#still not too happy with how In-ho turned out

[enhateez]

BF!ATEEZ & WHEN YOU LEARN ABOUT THEIR HOBBIES | ATEEZ

pairing : : bf!ateez x gn!reader

genre : : pure fluff

warnings : : none but a suggestive line if you squint (or its just me being dirty minded 🤷🏻‍♀️ )

author's note : : these are just my headcanons! they may differ from yours, so don't take them srsly <3 I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing this 💕 thank you for requesting this @atinyyuyu 💖

KIM HONG JOONG !

You walk into Hongjoong’s studio, casually pointing at something on his screen, mentioning a term he’s always ranted about.

He freezes. His eyes go wide like you just uncovered his biggest secret. Hands pause mid-air, hovering over his keyboard.

Blush creeps up his ears as he stares at you. “How… do you know that?” almost comes out as a whisper.

He groans, burying his face in his hands, mumbling about how he must talk too much. You laugh, nudging his shoulder, telling him you just listen because you like hearing him talk.

He peeks at you through his fingers, ears still pink, but there’s a small smile growing. His pride and shyness are battling inside him.

Then, the excitement wins. He starts explaining, hands moving as he talks, eyes sparkling. His voice speeds up, getting more passionate with every word.

You nod along, watching him, admiring how happy he looks when he talks about the things he loves.

At some point, he tugs you closer, absentmindedly pulling you into his lap, too caught up in his explanation to realize.

When he does realize, he pauses, looking at you like he just processed what he did.

Blush deepens. Hands hesitantly settle around your waist. A small, flustered laugh slips out before he just… continues talking, pretending like nothing happened.

His voice stays steady, but his grip on you tightens slightly whenever you shift.

You rest your head against his, listening to him ramble, feeling the warmth of his arms around you.

He notices but doesn’t say anything. Just smiles to himself and keeps talking, a little softer this time.

PARK SEONG HWA !

You casually mention a specific LEGO set while Seonghwa is focused on building, and he immediately stops. Hands frozen mid-air, eyes blinking at you like you just cracked a secret code.

Slowly, he turns to you, suspicion all over his face. “…How do you know about that?”

You grin, admitting you’ve heard him talk about it before. His ears instantly turn pink. He groans, covering his face with his hands. “I knew I talked too much.”

You laugh, sitting beside him, watching as he pretends to be embarrassed but keeps sneaking glances at you, lips twitching like he’s trying so hard not to smile.

“Do you wanna help?” His voice is quiet, almost shy. When you nod, his whole face softens. He gently places a tiny LEGO piece in your hand like it’s the most important job in the world.

As you build together, his usual careful and precise movements get a little clumsy. His fingers brush against yours, and you swear he hesitates before pulling away.

At some point, you get a piece stuck and struggle to pull it apart. He chuckles, shaking his head before scooting closer. “Here, let me.”

Instead of just taking it, he covers your hands with his, guiding your fingers as he helps you. His hands are warm, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary.

You glance up, catching him already looking at you. He clears his throat, quickly focusing back on the LEGO set, ears betraying him by turning even redder.

After a while, you yawn, stretching your arms. Without thinking, he reaches out and gently fixes your hair, tucking a stray piece behind your ear before realizing what he just did.

He stiffens. You raise an eyebrow. His eyes dart to the LEGO set. “...It was in the way,” he mumbles, voice barely above a whisper.

You let it slide, but you don’t miss the small, flustered smile on his face as he keeps building—his hands still slightly shaky.

JEONG YUN HO !

You casually mention a strategy from his favorite game, and Yunho immediately pauses the game. No slow reaction, just an instant freeze. Controller still in his hands, mouth slightly open.

Turns to you, blinking in disbelief. “Wait… you know about that?” His voice is a mix of awe and mild panic.

When you nod, admitting you’ve heard him talk about it before, his face explodes into the biggest grin—but then it hits him. “Wait… have I been ranting that much?”

He groans, flopping back dramatically, covering his face with his hands. You poke his side, laughing. “It’s cute.”

His hands slowly lower, and his eyes narrow playfully. “Oh? Cute?” Next thing you know, he’s pulling you into a loose headlock, ruffling your hair as you squirm and protest.

