ty for requesting @sunflowerwinds ILY

a/n: i only know basics about cars so here's something that actually happened to my shit ass car LMAO

INSPIRED BY THIS

while you were pulling out of the parking lot from your weekly errands, you heard some sputtering from your car

it freaked you out a little bit, but then it went away so you ignored it for now

then the battery icon popped up

pulling into an auto parts shop, you had the cashier check your battery only to see coolant splashed all over the place

he said that your battery was fine, but your serpentine belt had snapped

whatever that meant

you felt nauseous, worried about how much this was going to cost

not to mention that most mechanics were shutting down for the night

the guy offered to take you home in his car in a flirty way, which was disgusting since he was well into his 60s, MAYBE 70s and ugly as fuck

as you backed away from him and gripped your car door handle, she appeared

like your knight in a shining jumpsuit

"we already chatted earlier, she's coming over to my shop to get her car fixed, she doesn't need a ride," she said firmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as she walked up from behind you

she had heard everything in the store and the story you rambled out, figuring out the problem pretty quickly

she also knew the owner was a bit of a creep

the owner quickly nodded and scurried back inside with his equipment

you deflated with a sigh of relief, but still needed your goddamn car fixed

"thanks, i definitely didn't want to get in a car with him..."

"no problem sweetheart, and i was serious about taking your car in. i got my truck right here and my shop is just up the street." she offered and respectfully took her arm off your shoulders, the two fo you now facing each other

your eyes widened as you shook your head and started stuttering, "oh i couldn't its probably past your working hours and i don't want to be an inconvenience-"

she chuckled and held up a hand to stop your rambles, "it's fine doll. i was planning on working late anyways and your belt's an easy fix, you’ll be in and out in half an hour."

you thought it over in your head and accepted her offer, grabbing your essentials out of your car before she hooked yours up to her bright red truck

she opened the passenger door for you and offered her hand, which you happily took as you climbed up the tall truck

she had a pair of fuzzy dice hanging over the central mirror and the truck had a smell of stale cigarettes and weed despite the (probably old) air freshener hanging in the middle of the dice

the seat covers were leopard printed and faded, but added to the overall charm of the car

the two of you sat in a semi-awkward silence as the radio played old divorce dad rock

as sevika backed up your car into the garage with her arm reaching around the back of your seat, you had to ignore the blush that was creeping up you cheeks

you hopped out of her truck as she unhooked your car, parking hers out into the parking lot

pacing in the lobby and glancing at the window to the garage to see her working on your car, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand

if you weren’t so stressed about your car you would’ve taken time to appreciate how hot she looked more

sevika walked into the lobby with a reassuring smile once she was done and wiped her hands off with a grimy towel, “should be good as new sweetheart.”

she grabbed a post-it note off of her desk and scribbed her number down onto it, holding it out to you across the counter after you paid for the part, “call me if you have any other problems with your car.”

“could i call you just because i want to,” you blurted out before you could even process what you were saying, a deep flush covering your cheeks

sevika raised her eyebrows and smirked, rubbing her chin with a crooked finger, “ ‘course doll, i’d love that.”

you aimlessly nodded and smiled, bumping into the doorframe on your way out to your newly fixed car

driving home, you couldn’t help but hope that you broke down on the side of the road

a/n: WHO WANTS A FUCKED ON HER TRUCK AFTER HOURS FIC‼️‼️‼️

taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all @fandoms-will-be-the-death-of-me @sevikasfan @lez-zuha @comfortripley @sunflowerwinds

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

BUZZED!

formula one x male!reader

request: Okay okay, here me out, Male!reader gets a buzzcut and the drivers find out via like instagram or something and they get really whiny abt it.

summary: you get a buzz cut without telling your boyfriend

warnings: initial instagram post is just for reference + reader only posts whichever one applies to you most!, swearing, playful arguing

contains: alex albon, lance stroll, + lewis hamilton

youruser has added to their story!

written: time for a change ✂️

alex albon:

"WHAT DID YOU DOOOOOOOO?" alex yelped as soon as he walked through the door of your shared apartment.

you had just been lounging on the sofa, scrolling through social media to pass the time. you jumped slightly at your boyfriend's shouting. "what? what did i do?"

alex rounded the corner into the living room and pointed at your hair with a pout.

"that! what did you?!"

"alex, i just cut my hair." you chuckled, staying slumped on the sofa.

alex whined. "how could you do this to me???"

"you're so dramatic, oh my fucking god." you rolled your eyes lightheartedly. as much as you loved your boyfriend, he sure knew how to be dramatic. "it's not that bad?"

"yes it is!" alex insisted. "what am i supposed to do now when i want your attention?!"

"ask for it like a normal person?"

"it's like you don't even know me." alex huffed, flopping down on the sofa beside you.

you laughed quietly and put your phone away. "it will grow back, y'know?"

your boyfriend tilted his head to look at you with a a pout. "and what am i supposed to do until then?"

"cope?"

he whined again and poked you in the ribs, making you squirm slightly. "you're so mean."

"yeah, well, it's not getting reattached," you argued. alex ran his hand over the shaved hair with a sigh. "better get used to it, baby."

"fine ... but never again, okay?"

"no promises."

lance stroll:

the second you walked into your boyfriend's hotel room, he was right in front of you. lance crossed his arms and pouted at you.

"uh-oh," you murmured.

a sheepish smile crossed your lips. you tentatively stepped forward until you were close enough to pull lance into a hug, which you were very pleased to say he didn't reject. hopefully that meant he wasn't too upset.

"why did you have to get a buzz cut?" lance whined, pushing your shoulder.

you hummed. the truth of it was that the haircut had been an impulsive action rather than a conscious decision, but ... well, it was done now. "it's just hair, baby."

"no, it's not," lance argued with a pout. "it's your hair. which you let me play with and wash and put bows in and stuff."

"yeah, i hope you understand i would literally never let anybody else touch my hair as much as you do," you pointed out. was a part of you hoping to distract lance with a sweet statement? perhaps. but he didn't need to know that.

lance paused for a moment. he seemed torn between being sad and whiny about your hair, and being happy about what you said. sue him. he liked to feel special. "... then why did you cut it?"

"because i wanted to?" you shrugged. your hands dropped to lance's waist and tugged him closer, making him squeak quietly. "it's summer and it's hot and i don't need a fur coat on my head?"

"but what about the bows?" lance pouted at you.

a little grin tugged at your lips. "well, i can put them in your hair?"

your boyfriend seemed to short circuit at the idea of you putting bows in his hair. his lips parted in surprise, before his expression morphed into a goofy grin. "okay."

lewis hamilton:

the first reaction you got from lewis about your haircut was a text. he must've already been close to home, but apparently he felt the need to freak out about you getting a buzz cut as early as possible.

you cut your hair?

... yes?

it hadn't taken you long to reply. a minute at most. evidently, that was long enough for your boyfriend to get to your door. he flung it open, a dramatic frown on his face. "why?"

"hello to you too," you muttered, standing up to greet your boyfriend with a kiss. "because it was getting in my eyes, lew."

"so?" lewis raised an eyebrow at you.

you scoffed playfully, thinking he was just having a joke and not being serious. "so i couldn't see."

"so?" lewis repeated.

not joking, apparently.

"i can see?" he poked at the now-short strands with a wary expression. "i'd lead you places??"

"lewis."

your boyfriend pouted. he let out a dramatic sigh and turned away from you. "fine, i guess you like your vision more than you love me, then."

knowing he was just milking it, you wrapped your arms around lewis from behind and kissed his temple cheekily. "yes! glad you understand."

"... brat."

"love you too, lew."

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: anon i am SO hearing you out (can you guys tell i love whiny boys yet)

comments + reblogs appreciated!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[elryuse]

Yandere Wonyoung x Male Reader

Wonyoung & y/n have been friends since childhood and promised to get married when they grow up..but since Wonyoung became an idol and got great success, she start to forget y/n and said rude things to y/n..at the same time, she's in a relationship with a male idol..y/n knows about it and feels very disappointed and slowly forgets Wonyoung

a few months later, Wonyoung compared between that male idol with y/n and felt that y/n was the best..after that, she start tracking y/n & willing to kill anyone who stood in her way.

The Price of a Broken Promise

Yandere Wonyoung X Male Reader

The rain poured heavily outside as Wonyoung sat alone in her luxurious apartment, staring blankly at the dim glow of her phone. News articles, tweets, and viral videos filled the screen, all focused on the same scandal: San, her boyfriend, caught cheating with another idol. The images of him smiling, holding someone else’s hand, sent a sharp pang through her chest.

The betrayal stung, but it wasn’t just San’s actions that haunted her tonight. As she curled up on the couch, her mind drifted back to a promise she had made long ago, to someone who had once meant everything to her.

“Y/n,” she whispered his name for the first time in years, the sound foreign yet painfully familiar.

She closed her eyes, letting the memories resurface. She saw his shy smile, the way his hand would always reach for hers as they walked home together. He had been her anchor, her unwavering support during the uncertain days of their childhood.

But she had let him go.

Her fame as an idol had taken over her life, pulling her further and further away from the boy who had once been her entire world. It wasn’t just time or distance that had severed their bond—it was her own selfishness.

“Wonyoung, don’t forget me, okay?” Y/n had said once, his voice soft but earnest.

“I could never forget you,” she had replied with a laugh, brushing off his concern. But she had forgotten him—forgotten their promise, forgotten his love.

And worse, she had pushed him away.

Her chest tightened as she remembered their last conversation, months before she debuted. He had called her late at night, worried about her.

“Wonyoung, are you okay? You haven’t replied to my texts,” he had said, his voice full of concern.

“I’m fine, Y/n. I’m just busy,” she had replied coldly.

“I just wanted to remind you I’m here for you—always.”

“I don’t need you,” she had snapped, her frustration boiling over. “Stop calling me.”

She could still hear the silence that followed, the hurt in his voice when he finally said, “Okay. I understand.”

That had been the last time she heard from him.

Now, years later, she realized the enormity of her mistake. Y/n had been the one constant in her life, the one person who had loved her unconditionally. And she had thrown him away for a fleeting romance with someone who didn’t even care enough to stay faithful.

The guilt hit her like a tidal wave. She grabbed her phone, her hands trembling as she searched for his number.

Her heart sank when the call didn’t go through.