He finally lets go, but not before pressing his cheek against yours for a second—quick, warm, and intentional. When he pulls back, his ears are red, but he pretends like nothing happened.

Offers you a controller, grinning. “Wanna play with me?” You agree, and the excitement in his eyes triples.

He scoots way too close, knee pressing against yours as he eagerly explains controls. His hand covers yours at one point, guiding your fingers on the buttons.

He’s terrible at hiding how happy he is. Keeps sneaking glances at you instead of the screen, smiling like an idiot every time you get something right.

When you win a round, he throws his hands up in fake defeat. "Okay, maybe you're not that bad,” he teases, eyes twinkling.

Suddenly leans in, resting his chin on your shoulder, voice softer now. “Guess I have competition now, huh?”

His breath is warm against your skin, and you don’t miss the way his fingers lightly drum against your knee.

He pulls back, still smiling, and hands you a snack like it’s a reward. “Okay, rematch. But this time, I won’t go easy on you.”

KANG YEO SANG !

You casually mention a specific skate trick Yeosang has been practicing for weeks, and he immediately freezes mid-motion. Board under his foot, arms slightly raised, completely stunned.

Turns to you slowly, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How do you know about that?” His voice is calm, but his ears are betraying him, already turning red.

When you admit you’ve been watching him practice, he blinks a few times, then covers his face with his hoodie sleeve like you just exposed his deepest secret.

Tries to act unaffected but keeps stealing glances at you, lips twitching like he’s holding back a smile.

“Wanna try?” He finally asks, casually patting the skateboard—except he’s definitely nervous now.

Holds your hands way too carefully as you step onto the board, like you’re the most fragile thing in the world.

“Okay, just balance first,” he says, but he’s already hovering like he’s ready to catch you at any second.

The second you slightly wobble, his hands are immediately on your waist, steadying you. He doesn’t move them.

“See? You’re getting it,” he murmurs, voice softer now. His thumbs absentmindedly rub small circles against your sides before he quickly pulls away, clearing his throat.

After a while, you sit on the board while he pushes you gently, letting you glide across the pavement. He watches you with that soft smile.

When you reach the end, he crouches in front of you, resting his arms on his knees. “You look cute like this.” He says it so casually, like he doesn’t just make your heart race.

You throw a playful kick at him, and he laughs, grabbing your ankle before pulling you closer by the board.

Ends up just sitting beside you, the two of you sharing his hoodie while watching the sky turn orange.

“We should skate together more,” he murmurs after a while. Then, quietly—almost shyly—“Or just spend more time like this.”

CHOI SAN !

You show up at San’s place, casually holding a plushie he’s been wanting for ages. The moment he sees it, he gasps—like full-on, dramatic, hand-over-mouth gasp.

His eyes dart between you and the plushie, processing. Then, suddenly, he’s tackling you in a hug.

“HOW DID YOU—? WHERE DID YOU—?” He’s literally shaking you with excitement before snatching the plushie and hugging it like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Looks at you, eyes shining, voice softer now. “You… remembered?”

When you nod, he just stares at you for a second, like he doesn’t know whether to scream, cry, or kiss you.

Instead, he flops onto the couch, dragging you down with him, the plushie squished between you both. His arms stay around you, warm and secure.

“This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the plushie—then, after a pause, nuzzling into you too.

He doesn’t let go. Just stays there, holding onto both you and the plushie like you’re equally important (which, let’s be real, you are).

At some point, he quietly says, “You always listen to me, huh?” His voice is filled with something soft, something almost shy.

You hum in response, running your fingers through his hair absentmindedly. He melts.

He’s quiet for a while, just enjoying the warmth, then suddenly—“Okay, now you have to name it.”

He shoves the plushie in your face, dead serious. “It’s basically our child now.”

SONG MIN GI !

You show up with a rare vinyl record of an artist Mingi loves but could never find, casually handing it to him like it’s no big deal.

He just… stares at it. Then at you. Then back at the record. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out except a tiny, breathless, “No way.”

Gently takes it from your hands like it’s the most fragile thing in the world. Turns it over, checking the details, his fingers shaking a little.

“How did you even—? Where did you—?” His voice cracks mid-sentence, and you barely hold back a laugh.