“The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”

“No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. She tried again, but the same robotic message greeted her.

“Why did I let you go?” she sobbed, clutching the phone to her chest.

The days that followed were a blur. Wonyoung couldn’t focus on anything—rehearsals, photoshoots, interviews. Her manager noticed the change.

“Wonyoung, what’s going on with you?” he asked one afternoon, his tone sharp. “You’re distracted, and it’s starting to show.”

“I just need some time,” she mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

“Time for what? You have responsibilities, a career—”

“I need to find someone,” she interrupted, her voice trembling.

Her manager stared at her, baffled. “What are you talking about? You don’t have time for this.”

“I don’t care!” she snapped, standing abruptly. “I’ve already lost the most important person in my life because of this career. I’m not losing him forever.”

“Wonyoung, be reasonable—”

“I’m done listening to reason,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m going to find Y/n.”

She spent weeks searching, reaching out to mutual friends, scouring social media, even looking through old emails in the hope of finding some trace of him. It was through one of those emails that she found an old message from him, dated two years ago.

Wonyoung,

I know you’re busy, and I know your life is different now. But I just wanted to remind you that I’m still here. If you ever need me, just call.

- Y/n

Her tears blurred the screen as she read his words. He had been there for her, even when she didn’t deserve it. And now he was gone.

Wonyoung’s search eventually led her to New York, where she had heard he had moved. She didn’t know what she would say if she found him. She didn’t even know if he would want to see her. But she had to try.

When she finally knocked on the door of a small apartment in the city, her heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear the rain that drenched her.

The door opened, and there he was.

“Y/n,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He stared at her in shock, his expression unreadable. “Wonyoung?”

Before she could stop herself, tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Y/n stepped back, his face hardening. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you,” she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“Why now?” he asked, his tone cold. “After all this time, why now?”

She collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. “I was selfish. I hurt you, and I let you go. I let everything go, and I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone.”

“You don’t get to just walk back into my life,” he said, his voice sharp. “You don’t get to show up here and expect me to forgive you.”

“I know,” she said, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But please… just listen to me.”

Y/n clenched his fists, his emotions a whirlwind of anger, pain, and something else he couldn’t quite name. “Do you have any idea what you put me through? You made me feel like I was nothing. Like I didn’t matter.”

“You mattered,” she said desperately. “You mattered more than anything. I was just too blind to see it.”

He shook his head, turning away. “Why are you really here, Wonyoung? Is it guilt? Regret? What do you want from me?”

“I want you,” she said, her voice trembling. “I want to make things right. I want to keep the promise we made.”

Y/n froze, her words cutting through him like a knife. For so long, he had dreamed of hearing her say those words. But now that she had, it felt hollow.

“You don’t get to fix this with a few words,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Trust doesn’t work like that. Love doesn’t work like that.”

“I know,” she said, her voice breaking. “I know it’ll take time. But I’ll wait. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Y/n looked at her, searching her face for sincerity. For the first time, he saw it—the raw, unfiltered regret and love she had buried for so long.

But trust wasn’t something that could be rebuilt overnight. And love, once broken, wasn’t so easily mended.

Wonyoung returned to Seoul after her meeting with Y/n, but she wasn’t the same. The regret and longing that had once been a dull ache had transformed into something far more potent. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face—his indifferent expression, his cold tone. The man she had once known as her Y/n was no longer hers.

And that thought drove her mad.

She sat in her darkened apartment, scrolling through her phone for the hundredth time. She had found his social media accounts, though they were sparse. His life seemed simple now—pictures of cityscapes, books, and an occasional group photo with friends. But it was the women in those group photos that caught her attention.

Who were they? Friends? Coworkers? Or something more?

Her grip on the phone tightened, her chest heaving with anger at the mere thought of Y/n laughing with another girl, confiding in someone else, smiling for someone else.

“No,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. “He’s mine. He promised me. We promised each other.”

Her thoughts spiraled, and with each passing day, her obsession grew.

Wonyoung began to neglect her career. She would cancel rehearsals, ignore her manager’s calls, and avoid public appearances. Instead, she spent her days tracking Y/n’s life from afar. She learned the names of his coworkers, memorized his daily routines, and even discovered where he liked to eat lunch.

One day, she booked a flight back to New York, unable to stay away any longer.

Y/n was sitting in a café near his office, typing away on his laptop, when he felt a familiar presence. He looked up, and his heart sank.

“Wonyoung?”

She stood there, her eyes red-rimmed but filled with a desperate kind of determination.

“I needed to see you,” she said softly, taking a seat across from him without waiting for an invitation.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone laced with frustration.

“I couldn’t stay away,” she admitted. “I’ve been thinking about you every day. I need to make this right.”

Y/n sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Wonyoung, we talked about this. I told you I needed time.”

“I know,” she said quickly, her voice trembling. “But I can’t wait. I can’t let you go. You’re all I think about, Y/n. I can’t… I can’t live without you.”

Her words unsettled him. There was something unhinged in the way she spoke, in the way her hands clenched the edge of the table as if holding on for dear life.

“You can’t force this,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “You need to move on.”

“Move on?” she repeated, her eyes widening. “How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Wonyoung, we were kids. Things are different now. You need to understand that.”

Her lips quivered, and tears welled up in her eyes. “No. No, you’re wrong. Things don’t have to be different. We can fix this. I can fix this.”

Y/n shook his head, his frustration mounting. “You’re not listening to me. This isn’t healthy—for either of us.”

She stared at him, her tears falling freely. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered.

But he did mean it. He stood, grabbing his laptop and bag. “I think you should leave, Wonyoung. Please don’t come back.”

She watched him walk away, her heart shattering all over again. But as the pain consumed her, a darker resolve began to take shape.

Wonyoung sat in her hotel room that night, replaying their conversation over and over in her mind. Y/n was pushing her away, but she couldn’t let him. He was hers. He had always been hers.

Her thoughts turned to the women she had seen in his photos. She imagined them laughing with him, touching him, taking her place. The idea was unbearable.

“No one else can have him,” she muttered to herself, pacing the room.

Her mind raced with possibilities, each one more twisted than the last. If Y/n wouldn’t come back to her willingly, she would make him. And if anyone tried to stand in her way, they would regret it.

The next day, Wonyoung followed Y/n to his office. She waited outside, watching as he chatted with a female coworker—a petite woman with a kind smile. Wonyoung’s nails dug into her palms as jealousy consumed her.

When the woman walked to a nearby café for lunch, Wonyoung followed her. She cornered her in the alley behind the café, her expression cold and menacing.

“You need to stay away from him,” Wonyoung said, her voice low and threatening.

The woman looked confused. “Excuse me?”

“Y/n,” Wonyoung clarified, stepping closer. “He’s mine. Don’t think for a second that you can take him from me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the woman stammered, backing away.

Wonyoung grabbed her wrist, her grip like iron. “Listen carefully,” she hissed. “If I see you near him again, you’ll regret it.”

The woman nodded quickly, her face pale with fear. Wonyoung released her and walked away, a twisted sense of satisfaction washing over her.

Y/n started noticing strange things in the following weeks. His coworkers seemed distant, avoiding him during breaks. One day, he found a bouquet of roses on his doorstep with a note that read, “You’re mine, forever.”

He knew who it was from.

Wonyoung’s obsession was spiraling out of control, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

He confronted her one evening, finding her waiting outside his apartment.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I just wanted to see you,” she said, her voice sweet but unsteady.

“This has to stop, Wonyoung. You’re scaring me.”

Her smile faltered. “I’m scaring you? Y/n, all I’ve done is love you. All I’ve ever wanted is to be with you.”

“This isn’t love,” he said firmly. “This is obsession.”

Her eyes darkened, and she stepped closer. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that. You don’t understand how much I need you, Y/n. I can’t live without you.”

“You need help,” he said, his voice softening. “Please, Wonyoung. Get help.”

Her expression twisted into one of rage and heartbreak. “I don’t need help. I need you. And I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

Y/n felt a chill run down his spine. He realized then just how far she was willing to go.

The obsession had consumed Wonyoung entirely. Every waking moment revolved around Y/n—what he was doing, where he was going, who he was with. She knew everything: the times he left for work, the café he liked to visit, the park where he occasionally went to clear his mind. Her network of eyes seemed endless. Every interaction, every smile he shared with someone else, ignited a storm of jealousy and fury within her.

But she couldn’t just watch anymore. She needed him. Completely.

It was a cold, quiet night when Wonyoung finally decided to act. She waited in the alley near Y/n’s apartment, cloaked in darkness. Her heart raced as she gripped the small vial in her hand, the contents a potent sedative she had procured after weeks of planning.

She knew his routine well enough to predict when he’d go to bed. The lights in his apartment flickered off around 11 PM. She waited another hour, ensuring he was deep in sleep before making her move.

Breaking into Y/n’s apartment was easier than she expected. She had studied his habits meticulously, noting how he often forgot to lock his balcony door. The quiet click of the door sliding open sent a chill down her spine, a mix of adrenaline and anticipation coursing through her.

She crept inside, her movements silent and calculated. His living room was dimly lit by the faint glow of the streetlights outside. Her gaze fell on a framed photo of him on the counter, and she couldn’t resist picking it up, her fingers trembling as she traced his face.

“You’ll understand soon,” she whispered to herself, setting the photo down.

Her footsteps were featherlight as she made her way to his bedroom. The door was ajar, and she pushed it open slowly, revealing Y/n’s sleeping form. He looked peaceful, his chest rising and falling steadily.

Wonyoung’s breath hitched. He was so close, so vulnerable.

She stepped closer, her hands trembling as she pulled out a syringe filled with the sedative. She had practiced this moment in her mind countless times, but the reality of it made her hands shake.

“I’m doing this for us,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

She knelt beside the bed, carefully brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake. Her heart pounded as she pressed the needle against his skin.

The prick of the needle woke Y/n. His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he was disoriented.

“W-Wonyoung?” he mumbled, his voice groggy.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she cooed, her voice soft and soothing. “Just relax.”

His gaze sharpened as he realized what was happening. “What… what are you doing?” he said, his voice slurred as the sedative began to take effect.

He tried to sit up, but his limbs felt heavy, his movements sluggish. Panic flashed in his eyes as he attempted to push her away.

“Wonyoung, stop,” he slurred, his strength fading.

“I can’t,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t let you leave me. I need you, Y/n. Don’t you see? We’re meant to be together.”

He struggled against her, his body weak but his mind racing. “This… isn’t love,” he managed to say, his words barely audible.

“It is,” she insisted, her voice breaking. “It’s the purest love there is. I’m doing this for us. For you.”

Y/n’s vision blurred as the drug fully took hold. His head lolled to the side, and his body went limp. The last thing he saw before everything went dark was Wonyoung’s tear-streaked face hovering over him, a mix of desperation and obsession etched into her features.

Wonyoung sat beside him for hours, her hand gently stroking his hair as he lay unconscious. She whispered promises to him, vowing to make him understand, to show him that they were destined to be together.

“You’ll see, Y/n,” she murmured. “You’ll realize that no one can love you the way I do. No one will ever understand you like I do.”

Her tears had dried, replaced by a chilling sense of determination. She had crossed a line, but she didn’t care. Nothing else mattered now—only him.

He was hers. And she would never let him go.

The news broke like wildfire across Korea: “Jang Wonyoung, the Diva of IVE, Has Gone Missing.”

Fans were devastated, flooding social media with hashtags, prayers, and theories. Was it an abduction? Had she run away to escape the pressures of fame? The police were tight-lipped, but the public was frantic. News outlets speculated endlessly, painting a picture of tragedy for one of Korea’s brightest stars.

But the truth was far darker.

Far from the glitz and glamour of Seoul, in a secluded countryside church, Wonyoung stood radiant in her wedding dress. The ornate lace fabric clung to her like a second skin, her beauty almost ethereal. Her lips curled into a serene smile, her dream finally realized.

Beside her stood Y/n, dressed in a formal suit, but his face betrayed no joy. His once-bright eyes were now dull, lifeless. The man who had fought so hard to escape his past had been subdued, stripped of his will. He moved robotically, his body weakened from the drugged haze that Wonyoung kept him in.

The church was empty, save for them. There were no friends, no family, no witnesses. It was exactly how Wonyoung wanted it. This moment wasn’t for the world—it was for them alone.

“You look so handsome, my love,” Wonyoung whispered, her voice tender as she adjusted his tie. “I’ve waited for this moment my entire life.”

Y/n’s lips twitched, but no words came. He had stopped resisting days ago. His silence didn’t bother Wonyoung anymore. She believed that, in time, he would come to accept her love again.

The officiant, a man Wonyoung had hired for discretion, cleared his throat and began the ceremony.

“Do you, Jang Wonyoung, take Y/n to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

Wonyoung’s eyes gleamed with joy. “I do.”

“And do you, Y/n, take Jang Wonyoung to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

Y/n remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. Wonyoung gently squeezed his hand, her nails digging into his skin.

“Answer him, my love,” she said sweetly, though her tone carried an edge.

“…I do,” Y/n muttered, his voice barely audible.

The officiant nodded. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Wonyoung turned to Y/n, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness. She cupped his face, forcing him to look at her.

“This is our beginning,” she whispered before pressing her lips to his in a possessive kiss.

The couple settled into their new home, a sprawling estate surrounded by high walls and dense forests. It was isolated, designed to keep the outside world away—and Y/n inside.

Wonyoung walked through the grand hallways, her arms wrapped tightly around Y/n’s as if afraid he might slip away. She beamed with contentment, her dream fully realized.

“Isn’t this perfect?” she said, her voice full of glee. “Just you and me, forever.”

Y/n didn’t respond. He walked alongside her, his steps heavy, his gaze empty. The man he once was had been consumed by her relentless obsession.

But to Wonyoung, it didn’t matter.

She had won.

No one else would ever have him. No one else could touch him. Y/n was hers—completely, irrevocably, eternally.

As they sat by the fireplace that night, Wonyoung rested her head on his shoulder, her smile serene.

“This is love,” she said softly, her fingers lacing through his. “And I’ll never let you go again.”

The flames crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows across the room. Outside, the world continued to mourn the disappearance of Jang Wonyoung. But inside, she was happier than she had ever been.

The end

[456-is-the-way]

Hi! I was wondering if you if you could do a smutty In-ho x fem! Reader x Gi-Hun. Something along the line of they are both pining and see each other go to talk to reader alone and decide to wait. In-ho talks to her during lights out and Gi-hun talks to her doing mingle. In the final fight, she goes with either in-ho or Gi-hun and the stand of at the end, ends with them deciding to truce for a moment and share reader.

A/n: OMG A smutty story with both the hottest daddies!? Yet people keep the requests coming because I have many more to write! I hope to post at least 3 stories a week only because I am returning to my job after my holiday vacation! ALSO regarding the TAGLIST IDK why it won't let me add people like some it won't bring their name up SO I am not sure how to fix that RIP Im sorry y'all!!! ALSO, late tonight or tomorrow my part 1 of my 4-part Gi-Hun story is coming out!! (Hints of In-ho x reader) will also be in the story! Next week I'll have 3 more requests stories done!

Trigger warning: SMUT

Squid Game Masterlist

In-ho x Reader x Gi-hun

Love and War

Being in the games was the last thing (Y/n) was expecting, or at least in a life-or-death situation. She took a breath, looking over the group she was lucky enough to be in. Gi-hun did not hide the looks in her direction. Her (e/c) orbs meet his. (Y/n) could feel her cheeks warm up as Gi-hun winked. She turned away, looking at the ground quickly. How could two people be so obvious in their lustful looks? Their group quickly picked up on their subtle hints, flirtatious works, mindful touches, and lustful gazes. However, it sparked a rivalry between Gi-hun and his newfound friendship with Young-Il. The other gentleman also expressed his feelings towards (Y/n), which did not go unnoticed. (Y/n) happily reciprocated the attention she received from both of these handsome bachelors. It was lights out, and as normal, their group gathered in one spot, taking turns on night shift duty. Many thought of them as one of the strongest teams for now. In-ho sighed deeply as he was woken by Jung-bae. “Your turn.” He whispered. In-ho only responded with a grunt getting up to take his place by (Y/n). In-ho looked over her figure. It honestly pained him to lie to (Y/n) of all people. While scouting for participants, he would collect all their data and reasoning for poor financial situations. He never showed favor or pity towards anyone until now. Why did it have to be her of all people?

“I can take watch by myself if you need me to. I want you to have all the rest. Especially for the next challenge… I am nervous to find out what it may be.” In-ho whispered. She gave him such a warm and loving smile. In-ho had not felt butterflies like this in his stomach in so long the feeling was almost foreign. The way her eyes would almost sparkle while gazing into his. In-ho felt his breath be taken away every time.

“No, I won't allow you to not have a partner. We agreed on pairs of two. I am going to be fine. I could say the same for you, Young-Il.” She gazed into his eyes and before anything else could be said In-ho leaned in kissing her deeply. (Y/n) gasped but did not pull back once his warm lips dominated hers. In-ho cupped her cheek before letting his hand trail down squeezing her beast. “W-Wait.” Her voice seemed weak from the desire but quickly In-ho stopped all his advances.

“Fuck (Y/n) I am so sorry if I hurt you.” His eyes showed nothing but absolute worry.

“Young-Il, you didn’t hurt me. I just. We cant I-”

“You love Gi-hun. Don’t you?” He asked.

She looked away rubbing her temples. “I am unsure who I like. I have feelings for you both but if we act out on them… If you or him dies I would never be able to get over your death, or is..” She leans against In-ho resting on his shoulder.

“I understand…I love you.”

“I… I love you as well.” (Y/n) whispered cuddling into him.

….

After the night the next game had started early that morning, and (Y/n) had not been expecting what was to come. As the game commenced it felt very intense making sure the groups had the correct amount of people in each room. They even teamed up with new players they clicked with instantly. As it began getting lower in numbers for each door (Y/n) became nervous. She felt Gi-hun grab her hand gently. “I got you.” He whispered. Once the merry-go-round stopped and the number was ‘2’ he instantly took off with her ultimately forgetting about any of the others. Even shamelessly (Y/n) did not even look back for In-ho. Once in the room the door instantly shut. The female leaned against the wall as Gi-hun was breathing heavily on the other side of the room, “Gi-hun, are you okay?”

Gi-hun did not bother to answer before walking over to (Y/n) and kissing her deeply. The female lets a shaken moan out as their bodies are pressed against each other. His hands hold her waist before lowering down her backside and cupping her ass. “G…Gi-hun, babe, we cant.” Her body was on fire for this handsome older man.

“You love me… I know you do.” He let you go resting his forehead against yours.

“I…I do love you. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you. I can’t be with you Gi-hun. I wont risk getting attached-”

“Is it because of Young-Il? Is that the true reason? I heard you both talking last night. I know you have feelings for him of some kind… I want to know if he-”

“No, my love it's not because of Young-Il… I care for you both but if I got too attached and lost either of you I… I wouldn't be able to ever move on.” When the doors unlocked she took his hand, “Talk later okay?”

Gi-hun nods walking out as their hand in hand. In-ho instantly noticed and sent a glare at Gi-hun who met his gaze with a stronger one.

…

(Y/n) was soaked in her friend's blood as she was on her knees. Gi-hun and Jung-Bae beside her on their knees. In front of them stood a man who organized the games. With a quick hand motion from the man in the black mask, Jung-Bae was pulled away. Gi-hun went to help but a gun was quickly pulled out.

“Don’t” (Y/n) begged, tearing up. Her eyes widen as the gun slowly is lowered.

“I love you (Y/n).” The Front Man whispered she glared into his eyes.

“I hate you.” She glared. In-ho took a moment before removing his mask. Both (Y/n) and Gi-hun gave his a look showing all their bundled up emotions. “You… are the Frontman. HOW COULD YOU!” (Y/n) cried loudly .

In-ho leans down, “My real name is In-ho, I joined yes, but I never expected to fall in love with you! Please… Let me have you before anything else happens… Gi-hun.” He turned to his friend who reluctantly nodded they both desired you and that over powered all current feeling. The triangle guard let Gi-hun free before leaving.

“Please lets forget about all of this. For a few moments.” Gi-hun adds agreeing with In-ho. What felt like eternity she agrees.