He suddenly pulls you into a hug—tight and warm, like he’s trying to pour all his emotions into it.

Pulls back, eyes shining, then hugs you again because once wasn’t enough.

Five minutes later, he’s already setting up his record player, bouncing slightly on his feet like an excited puppy.

As soon as the music starts playing, he grabs your hands and starts swaying with you, even though it’s not even a dance track.

He’s humming along, looking at you more than the record, and oh no, he’s getting soft.

Midway through, he suddenly spins you around—way too enthusiastically—causing you to almost fall, but he catches you just in time, both of you collapsing into laughter.

You end up on the couch, him lying across it with his head in your lap, still rambling about how much this means to him.

He keeps looking up at you with this ridiculously fond smile, one hand playing with your fingers as the record crackles in the background.

At some point, he just sighs, closing his eyes, murmuring, “You’re actually the best, you know that?”

He falls asleep like that—smiling, music playing, your fingers running through his hair. And yeah, he’s definitely dreaming about you.

JUNG WOO YOUNG !

You casually mention wanting to cook a dish Wooyoung has been talking about forever, and he immediately gasps—dramatic, hands-on-his-chest levels of shock.

“YOU?! Want to cook that? With me?!” He’s already bouncing on his feet, practically vibrating with excitement.

Before you can react, he’s grabbing an apron and spinning you around, insisting on tying it for you. “Stay still,” he hums, pulling the strings snugly around your waist.

He definitely lingers, hands resting on your hips a second too long. “Perfect,” he murmurs, voice a little too smug in your ear.

Immediately back to his usual self, he pulls you to the counter, explaining the steps with way too much enthusiasm. Keeps leaning in way too close, just because he can.

At one point, he dips his finger into a sauce and holds it up to your lips. “Taste.” His grin is teasing, but his eyes are soft.

When you hesitate, he boops your nose with his sauce-covered finger instead. “Fine, I’ll just feed you myself~”

And he does, gently pressing his finger to your lips, watching with a very satisfied smile as you taste it.

He gets playful, stealing tiny bites of ingredients, making a mess on purpose just so he can pout and say, “Guess we have to clean up together~”

Randomly back hugs you while you stir the pot, chin resting on your shoulder. Sways you side to side, murmuring, “We should cook together like this every day.”

When you finally finish, he sits you down, insisting he plates everything. “I have to impress you, obviously.”

He watches so intently as you take your first bite, eyes glowing when you tell him it’s good.

Then, with zero warning, he tackles you into another hug, peppering quick kisses all over your face. “You’re officially my cooking partner for life!”

He keeps holding on, swaying with you in his arms, mumbling something about how he loves this—loves you—but quickly covers it up with a loud, “Okay, now dessert!” before you can tease him.

CHOI JUNG HO !

You casually mention a pool technique Jongho once ranted about, throwing in a term he’s definitely used before.

He stops mid-shot, cue stick still in position, and just stares at you. Like you just told him you’ve secretly been a pool champion this whole time.

“Wait… how do you know that?” His voice is calm, but his eyes are so wide.

When you shrug and say you’ve heard him talk about it, he exhales, shaking his head with the smallest, flustered smile. “I really talk too much, huh?”

Tries to act unaffected, but the way he keeps rubbing the back of his neck definitely gives him away.

Offers to test your knowledge, stepping behind you and adjusting your stance, his hands warm as they rest on your arms.

He’s way too close now, voice soft as he murmurs, “Like this.” His breath tickles your ear, and you swear he’s doing it on purpose.

Guides your shot, his grip firm but gentle. When you actually make it in, he grins so proudly, ruffling your hair. “Not bad.”

But the second he takes a shot, you distract him by casually complimenting his form. His cue stick slips, and he glares at you while you laugh. “You did that on purpose.”

Tries to act mad but fails because he loves seeing you smile. “Alright, if that’s how we’re playing…”

Next thing you know, he’s caging you against the table, one hand flat beside you, smirking. “Maybe I should play like this. You wouldn’t be able to focus either.”

You shove him, and he finally bursts into laughter, pulling you into a quick hug before letting you go.

As the game goes on, he casually feeds you small snacks between turns, making sure you’re comfortable without even thinking about it.