Gi-hun instantly pulled her against his frame smashing their lips together. In-ho kneels down pressing against her back side kissing up (Y/n)’s neck. The female moaned loudly into the kiss as her body is sandwiched between theirs. “Fuck.” She gasped as Gi-hun trailed down to the other side of her neck. In-ho proceeded to slides his large hands under her shirt cupping her bare breasts. Her nipples already were hard. “Ngh! (Y/n) whined as he pinch them roughly pulling her buds harshly.

“Take her shirt off.” In-ho growled.

“Slide her pants down.” Gi-hun adds. (Y/n) had no time to react before her shirt was being lifted and sweatpants pulled down swiftly. Once practically naked she puts a hand on their bulges rubbing both men. They let out a shaken groan each, Gi-hun’s voice held a submissive tone while In-ho growled dominantly. Their already hardening cocks were at full attention. Gi-hun’s leaking precum at the tip. In-ho leans his forhead against (Y/n)’s shoulder cock twitching as she worked both touch starved men.

“F-Fuck I’m close.” Gi-hun whined.

In-ho chuckled,” Baby slow down before he blows a load in your hands. Let us inside of you.”

“MMmm… But will b-both fit?” She asked inhaling as Gi-hun reached down feeling her soaking wet panties.

“Fuck you are soaked honey. Did jerking us off turn you on that much?.. Yes dear we will both fit.”

(Y/n) nods and spreads her legs, In-ho nods to Gi-hun, She arches, feeling both their cocks brushing her entrance. “AHH FUCK Gi-hun. In-ho!~” (Y/n) was held up by the men who began roughly thrusting into her tight and warm pussy.

“Fuck baby you are tight.” “Your pussy was made for your us.” “Going to fill you up.”

Both of their praises made the knot tighten inside of her. “FUCK!” She cried out as their cock meet the perfect rythem until she felt the euphoria hit all at once. Her pussy clams down making both men cum deep inside. The three now lay there panting in pleasure. (Y/n) closed her eyes.

“I love you both.” Her voice is strained. Gi-hun instantly responsed with a quick ‘I love you back’ .

In-ho sighed deeply kissing her cheek knowing nothing would be the same after this. He loved her too much.

[yoru-exe]

PHAINON ࣪ ִֶָ ⋆ . promise in vain

back then, you didn't understand why seers should maintain a neutral position, absolutely avoid from directly contributing to battle planning, are forbiddened to form strong connects with their associates and use their gift for personal gain. how you wished you've taken your master's teaching more seriously as you gazed into the near future of the war's outcome. your heart crumbled like amphoreus destined to fall to ruin, helpless to the sight of the man who you've been war counseled to laying lifeless on the ground, the light in his eyes extinguished.

you broke all the rules a seer should abide to at any circumstances. now, it's time to pay the price.

phainon walked across the strategic meeting room, inspecting the last of the details before the battle begun. you stood silently by his side, watching in longingness your silhouettes that seemed to dance on the wall. no harm could come to them, at least before the light goes out.

"now that we have all the support that we requested for, we can ensure the safety of the people should the enemy decided to break in from the west wall. if this happen, then i trust you to-".

"can you not go?".

the question spilled out of your mouth before you could stop it. the silence that followed was deafening.

"i'm afraid i don't understand what you're trying to say".

when you spoke again, your glassy eyes met his, tear threatened to spill, "can you not go to the war?".

the two of you rarely had any physical contact for as long as you've been associated with each other. perhaps it was just the unspoken rules you set; i help you, you help me, nothing else. but the instant he saw your heartbroken face, a sight he's not used to, his body moved instinctly to hold you in his arm, as he caressed your cheeks, wiping the fallen tears away, "you know i have to. but we've planned for this. i'll be fine".

"but what if you don't survive this?"

a hint of doubt crossed his face, but it's gone as fast as it came, replaced with a determined expression that you know he practised a million times to lie to even himself, "i'll make sure i will and come home to you".

if your thoughts and emotion weren't in such a messy state, you would have been more appreciative towards his confession. instead, you burst with the fear that you could no longer surpress, "but i saw you-".

you didn't get to finish your sentence as phainon pressed his lips on yours, sealing away whatever fate of his that he's aware you're not supposed to reveal. it didn't matter.

it didn't matter that he live or not.

what mattered is he made sure you know he meant it when he said he'll come home to you.

he continued to hold you firmly in his embrace after he pulled away. his expression was one of sincerity and calmness, like a hero ready to sacrifise himself knowing that he know it was a sacrifice that worth making.

"just wait for me, okay?"

⊹₊ author's note ₊⊹

nameless faces left me in SHAMBLE i need to cope, therefore this piece was born yea i think phainon is up for one heck of a nasty fate you know how greek myths love giving their heroes brutal death or whatever. if the story ended up on a completely different route than what i thought it would, please dont at me sob

[koishua]

ㅤ      ㅤ   𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀yarenim evde (my darling is home).ㅤ ওㅤ

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀hwang hyunjin fluff fem reader .ㅤ ও

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀1.121k words no warnings enjoy .ㅤ ও

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀he comes home after gda2025! .ㅤ ও

Stepping into the confines of the familiar apartment’s front doors, he waits for the elevator to arrive from the topmost floor. The quiet bell alerts him to its arrival, ready to whisk him away to the place he calls home. The characteristic music assigned to elevators is absent. Small blessings, since his entire day had been about blaring speakers and blinding lights. Some quiet time was much needed to ease his desperate ear drums and nothing can stand between him and the soft touches of his favourite person alive (there are quite a few people he would commit near war crimes to meet, but we do not verge there).

When you open the door just as he is about to reach for his spare keys, the warmth of a home lived-in and loved greets him like an embrace, your arms pulling him in gently through the door and taking his coat before he reaches to undo his shoes. The world seems to tilt at its axis without warning and he has to rush to put a hand on the floor for balance, struck by an unforgiving moment of exhaustion now that he’s finally reached his safest space. 

“Woah,” you reach for the slumped over man by the shoe racks, soft hands gripping his assuredly, bringing him over to the sofa– thank God– closeby, “don’t worry. You aren’t dying, loverboy.”

Hyunjin chuckles at the teasing remark, content at finally catching the faint scent of your perfume clinging onto your clothes from earlier that morning. Lying down, he’s finally able to come back to his senses, making out a buzzing sound of what he assumes to be the coffee you loved to literal death. He has to fulfill his boyfriend duties and worry about your health, so he peeks over the back of the couch to reprimand, “You shouldn’t be drinking that at this time of the night.”

“Right, because you always listen to me when I tell you to rest. I’ll drink this, thank you.” You have to roll your eyes at his offended expression, though none taken. Offering him a mug of his favourite calming tea, you sit on the carpet by his side, coffee and tea resting on the small table until they cool down just enough to drink without scalding your tongues.

Hyunjin traces over the valleys of your face, flicking the bridge of your nose with a laugh from where he’s lying on his side, facing your direction like the sunflower to your sun. Your elbow rests on the cushion, supporting your cheek. The makeup his stylists had applied on him for their award show performance tonight looked impeccable, still, despite how worn his body felt. You admired the eyeshadow framing his brown eyes– so warm, so full of adoration, practically dripping with overflowing honey. 

“You did good,” your thumb brushing over his cheekbone, cupping his jaw, “I was watching you and my friends kept gushing about you.” Your beloved’s face gleams with mirthful eyes, amused by the fact that none of your friends knew who your long-time boyfriend seemed to be, still. You were always the first one to tease them for being such big fans, devilishly keeping the tiny little secret that their favourite member has been in love with you for years now and you couldn’t imagine a life without him henceforth. 

The day he’d facetimed you sporting his brand new hair, you’d shrieked, dropping your phone in the process. He’d grown worried, wondering if you’d hated it, but you simply demanded he come home as soon as he possibly could. Why, he’d questioned, not that he’d ever refuse, and when you dropped the “We’re going to have so much fun.” bomb on him, he’d left his belongings on the spot, damn near hopping and skipping his way over.

Now, he is sliding down the cushion to huddle into your side. Warm tea in his hand, an arm slung comfortably around his sun’s shoulder to bring her closer without a single worry of being taken over by your scorching heat. Welcoming the destruction as much as the creation of everything beautiful in this world (his world, because so long as he has you, Hwang Hyunjin is a King and the whole world is his– you are).

Your fingers absentmindedly play with the hand over your shoulder he has graced you with, sipping on your caffeine concoction. “Congratulations on your Bonsang. You guys deserve it so much with how hard you work and deliver. Tell the boys that I’m so happy for them, too.” 

Light reaches his eyes when his lips pull apart into a wide smile, still exhilarated by the prospect of having won. “Thank you, my boss lady.” He presses a chaste kiss on your temple, getting a waft of your shampoo he’s used on more than a handful of occasions, later on finding one of his own in the shower. Now, everything here seemed to be for two, hints of love scattered all around in every insignificant corner of the house. 

“Shut up,” you giggle at the name he’d designated for you a long while ago, “I should be called Lady Overlord at this point.”

There is a certain pitch he laughs at like a cute little chime and you’re lucky enough to hear it on the regular. “People think I’m talking about my CEO whenever I tell them that boss is calling. It’s pretty funny, to be honest.”

Finding moments of silence as comfortable as this is hard for someone constantly surrounded by loud friends and loud music so Hyunjin knows to cherish it until it eventually ends. For now, he succumbs to the ache in his bones and lays his head on your lap, spine finally decompressing all of the pressure it has withstood the whole award season preparation period, followed up by rigorous performances. Tingles run down until they reach his fingertips from the way you oh, so deliciously run your nails on his scalp, smoothing over his short hair, the texture so satisfying to play with that you can never seem to get enough of it.

You know the effect it has on him as he’s often fallen asleep to you playing with his hair, short and long. He still has to take off his stage makeup and shower off the sweat and debris, but you allow him this brief moment of rest. That can wait another fifteen minutes, showing some much needed love and affection cannot. You can see his lashes fluttering closed despite trying his damndest to keep them open (he needs to keep them open, damn it, you wouldn’t understand. Breathing is a sin unless it’s your scent, sight a sin unless it’s to look into your eyes. You don’t understand, his planet orbits around your sun. Without you pulling him in, he is but a rogue, lost in the dark and cold space, wandering without aim).

“Relax, I’ll wake you up soon.” You shush him, swiping your palm over his eyes like a gentle feather. Hyunjin takes your word for it, drifting into a saccharine sweet sleep, lulled to sleep by your silent hum, the dishwasher’s rumble falling even further into the distant scapes of his mind.

© KOISHUA 2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[woozinhos]

Hii! I hope your doing well! Can you do a s.coups sugar daddy headcannon with a dash of smut? If it's uncomfortable to write please do not do it! Thank you so much! 🫶🏻

Sugar Daddy Cheol

- Seungcheol loves to take control in the bedroom. He's a dominant lover who knows exactly how to drive you wild with desire. He loves to tie you up and tease you until you're begging for more.

- Seungcheol has a secret kink that he's never told anyone about. He loves to be called "Daddy" in bed. The word makes him feel powerful and dominant, and he gets off on the idea of taking care of his sugar baby in every way possible.

- Whenever Seungcheol is stressed out or feeling overwhelmed, he turns to you for comfort. He loves to lie on your lap and let you play with his hair, feeling safe and relaxed in your arms.

- One day, Seungcheol decides to surprise you with a trip to a luxurious hotel for the weekend. He wants to pamper you and show you just how much he appreciates you.

As soon as you arrive at the hotel, Seungcheol scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bedroom. He lays you down on the plush bed and begins to undress you slowly, savoring every moment of your naked body beneath him.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers in your ear, his hands roaming over your curves. "And all mine."

Seungcheol's eyes darken with desire as he gazes down at you, completely exposed and vulnerable beneath him. He runs his hands over your body, tracing every curve and dip with his fingertips.

"You have no idea how much I've been thinking about this," he growls, his voice low and husky. "How much I've been dreaming of having you all to myself."

He leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging deep into your mouth as he devours you. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily, and trails kisses down your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," he promises, his hands roaming lower and lower down your body. "I'm going to make you forget everything but me."

He reaches down and grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head as he hovers over you. "You're mine tonight," he growls, his eyes dark with possessiveness. "And I'm going to claim every inch of you."

-However there’s other times where he becomes jealous it’s so hot

Seungcheol couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched you interact with one of his colleagues. The way the man laughed at your jokes, touched your arm, and smiled at you made his blood boil. He knew he had no right to feel jealous - you were his sugar baby, not his girlfriend. But seeing you with another man still stung.

Later that night, Seungcheol was sitting in his office, trying to focus on his work, but his mind kept wandering back to you and the man from earlier. He couldn't shake the feeling of possessiveness that had taken over him. He wanted to mark you as his own, to show everyone that you belonged to him and only him. The thought consumed him, driving him wild with desire.

He stood up abruptly, unable to focus any longer, and walked out of his office. He needed to see you, needed to remind himself that you were his. Seungcheol stormed into your apartment, his eyes blazing with a mix of desire and possessiveness. He saw you sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "We need to talk."

You looked up at him, startled by the intensity in his eyes. "What's wrong?" you asked, sensing that something was off. Seungcheol didn't answer right away. Instead, he stalked over to you, his eyes never leaving yours. He stood in front of you, towering over you, and pulled you up into his arms.

"You're mine," he said, his voice firm and possessive. "No one else's. Do you understand?"

You nodded, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his voice. You had never seen him like this before - so possessive and dominant.

Seungcheol's grip on you tightened as he pulled you closer to him. "I don't want to see you with anyone else," he growled, his lips hovering over your ear. "Ever."

You could feel his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers of desire through your body. You knew that you were in trouble - but you also knew that you loved it.

"Say it," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Tell me that you're mine."

"I'm yours," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Only yours."

Seungcheol's eyes darkened with desire at your words, and he pulled you even closer to him, crushing you against his chest.

"Good girl," he growled, his hands roaming over your body possessively. "You belong to me, and only me. I don't want to share you with anyone."

He kissed you fiercely, his tongue plundering your mouth as he claimed you as his own. You melted into his embrace, completely surrendering to his dominance. Seungcheol lifted you up and carried you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "I'm going to remind you who you belong to," he promised, his voice thick with desire.

[onlymexsarah]

Burning Flames V || Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: Eris thinking important stuff, Eris being Eris, probably grammar mistakes and my english. A/n: I’M SO SORRY FOR THE WAITING. I had a writer’s block and i didn’t want to write anything that would disappoint you. I hope you’re gonna like this, let me know if you want to be added at the taglist🫶🏻 Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

As soon as you all arrived at the River House the mood lightened up. It was time to truly celebrate the Winter Solstice, and Feyre's birthday.

You were all in the sitting room, and when you said all you meant all. Even Nesta and Lucien were there, throught you thought that the presence of the latter was not entirely because his fondness to the Inner Circle.

You took a moment to look around you and letting the sight sink. They were all happy, everyone was talking about something and everyone had a smile on their faces. It was refreshing being in such a familiar occasion, but somehow you couldn't help but feel a bit of melancholy.

Feyre had found a beautiful family. Not perfect, because no one was perfect, but she had found people who loved her and would do anything for her. They would do anything for each other, and even if being Feyre's sister made you part of the group you knew you would never be more than that: Feyre's sister.

You had no special bond with anyone. Only Rhysand and Mor had taken interest in developing a relationship with you, but as you watched them talk with Cassian and Azriel you knew that you could never compare with that. The Winter Solstice was the night for wishes, and you deeply wished to find a family like that one day.

When the time of gifts arrived you were excited. When your family had fallen into poverty there was no money for gifts, so you had spent your birthdays and the holydays as normal days.

You had found out that you loved making gifts. It had something magical the whole searching the right things for everyone and find it. The one yuo were proudest was an enchated satchel for Nesta, where she could put every book she wanted and bring it with her weightless.

You had received gifts from almost everyone. but it was when Mor handed you a box wrapped with expensive, sparkling red silk that your heart skipped a beat. "I think someone is quiet fascinated by you after only few dances." said Mor smugly and she read from who it was from.

You tried to steady your hands and you took the gift and read the little note that was attached to it.

"A reminder that flames are the apotheosis of beauty if shaped by the right person. Happy Solstice, Eris."

You slowly unwrapped the delicate silk and opened the box. Your eyes widened as you caught what was inside. Everyone's attention was on you as you took the glass case that was inside the box and hold it in your hand in front of your face.

You felt everyone's breath stopping as you stared at the beautiful rose made of fire that burned inside the glass.

The glass was warm, and the fire was perfectly shaped as a rose, forever burning on its own. Something inside you flickered, something gold, soft that a moment before was not there. You didn't know what to say as every word disappeared from your mind. It was breathtaking. The beauty of it could not be compared to anything else you had ever seen.

"At least he has good taste for gifts." Mor commented crossing her arms.

You put the glass case on the table in front of you and quickly looked away from it, giving a Mor a tight smile. "What? Having second thoughts?" you said ironically to her, needing to change subject.

She snorted. "Hardly."

"Let's just appreaciate the kind gesture." Rhysand said with an amused smile. "Thanks to you we have his alliance back, let's celebrate that."

It didn't go unnotice to you your sister's tight expression. From the way she looked at Rhysand and the smile he gave her you were sure they were having a mental conversation, about what you didn't know.

The night passed smoothly, there had been no other awkward gifts thankfully. At some point your eyes threatened to close on their own so you excused yourself and went into your room.

You put the rose on the vanity in your room, and for a moment stared at it like it could explode. If Eris wanted to mess with your head then he was doing a great job.

You scoffed, fuck you Eris.

You swear you heard his low laugh deep inside you.

***

When a letter in red paper came for you with only a place and a time written on it you stormed into Rhysand's office, guilt eating you alive. You opened the door without so much as knocking, and told him everything.

You told him how Eris saved you during the war, how you had cured him because yes your power didn't go away but "my sisters lied too so you can't be angry at me". You showed him your hands and arms. You told him that Eris knew about your power but never said anything or threated you, and in the end you told him about the bargain you made.

"You were letting yourself burning from the inside out because you were scared to hurt someone?" Rhysand's voice was not in any way angry, actually he seemed more concerned.

You shrugged, your eyes fell on the ground feeling his heavy gaze on you. "You were all so happy after the war. My sisters still needed me and I didn't want to ruin anyone's happiness with this problem. I would have figured out something, eventually."

Rhysand stared at you silently, a mischievious spark in his violet eyes. "And you thought that making a bargain with Eris was the solution?"

His question wasn't accusatory. It sounded like Rhysand was curious about your maddness, and honestly you were too. There was no right answer to make it sound reasonable, so you gave him part of the truth.

"When he chose me to dance the responsability to keep him as an ally had fallen on me, and unfortunately I couldn't seduce him like Nesta would have done." You shrugged. "Cassian was right, Eris seems to enjoy to annoy me. When he proposed to train me I took it as my chance to keep him close to the Night Court and keep him close as an ally."

"And are you comfortable with this...arrangement?" Rhysand asked you carefully.

You noticed how his reaction had been completely different from what you had expected. You thought that he would look at you like the stupid girl you felt, almost pitying you for talking about Eris like he was not a monster. Instead, Rhysand had just listened, nodded and gave you an encouraging smile.

"Yeah, I'll need one of you to winnow me where we'll meet, but I would prefer if you tell no one but Feyre and Azriel." You said and saw in Rhysand's eyes that he understood the double meaning of your words:

"I don't want Mor to find out, for now."

"It can be easily arranged, but since you'll start to spend time on your own around Prythian I must ask you to start training with Cassian and Azriel whenever you can." he said kindly sitting on the chair behind his desk.

You tilted your head with a grin. "Are you asking as my High Lord or as a worried friend?"

"What about as a brother?" he matched your grin. "An overbearing one, as Feyre calls me."

You chuckled. "I'll start training with them tomorrow."

***

"Your brooding silence is louder than Nesta and Cassian during Winter Solstice." You snorted watching with almost disgust all the flowers around you. The border between the Spring's court and the Summer's court was a explosion of yellow, pink, orange and purple. All colours that made your eyes almost hurt.

You felt Azriel's death glare on your back as you pointly avoided his eyes. "I still have to understand why Rhys think letting you be alone with him is a good idea."

"Because Rhysand would be a hypocrite to deny me of this lovely bargain." An amused, deep voice said behind you making your toes curling in your shoes.

You turned around and saw Azriel watching Eris like he was imaginaing stabbing him, and somehow you knew you were right. "I'll stay with you." said the shadowsinger as if Eris' presence just reminded him how a bad idea that was.