When you win a round, he groans, flopping dramatically onto the table. “This is rigged.”

But then he peeks at you, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I have to play with you more, huh?”

© enhateez

[alatariel-gildaen]

"You're Mine"

Polychromos and Caran D'ache Luminance on pastelmat, blended using Zest-it

[sloaneispunk]

“the carousel”

soft!frontman (hwang in-ho) x you

when frontman planned the ‘mingle’ game, he knew it was set out to kill and eliminate. what he didn’t expect was how much he was willing to compromise when he had someone to lose.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

part one

as the games continued, the tension between the players continued to increase. between the ‘x’s and ‘o’s laid a thick, heavy atmosphere. nobody knew who to trust, there had been far too many betrayals for a lifetime.

however, you yourself had one person that you trusted…

young-il.

young-il had approached you after the first game, saying how since you and him were alone you should stick together.

you had your share of skepticism but something drew you in each time you tried to pull away. young-il was just so charming, so charismatic and gentle with you. you had seen how angry he could be when standing up for the rights of each person individually but with you he was just so soft spoken.

when you went to sleep, he would stay by you. either on the edge of your bed keeping watch or laying down beside your headrest staying ever so close to you.

of course you protected him too, maybe not as brave as he was when doing so but you always made sure he was safe and healthy. you would give him extra food and even though he protested, you’d make him eat it anyway.

he loved that you were equally protective and loving towards him as he was to you. he felt a sense of pride whenever you would stand up for him. it made the young boy in him happy and he knew it.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

part two

“players please walk in an orderly fashion towards your third game.”

you were walking beside young-il as he had his hand on your back making sure that you were always with him even though you were walking with the rest of the group.

“what game do you think we’ll play now?” you asked, looking up at him.

young-il let out a small chuckle, he loved how it didn’t even sound like you knew how dire the situation you were in was.

“i’m not sure, y/n. what are you hoping it’ll be?” he replied.

“maybe hopscotch, or jump rope.”

“maybe.”

however, when you stepped into the game room, there was a giant carousel in the middle. around it were many doors painted with different colors.

“oh, what is this? a giant carousel, how strange!” jung-bae made a remark, stepping onto the giant platform.

young-il stretched out his hand for you, briefly helping you up beside him once again, you thanked him with a smile.

“the game is ‘mingle’. a song will play as the carousel spins, once the song ends and the movement comes to a stop, a number will be called out. you must then make a team of the number and head into any room of your choice.”

“that sounds easy.” dae-ho said.

“no. it can’t be that simple, it never is.”

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

part three

round one

‘round, round, round, round! let’s dance in circles!clap your hands and sing! la-la-la-la let’s have fun dancing!’

the child-like music blasted loudly as the lights started to dim. with a jerk of the platform, it started to spin.

young-il instinctively grabbed your arm, keeping you with him at all cost.

“no matter what happens, do not let go of me. you understand?” he instructed sternly as he turned to face you.

but before you could reply, the platform came to a sudden halt, causing you to stumble and grab onto young-il’s arm.

‘ten.’

then, the music abruptly stopped, a loud jarring alarm now taking its place on the speakers as the lights flashed and flickered.

“we have 6! we need 4 more!” gi-hun shouted as panic started to set in within everyone.

“we’re 4!” player 120 yelled, running towards you with 3 players behind.

“let’s go! yellow door!” young-il shouted, leading the way, his hand still grabbing onto yours.

he flung the door open and carefully led you in, making sure you were okay before going back out, holding the door for the others to enter.

as the timer hit one, he drew the door shut behind him. the lock on it clicking as he looked out.

you joined him as you stood and watched the scene unfold in front of you. it was chaos everywhere. those who were unable to find a team in time were scrambling and screaming, some even on their knees begging for the guards who were now pointing guns at them to spare them.

round two

the door clicked, unlocking itself moments later. you stepped out, met with the sight of blood and dead bodies of players around. young-il came up behind you, holding you close again. “look straight, don’t look down okay?” he whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

‘ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a’

you took in a deep breath as the platform started moving once more. this time everyone looked much more scared, you could see some shaking in fear while others were clearly enjoying themselves, linking arms and dancing in circles like a bunch of lunatics.

“four.”

your eyes shot to young-il. somehow even under the blinding flashes of lights, he looked just as handsome.

“you four go! me and y/n will find two more!” he shouted over the chaos.

“are you sure?!” gi-hun asked, skeptical to leave his friends.

“yes, go!”

with that, the six of you split ways. the four easily finding a room. gi-hun however was nervous. what if you couldn’t find a room in time? what if you couldn’t find more people?

“young-il, split up, i get one you get one!” you shouted, pulling back.

“no! y/n, don’t-”

but you didn’t listen. you knew that if you went together you wouldn’t be able to find two people in time.

“pink door! room twenty! i’ll meet you there!” you said and took off, running the opposite direction, leaving him no choice but to do as you asked.

you frantically looked everywhere for another person, it was hard to find someone that hasn’t already been dragged away by a team. then, you spotted a boy being kicked back by the two dancing lunatics.

you ran as fast as you could to him, grabbing him by the arm and leading him to room twenty. there young-il was already inside, holding open the door for you to enter.

as soon as your feet stepped inside, he shut the door tight behind you.

“my god, what were you thinking?! are you insane?!” he gently scolded, his head in his hands as he ruffled his hair.

“look, i’m okay!” you smiled, “and what did i tell you? it’s way faster that way.”

young-il let out a sigh of disbelief, rolling his eyes and he took his hands out of yours. just in time to save the two poor people in the same room, the door opened.

the boy you had saved mumbled a small ‘thank you’ before he took off, leaving you and young-il in the room alone.

“i’m sorry, i just wanted to help you.” you apologised.

“y/n, i was scared you weren’t going to come back.” he said, almost like a whisper. he walked over to you, pulling you into a hug.

“i’m sorry i-”

“don’t apologise, it’s okay. you’re a strong girl right? i knew you could do it.” he lightly chuckled, pulling away.

you offered him a smile in return, grabbing his hand again before leaving the room.

“there you guys are! we were worried sick!” a familiar voice said.

there, gi-hun and the team ran towards you, jung-bae engulfing young-il in a tight hug while dae-ho pulled you in for one too.

“hey, i’m a very likeable person. i do well in these games.” young-il joked, purposefully glancing at you, giving you a wink.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

part four

round three

‘ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, lets’s hold hands together, let’s have fun together’

‘three’

“how do you wanna do it?” you asked gi-hun who had a panic stricken look on his face.

“jung-bae, dae-ho and me! you, young-il and jun-hee!”

without question, young-il grabbed your arm again, dashing towards the nearest door before anyone could enter. he was so quick you almost couldn’t grab jun-hee’s hand in time.

after making sure everyone settled in safely unharmed, you immediately rushed to jun-hee’s side.

“was that too rough? did i hurt you? how’s your stomach?” you asked as she stood in the corner trying to catch her breath.

young-il watched without saying a word. he was immediately in a trance just by watching you, seeing you so gentle and kind towards people in need. it made him regret recruiting a kind soul like you into the game. he knew right then that it was either you or the game, especially once you found out exactly who he was.

round four

“how many more rounds do we have to play? i’m getting exhausted.” you said practically collapsing onto young-il as the platform stopped suddenly, not giving time for you to recover before the game started again.

“six.”

you were so exhausted you couldn’t even process everything that was happening, all you knew was that young-il was leading you by your hand straight into another room where you were met with familiar faces, the old lady’s team… but someone was missing.

1,2,3,4,5…

…player 095

“where is she?!” you asked, suddenly aware of the situation.

you could hear young-il’s voice telling you to stay in place and that he would go out and look for her but you ignored him, pulling open the door.

there you saw her on the floor, crying for help. but before you could step out, someone pushed you back into the room, knocking you back and locking the door behind him.

you felt a pair of hands immediately grab onto your stomach, catching you before you fell. young-il pulled you back, your body flush against him as the boy turned around, just as the timer hit zero and the door locked itself.

“nonono what did you do?!” player 120 shouted at him, shoving him to look out the hole. “young-mi! young-mi! no!”

“i just saved your lives! she wouldn’t have made it in time anyway!” he scoffed back.