"Tempting, but I'm not usually one who like to share." Said Eris with a cocky grin before looking at you. "Unless the lady wants to."

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms. It was annoying how most of the times you didn't know if Eris was flirting with you or trying to rile you up.

"Go Az." You looked at the shadowsinger with a kind smile. "I'll be fine."

"I'll be back in few hours." Azriel said to you before winnowing away, giving Eris one last warning look.

You watched for a few seconds the place where Azriel had been standing and took a deep breath. "Over the centuries I forgot how dramatic he could be."

You snapped your eyes on Eris, making a good effort to not notice how his green outfit made his eyes look of an impossible shade of emerald.

"He just doesn't trust you." you said ironically. "I wonder why."

Eris gave you a feline grin before offering you his arm. "There is a lake near by, shall we?"

You studied his arm with wary eyes. Inside you there were two sides that were fighting each other. The first one wanted to give him the chance that no one ever did, to trust him and gain his trust back, to get to know the Eris that if you tried hard you could see under his mask; the other part was yelling at you to not be stupid, that if the Inner Circle didn't trust him after five centuries there were very good reasons, and the worst part was that you knew most of them, and still it wasn't enough to make you feel even a hint of disgust.

So you had to pretend.

"Let's just get started." you hoped that your cold mask was at least half good as his as you walked past him toward the lake, ignoring his low chuckle.

***

From your sister's story of her training you had expected everything but this.

Eris had made you sat right in front of the lake with your leg crossed, your back straight and your eyes closed while he did the same beside you and gave you instruction with his voice.

He had told you to focus on your breathing while you had to map the environment around you just with your hearing. Was it even possible?

Spoiler: no.

Everytime you heard a sound your mind would wander around with random thoughts that become a deep dive inside your head. The birds over you reminded you of the days that your father used to bring you around the forest close to your old estate. Who knew who lived there now? Maybe the humans had chosen to let it fall to ruin after what happened to them. Maybe they would think it was cursed.

That's it. You had forgotten to calm your breathing. Again.

"Awknowledge the thoughts that came into your mind and let them go." Eris' voice vibrated right inside you making you shift slightly on your place.

"I thought you were going to teach me how to control my power, not how to control my breathing." You scoffed.

"Who said anything about training your power in the bargain?" He said almost bored.

Your eyes snapped open and you looked at him incredulous. He was smirking. That bastard was smirking and you wanted nothing more than to slap that grin away from his face.

"If you do not train me I could easily lose control and burn everything around us to ashes." You said slowly, angry that he thought he could trick you. "And you with it."

Eris opened his eyes, his grin only grew wider as he looked at you. "Oh, but that would be quite the sight." You clenched your jaw as your skin started to pinch with heat. He gave you an amused look before closing his eyes again and taking a deep breath. "Relax, Little Flame. We need to make you burst out that mass of power that you had been foolishly sealed inside you, but I won't make you do it until I know it's not completely safe for you."

"And completely safe for this place." You added while you fought the blush that was growing on your cheeks at the thought that Eris had just said that he wanted you safe.

You saw him shrugging, his eyes remained shut. "Helion wouldn't mind a little renovation." You scoffed rolling your eyes. How could he be so calm? You had expected to learn how to control your fire, and instead you were struggling to control even your breathing. "Believe it or not, but I'm trying to help you. Close your eyes."

His firm tone made you ashamedly tightening your thighs. You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent you from doing something stupid, like talk back and made him use that tone again.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the heat that was starting to grow at the pit of your stomach, which you were sure wasn't due your flames.

"You were born human, but no one taught you how to be a High Fae when the cauldron Made you. Your body is stronger, faster. Your sight, hearing, and nose are sharper." Eris' explanation hit something very precise inside you. It was true, no one had ever stopped to explain to you how to use those new abilities. And it was fine, you had never really asked, knowing that as the older sister you should have to figure it out on your own. "We are at the border between Summer and Spring, with only your nose you should be able to tell where the border exactly is, but lets start easy. Use all your senses but the sight."

His calm and warm voice made it sound simple, and you believed him. It wasn't a even-a-child-can-do-it type of simple, it was more like a your-body-can-naturally-do-that type of simple.

You spent another hour like that, and by the end of it you were smiling broadly. You had successfully used all your new senses, and you were mesmerized by Eris' patience. Not once he had rushed you or had seemed to be tired.

"You're smiling." your head snapped toward him and you couldn't help the look of surprise that grew on your face. "You've never smiled like that when I was around."

You watched him with a hint of michievous in your eyes. As soon as you had successfully told him where the border was he had instructed you to stand in front of the lake and try to smell the animals around you. "You've never been silent around me before."

Eris laughed. The redhead in front of you, the Heir of Autumn, the General of the Autumn Court's army actually laughed and didn't incinerated you for your words.

It was an awful lie what you had said. His voice was probably the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, and you wondered if he laughed because he knew that deep down.

Cauldron, I hope not.

"Tell me if you sense some creatures in the lake." Eris smirked crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll gift you with more silence in the meantime."

You playfully rolled your eyes and took a step closer to the lake.

Deep breath.

Empty mind.

Eyes closed.

You felt the bird above you, the deers at your left, deep in the Summer's forest and even the rabbits beyond the Spring's border. But nothing came from the lake in front of you. Confused you opened your eyes and tried to catch some glimps of fishes or other creatures.

"Nothing." You said tilting your head a bit confused. "I don't think there is something in this lake."

"Good." Eris grinned michievously. "Then put your hands in the water and let your fire out."

You felt your eyebrows hitting your hairline as you widened your eyes and looked at him incredulous. "I am absolutely not."

"You absolutely are." he quickly remarked.

"What if there are fishes in there? I cannot kill them." You gestured to the pool of water in front of you, trying to understand what he intented.

"You said there is nothing in there." He shrugged becoming serious. "You need to start trusting your senses. There might still be days where you need to let your power out and you'll need to scan the area quickly to make sure no one is around."

His words carried something too personal for you to let them go. Was he speaking for personal experience? You wanted to talk back, you wanted to ask him if there were creatures in the lake, but something inside you stirred.

Eris might be the only one who could understand you, who knew what you were going through. He was the oldest son of Beron, you wondered what kind of pressures he had to live with. You wondered if he too had to learn how to use his fire beside a lake to not hurt anyone.

You slowly crounched on your feet and even slower took your gloves away. The burned flesh on your hands were red with remains of the green sticky cream that Madja had given you. The cold water send shivers of pure relief through all your body.

"You want me to light a fire under water..." You said skeptical looking at Eris over your shoulder.

"Darling, I'm positive your power could light a fire at the bottom of the ocean, if wield properly." You looked away from his lazy grin as your stomach twisted at his new nickname.

Water or not water you had to understand now how to call the fire at you. For weeks the flames had been burning all your body no-stop, you just needed to focus them in your hands.

"I do not suppose to know you, but I might guess that your power usually answer to your anger." he was standing behind you like you hadn't a burning fire inside you ready to explode, like you weren't a danger for him. "Focus that sweet mind of yours toward what anger you most."

You.

The answer was quick in your mind.

Eris Vanserra had the ability to make you angry with just a look, and there were so many reasons that you couldn't focus on just one. It made you angry when he used his mocking tone with you. It made you angry when he used a gentle tone with you. It made you angry when he looked at you like you were the only person in the room, and it made you angry when he avoided your gaze in a room full of people.

It made you angry knowing what he did to Mor. It made you angry that there were times when you didn't care. It made you angry that you thought that the male in front of you could never do shuch thing. It had made you angry that he had saved you. But you were even angrier when he hadn't seek you out after the battle.

Eris Vanserra made you angry because he didn't make you angry at all. He made you feel frustrated, amused, annoyed, flustered and seen, and you were angry because you shouldn't feel those things. Not with him.

You felt it then. You felt hot flames rising from your skin and you imagined that the water in front of you were your feelings, and they needed to burn. So, they burnt.

Bright, red fire appeared underwater around your hands and the water in front of you started to boil. You let it all out. Every flame you had pushed down in those months was now left free.

It felt so good to finally let it go. The flames were circling all your arms, from your shoulders down your elbows and to your hands. You had missed the warmt that came from inside your body, the ethernal sensation that no cold could ever touch your skin, never again.

***

Eris had never known an enchanting sight as the one he had in front of him now. Your flames were all around you while from the lake it was rising a cloud of steam that soon enough would catch someone's attention.

He felt your rage through the bond and everything you had kept inside. The steam of power that you were letting out was huge, destructive, beautiful.

He watched silently as your fire stopped and you let yourself fall back, sitting on the burned grass and staring the water with emotionless eyes. He dared to tuck softly the bond, trying to understand what you were feeling, then you laughed, and something gold flickered inside him at that sound.

It was a laugh that could make him burn courts to the ground for the chance to hear it again. It was the laugh that at some point he had dreamed while Under the Montain. It was the laugh of hope that no matter if people like Amarantha, Beron or the King of Hybern ruled merciless, there were still people with enough strenght to laugh.

"I've never felt so free in a long time." you almost whispered to yourself. You stared at your hands and Eris let out a sigh of relief as he saw that the skin was completely healed.

He saw as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes tilting your head back toward the sky, and Eris felt the need to make you stop looking so fucking perfect while he had no right to enjoy this view.

He cleared his throat bringing his hands behind his back. "Can I dare to ask what or who you were thinking? I wouldn't want to find myself in the middle of the two of you."

You gave him a indecipherable look. "Cassian's habit to steal my breakfast."

Eris didn't hold the scoff that escaped his lips. It was clearly a lie, but he understood that. He was no one for you, there was no reason for you to trust him with your thoughts, so he didn't push, even if his stomach twisted in a payinful knot.

He smelled a light scent far behind him, and he knew that was time for you to return back at home. "We should go back before the shadowsinger cut my throat."

He turned around, needing to stop that moment before he started to believe things that couldn't be true. Not yet.

"Wait." your voice stopped him and he curiously turned around to look at you as you stood up and brushed of the grass from your dress. You walked closer to him with a steady look that made him equally unsteady. "It's time for my part of the bargain. My question."

He rose slightly his eyebrows, surprised by your sudden determination. "Go ahead."

He saw as you tried to organize your thoughts, crossing your arms as to make you more secure of yourself. "Is this side of yours part of the mask?"

Eris tilted his head, a bit confused by your question. "This side?" What were you seeing in him? What did he let slip?

"Yes, this side." You gestured with your hands at his whole person. "You, helping me and not being a total arrogant. You always make sure to make the others doubt your intentions, to doubt you. While...while the one I have in front of me is not the same male I heard the others talk about."

Eris stood there for a moment, looking into your eyes. He heard steps behind him approach, steps of someone who usually doesn't want to be heard. He slowly reached out a hand, and tuck some hair behind your ear and he smirked as he heard your breath caucht in your throat.

"Maybe I'm just manipulating you." He whispered, knowing he had few more seconds to play with you. If he couldn't have you for himself, he at least could have those reactions from you. "Maybe I want you to think I'm the good guy to use you against your precious Inner Circle. It would be quite the revenge."

"You are not moved out of revenge." Your response left him speechless for a moment. "If you wanted revenge then half of Prythian would be death."

"I could convince you to kill them for me." he stated back. He had let his hand lingering behind your ear, and now he let it slowly trace down the curve of your neck.

You breath had become clearly shorter, he could feel your heart beating through your chest, but your face betrayed nothing. He could see something flicker in your eyes, the only thing you couldn't control, but the look you were giving him was caution.

It was a game now, seeing how far he needed to go to convince you he was indeed the bad guy. Not to you. Never to you. But to everyone else. He wasn't above killing to gain what he wanted. He had lied, killed, manipulated and swore false oath to ensure the security of his people, but for you? He would kill with his bare hands an entire court to give you a throne, and it terried him.

"I told you, I won't kill for you." your voice snapped him back from his mind. You grabbed his wrist with your hand, fingers still hot with fire, and shoved it away from your neck. "You didn’t-“

“It’s time to go.” A voice cold as death stopped you in mid sentence.

Eris didn’t acknowledge the shadowsinger behind him, keeping his eyes on you. “But we were having so much fun.”

“Step away from her.” Your eyes snapped on Azriel and something twisted inside Eris as he watched you smiling at the shadowsinger and walking toward him.

Will he ever be the one receiving that smile? Will you ever walk toward him that happily?

He watched as you took Azriel’s arm and the shadows started to grow around you, ready to winnow away.

“Little flame.” Eris called after you. Your eyes found his over the wall of shadows that was forming around you. It was time for the answer, he guessed. “No, it’s not.”

Your eyes widened, and it was a pity, seriously, that he couldn’t see the rest of your face before you disappeared, because he knew it would be hilarious.

taglist: @adventure-awaits13 @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huffleruffplant @azysmate @bia-wayne-west @babypeapoddd @lady-targaryens-world@sourapplex @ghostwritermia @asteria33 @pinklemonade34 @tell-me-a-poem @speedypersonawhispers @historygeekqueen @webvics @paliketerson @lizzytish82 @tincanhat @marrass @acourtofmoonlightandstars @yasmin-oviedo @ghostwritermia @marly500

[tinrange]

There are so many great points here but I wanna highlight the section about how youth in countries and areas without adequate sex education are recieving information and knowledge through these shows.

The top-bottom stereotyping, complete with massive body differences and certain 'looks', for both GL and BL pairs is a warping of actual roles that then forces queer youth into conservative positions while those that see queer bodies as objects of commodity get to fictionalize aspects of the community.

In LGBT relationships and dating its normal to discuss sexual preferences, its common to be vers sure but its just as common to be secure in your position.

When shows are marketed such that there can only ever be one dynamic ive seen queer youth assert that there are no 'bottoms' no 'tops' its just two people loving each other, and despite it coming from a place of defense it ends up driving them away from actually seeing all queerness can encompass.

In the case of sapphics there are actual identities tied around service and reception, both in and out of bed, that are then dismissed by large swathes of the media consuming pop. Because of the fact Stereotypes imposed onto people through corporations and heteronormativity. Those beliefs are strengthened in the echochambers that make up hime spheres and eventually change peoples approaches to their own identities.

All that to say that this ties back to the point of capitalism being a driving force behind each production and show we see being put to the screen. Its been extremely telling for me recently how deeply people enjoy censored shows, for example Highschool Return of Gangster, and also how people discuss actors who work on them vs on BL.

Highschool Return of Gangster is blatantly censored, its not gay and the subtext is doing a lot of the work for audience members who Want to see something while also leaving it vague enough that those 'uncomfortable' could just ignore it. Whats really interesting is how this shows censorship was defended amongst its creators, it HAD to be censored for them because BL is too niche and unfprofitable. Its a genre market that automatically creates a barrier for success. In this way Korea and Thailand are very different, but the audience reactions to people who work in other industries is the same.

"BL actors are there to create ships and sell you a lie and a delusion and breed fangirls who dont care about irl queerness." These kind of broad strokes flatten any nuance in discussions of what being seen supporting queer art actually Does to a public image, and the conflation of areas and peoples together allows for a complete dismissal of the genre. People who hate GL and BL will tell you everybody is in it for the money and the fans and nobody ever cares about anything past that, and that kind of thinking works so well for the companies.

If the audience is already willing to seperate queerness from Actually LGBT art and productions, only minimal steps need to be taken to make things 'palatable' and easy to consume by robbing the stories of possible authenticity.

These shows and genres are already viewed as lesser by a GP, perverse or flat tv that exists only to cater to a niche who doesnt actually belong to the community and it allows for everyone, even LGBT audiences, to praise those that 'elevate' the genre.

This all ties in with the general conservative backswings plaguing social media and discussions from the youth. Capitalism allows for these companies to continue creating narratives that discredit any enjoyment of swathes of queer media due to BLs "low-brow" nature, while simultaneously suppressing any shows that depict queer messiness. Its almost disappointing to see people continuously use the defense of "not everything has to be So Explicitly Gay" when that serves no one but capitalists who want to dip in everyones pockets. Impressionable audiences are manipulated and end up treating stories about their own communities as having to Prove Their Worth in the canon, and when a show like SMYM comes along it becomes very easy to dismiss criticisms because audiences have been groomed into believing LGBT art is more elevated the less it cares about the interiority and actual queerness of the characters.

Spare Me Your Mercy, Love in the Big City, and the Trap of Pursuing Mainstream Popularity for Queer Art

I read this excellent post by @waitmyturtles yesterday tackling the frustrating failures of Spare Me Your Mercy, a show that was one of my most anticipated of the year, but that ended up so lost in its own confusing blend of sauces that I didn't even finish it. I appreciated her clarity that despite the show receiving strong ratings and finding popularity with the mainstream domestic audience, that doesn't actually make it a success as a piece of narrative storytelling. And if anything, its popularity underlines why it was a failure as a queer narrative, in particular.

Because here's the thing about great queer art—it's almost never popular with mainstream audiences, especially in socially conservative countries. High quality, well-executed, honest and authentic queer art is more likely to be protested than celebrated in places where real queer people are not safe to live free lives. For an illustration of this, look no further than another highly anticipated queer drama of this year in Love in the Big City. Easily the queerest show to ever get made and aired on Korean television, it drew major protests before it even started, forcing the production to release it quickly in one go to ensure it would reach audiences. And why were those conservative groups so afraid of this little old drama? Because even just in its trailer and promotional materials, it was clear this was no sanitized, G-rated drama created to make gay people seem more palatable to the masses (unlike the film version with the same name, which not coincidentally has been much more warmly received by the Korean media establishment). This show was real, and raw, and QUEER in a way that terrified those bigots, because they know one of the most important ways the oppressed can advocate for themselves is by demonstrating their humanity through art. 

Which brings me back to turtles’ post, and the importance of separating the concerns of art and commerce when discussing the different ways media can succeed. This is something I had some good dialogue about with @biochemjess @pharawee @clairedaring @flowerbeasblog and turtles (and even more of you in the tags) when I was still watching and posting about Spare Me Your Mercy. I originally posted to unpack why the show was flopping narratively, which turned into a discussion of the fact that it was getting good ratings from the domestic audience despite this. And while I appreciated understanding how the show is landing with its priority audience, for me, it’s very important to keep a distinction between these two different kinds of success. Especially in discussions of queer art, and especially for a show whose creators explicitly said they were intentionally downplaying the queer romance part of the queer romance ( @benkaben) to avoid “distracting” from their other messaging goals. 

The important thing to keep in mind is that for queer stories, when they are popular with a mainstream audience it’s often because they are stripping any authenticity from the representation of queer people. Turtles addressed this well in her review of 2gether when she posited that part of the reason it was such a phenomenon in conservative Asian countries (aside from the timing of its release in the early days of the global pandemic), was because its presentation of queerness was mostly unrecognizable to real queer people, stripped of any true notion of queer sexuality or the realities of homophobia. Compare the reception of The Miracle of Teddy Bear—a show that absolutely refused to make its central queer character palatable for a mainstream audience, because the fact that he wasn’t palatable was the point—to that of Spare Me Your Mercy, a show whose creators chose to censor their own story. The ugly truth is that when we’re talking about queer dramas, the best and most vital shows are pretty much anathema to mainstream ratings success.

The impulse to pursue mainstream popularity and commercial success for queer art inevitably leads to watering down queer stories ( @twig-tea) to make them more light, comfortable and familiar to a majority heterosexual and socially conservative audience. And yes, of course, some degree of commercial success is necessary for queer art to get made in the first place. This is how the Thai BL market took off, by recognizing that there was an audience beyond queer people who were open to watching stories about boys falling in love, as long as it didn’t get too real. But there is a careful line to walk here, and it’s so important not to confuse popularity with artistic merit. Queer people won’t win liberation by self-censoring queer media to make it more palatable for mainstream audiences. We win when we make queer art so good and so honest that the mainstream is forced to acknowledge it. We win by challenging the mainstream perspective on queer people and how they should behave, not by catering to it. As @bengiyo said in a completely different discourse, the question is not whether the audience can love queer characters whose actual queerness is suppressed for their comfort. That kind of respectability politics is old hat and it never fucking gets us anywhere. The real question he posed is this: “Do you love us when we’re ugly, when we’re sick, when we’re old, when we’re being mean or catty?”

Which is why a show like Love in the Big City ultimately won by being so excellent, and so true, and so undeniable, that it broke through with audiences around the world and achieved some measure of recognition in spite of how very unpalatable it was to its domestic audience. Unlike Spare Me Your Mercy, this show did not get amazing domestic ratings, but its message was heard far beyond those who watched it on Korean television. And that is the point. Making authentic art that advances the struggle of queer people and making nominally queer art that can achieve mainstream popularity are completely different pursuits, and we must keep that in mind when we discuss whether and how these shows succeeded or failed. And while both must exist in a healthy media ecosystem, one will always be more vital for the survival of queer people than the other. 

[stevenose]

while we’re on the subject…

I feel like Steve wouldn’t be that into smoking, and even if he wanted to he’d end up babysitting everyone who was high bc yknow forever a mother.

but but but imagine he has a crush on reader who is very big stoner vibes, but he’s been too nervous to make a move. they’re at a get together with the older kids and maybe some randoms. they go outside with Eddie a few others to smoke, and for the first time ever Steve ends up opening the sliding door and asking to join.

He sits next to reader and takes a hit and suddenly he’s back to his king Steve bullshit. He’s brazen with his stares, his compliments and little touches. Everyone is too high to notice, except reader who has no idea how to respond. Something about not only seeing Steve going back to his cocky, brazen self, but to do it all while holding a joint between his fingers, does it for me personally.

i love this so so much….!!!!! anon this is such a good idea.

like it’s a little bit pathetic when he comes out and coughs his head off and refuses water when everyone knows he needs it. and he still sort of chastises everyone because you’re smoking too much, you’re gonna get sick!

but he kind of forgot how awesome being high is. he hasn’t smoked since senior year of high school and he’s almost wondering why he stopped.

and, actually, his old high school self comes out when he smokes. ten minutes after his last hit he’s walking like he owns the world, cracking witty jokes, winking at you like you’re sharing a secret. you’re taken aback, not used to a laid back, suave steve.

he sits side by side with you, his thigh pressing against yours. he’s hot. always runs hot. he’s making you hot, the joint back in his hands as it rotates around the coffee table. he’s telling a story, animated, chuckling. ashes the joint and holds it out to you.

“take a big hit for me, huh?”

steve holds the damn thing while you inhale, staring at him with wide eyes. he disappears in a cloud of smoke when you exhale, and it’s like it’s only you and him. there’s a sidebar conversation happening over something steve said and no one notices when he winks at you.

and he passes it past you to the next person, casual again while you sit reeling. your heart beats quick and you wonder if he can feel it or hear it. if he knows how worked up he just got you.

“you okay?” he asks, leaning over to speak softly into your ear.

“yeah.” it’s unconvincing.

he puts a hand on your thigh as if to comfort you. “too big?”

your eyes widen. “huh?”

“the hit,” he grins. “too big for you?”

you stare because you don’t know how to answer. really dumbstruck over him. you didn’t even know he could be this way.

“you’re really pretty, you know.” steve squeezes your thigh, makes sure to drag his fingers inward and up swiftly before pulling away. “look so pretty with your lips wrapped around that.”

he nods towards the joint that’s been stalling in eddie’s hands for about three minutes now, while everyone listens to him tell the story about how he spent three days in jail.

you still don’t know what to say, suddenly feeling too high - dizzy, a little in love. “thank you.”

he tilts his head, furrows his brows, a gleam in his eyes giving away his lack of sincerity. “makes me wonder what else your lips look good wrapped around.”

“harrington! what’s the name of that jackass football player that bought the blow from me?”

steve turns to answer him, like he didn’t just make your thighs clench. you take a deep breath and run your hand through your hair, looking around the room to see if anyone else noticed. they didn’t, of course.

but he’s back, casual again while he puts his arm around you. makes it look like he’s just getting comfortable. you can smell him - the cologne, the hairspray, the weed, his sandalwood deodorant. it’s all encompassing, comforting, makes you salivate for more.

you turn to look at him, catching his little smirk.

steve looks back at you, so fondly, his soft eyes red.

“what?” he asks.

“steve.”

his fingers find the strap of your bra under your shirt. he rubs over it. “somethin’ wrong? y’got somethin’ to tell me?”

you feel hypnotized by his eyes. “‘n-no.”

he talks softly to you. “you need somethin’, then? you feeling okay? need me to take care of you?”

you freeze, thinking for a long moment before nodding. because he looks to damn good with his hooded eyes and a shirt that might rip if he exerts his muscles to much. it’s precisely what you’d like to see, in fact. need to see those strong biceps, need to see them straining while he holds himself up over you. need him to take care of you like he always does when he’s sober.

“think you should go lay down.” his nose almost touches yours. “be right up to make you feel better, ‘kay?”

and you’re running up to the guest bedroom within seconds.

[bunnyinvanilla]

when sugar daddy!john price finds out about the stray dog you’ve taken in while he’s been on deployment… pt. 2

you cradle the dog against your chest as you look up at john, who now has two, not one, pair of puppy eyes to melt at.

but he’s fuming, bulk arms crossed together and bearded jaw clenched, a crinkle appearing between his eyes, an evident expression of anger that you’re not used to.

“what is that?” his voice is a low, deep rumble that sends chills down your spine, and you find yourself only staring at him, lips glued together — he’s never gotten mad at you before, or angry, you always followed all the rules, slipping out a soft ‘yes sir’ or ‘yes daddy’ and doing as you were told, as if you had been handcrafted by cherubs and sent to earth to be his personal good girl.

he’s warned you about not taking a stray dog many times, and Oreo himself can feel the heavy emotion lingering in the air, how that big, tall man doesn’t seem pleased with his presence.

“Oreo..” you mumble quietly, looking up at him from where you’re kneeling on the floor, hand gently caressing the pup’s soft head. “he’s a border collie and he’s..he’s five months”

could you believe that.

“who’s gonna take care of him?” his gives you single worded questions, his grumpy, strict captain personality draped over him like a cape.

“I am, sir” you try to make him more reasonable, giving him your own puppy dog eyes, your knees scraping against the carpet underneath them as you hug the tiny, black and white creature.

“doll, you need me to take care of yourself, how are you going to take care of a dog?”

“but he’s good, daddy, I promise, he doesn’t make any mess, he just needs love and affection, that’s all” you look at the dog, who’s studying john with a curious gaze, tail moving slowly and attentively.

“he was all alone on the street, with no collar, whining, I couldn’t leave him there hungry and sad :( and I was also alone, we kept each other company while you were away,”

you speak with such a tenderness it is very hard for john to remain serious and mad at you, so he just closes his eyes, pinching his nose.

“come on daddy, you said you also have a dog at the base, why can’t we have one?”

“Riley doesn’t sleep on my bed, angel, he has other people to take care of him, do you even understand how hard it is to raise a damn dog?” his voice grows deeper, rougher, darting his hardened eyes between you, kneeling so cutely in front of him and that damn dog, whom you’ve named after a cookie.

but of course you couldn’t just let him come back to his house with hundreds of more books, you also had to welcome him with a dirty whelp

Oreo whines towards John, his tail wagging shakily, wondering why that new hooman hasn’t petted him yet.

“you said you wanted us to have a son, we have one now :(“

“fuckin’ earth sweetheart that’s not what I meant,” he sighs, bending over and picking the dog up with only one arm — you watch as he lifts him up on the air, scrutinizing him with a doubtful look, his paws are clean, he doesn’t stink.

“you’re just fuckin’ lucky i love her,” he mutters to Oreo, who only gives him a high pitched bark in response. “he’s not sleeping on the bed, he’s not allowed near my boots, and if he drools all over my paperwork, im sending him right on the field”

guess you are both parents, now :)

[paroslineage]

Memoir

Oneshot

Featuring : Hwang In-ho x F!Reader.

Masterlist.

---

The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the monitors. You lay on the bed, your hand resting on your swollen belly, your pale face still managing a weak smile as In-ho sat beside you, holding your other hand tightly. His police uniform was rumpled, a sign of the long shifts he'd been pulling, but his eyes were solely focused on you.

"You need to rest, In-ho," you murmured, your voice weak but full of love. "The baby and I… we’re fine as long as you're here."

In-ho’s grip tightened slightly. His jaw clenched as he fought back tears. "I can't lose you, Paro. I won't."

You knew the medical bills were piling up. The doctors had been clear—your condition was critical, and the liver transplant you needed was expensive. In-ho had already donated a kidney to his younger brother, Jun-ho, years ago. He had always been a man of sacrifice, but now, the burden was crushing him.

"In-ho, don’t do anything reckless," you warned softly, as if sensing the turmoil brewing inside him.

He didn’t respond, just kissed your hand and whispered, "I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and our baby safe."

---

A week later, In-ho returned home late, his hands trembling as he placed a stack of cash on the table. The air between you both grew heavy as you stared at the money.

"Where did you get this?" you asked, your voice trembling.

"I borrowed it," he replied, avoiding your gaze. "From someone who could help us."

The truth was far darker. The money came from a criminal syndicate, and the interest was insurmountable. When the police discovered his actions, In-ho’s reputation, built on years of unwavering duty, was shattered. He was dismissed, humiliated, and left with nothing but his love for you and the debt hanging over his head.

---

Months later, your condition worsened. Despite In-ho’s best efforts, the treatment wasn’t enough. He sat by your bedside, tears streaming down his face as he held your hand.

"I’m sorry," he choked out. "I failed you."

You smiled faintly, brushing a hand against his cheek. "You gave me everything, In-ho. I love you… always."

You passed away that night, the baby you both had dreamed of never taking their first breath.

---

Devastated and desperate, In-ho received an invitation to the Squid Game. The prize money was enough to cover all his debts and give him a fresh start, though the cost was unthinkable. With nothing left to lose, he joined the deadly competition.

Player 132 fought with the ferocity of a man with nothing to live for. He survived each game, but with every life he took or saw taken, a piece of his soul withered away. By the end, when he stood as the winner with the prize in his hands, the victory was hollow. He had the money, but it was too late to save the family he had fought so hard for.

---

In-ho returned to an empty home, haunted by the echoes of your laughter and the dreams you once shared. It was then that he received an offer from Oh Il-nam to become the Front Man. Bitter, broken, and disillusioned with the world, In-ho accepted.

Every year, as he oversaw the games, he thought of you. He wore the mask not just to hide his identity but to shield himself from the unbearable pain of who he used to be. Behind the cold and calculating demeanor of the Front Man was a man who had lost everything—his love, his child, and his sense of justice—all for a price he could never truly pay.