“unnie!” young-mi cried, the pain in her voice piercing everyone’s heart.

“young-il.” you cried, turning to face away from the heartbreaking sight. you could still hear her cries as you buried your head into young-il’s chest. his arms wrapping around your body as he tried to comfort you.

then, there was a silent gunshot and the cries stopped.

for the first time, young-il felt a sense of guilt from the games. a stinging wave of sadness spread throughout his whole being.

maybe it was holding your shaking and exhausted body, or hearing your cries that made him soft again. he wasn’t sure whether to hate you or love you for it.

when the doors opened, everyone was still in a state of shock and grief.

“c’mon, it’s okay, it’s almost over.” he said softly as he guided you back onto the carousel.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

part five

final round

“it’s two.” young-il said coldly, looking around.

“how do you know?” you asked.

“at least a hundred people left, fifty rooms. they’re going to make us fight for it, that’s what they do…”

‘two’

without wasting a second, you and young-il ran towards the closest room.

this round was the more vicious and violent, everyone threw away their morales. there were some kicking others out of rooms, dragging teams away.

you must not have been paying attention because just as you were about to enter the room, right behind young-il, a pair of hands grabbed you from your waist, lifting you in the air and throwing you aside causing you to scream young-il’s name.

young-il whipped his head around, seeing you land on the floor, hitting your head in the process. rage fueled him as he pounced onto the man, giving you time to go into the room.

however, you were met with the sight of another man.

“get out.” you told him.

“no! we were here first!” he shouted back.

just then, young-il came running in, shutting the door behind him. when he saw another person in the room, he was fast to react, launching himself at the man.

“hey fuckin’ let me in!” a voice yelled from the outside.

you jumped into action, pressing your back towards the door, holding it shut while others tried to come in.

you looked up at the timer in the room.

10 seconds

young-il knew exactly what to do, he just wondered if it was the right thing to do in front of you. but as seconds passed, he knew for certain what he had to do if he wanted you to survive.

9

he grabbed the man by the neck, keeping him in a headlock

8

you could see the fear in the man’s eyes

7

the man started choking

6

his legs started to thrash around

5

he was fighting for every breath he could take

4

young-il’s grip tightened

3

‘crack’

2

silence filled the room

1

your eyes were wide open in shock as you waited for young-il to break the silence.

“y/n, i’m so sorry.” he finally said, putting down the now lifeless body onto the ground as he made his way to you.

you were beyond taken aback with the sight that was in front of you, hand over your mouth as you started to breathe quickly.

“hey, no, no. please don’t be scared. it’s me, y/n, it’s okay.” he said with that same gentle voice of his when he was talking to you, just not in a situation like this.

he took your hand away from your face, bringing it down and held your face in his hands.

“look at me please.” he said, his voice now so, so soft, almost as if he was pleading.

you blinked away tears as you slowly looked at young-il, staring deep into his brown eyes.

“thatta girl, it’s okay… i did what i had to do to keep you safe…” he said. “that’s what i promised you right?”

you nodded.

he leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead before stepping back. he wiped away your tears with his hands before taking your hand in his again, leading you out as the game came to an end.

what the fuck just happened?

[creamecafe]

hii could u write something for Dae-ho set in the mingle game and its basically just him protecting reader and always keeping them at his side. 🫶🫶🫶

"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you"

Summary: What the request says

Pairing: Dae-Ho x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

Warnings: fluff, comfort, pining

Word Count:

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy!

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

It's a miracle that you have made it to the third game. You were sure you were going to die in the second game, but thanks to the team you had, you were more than determined to still stay alive

Out of all them, there was one that you kept looking at. Dae-Ho. You couldn't help but find him cute. This certainly wasn't the place to have feelings as you could die before telling him.

It was the same for Dae-Ho, trying to make sure everyone is ok and that the team survives. But it was something with you.

He felt safe with you, and wanted to protect you. Even if it meant giving his life for you.

The announcement for the third game came, you were worried, but wanted it to be over it. Dae-Ho noticed you being anxious and asked if you okay

"Are you okay?"

You stopped zoning out and looked at him with your heart pounding.

"What? Y-yes I'm ok thank you." Nodding trying to reassure yourself.

"I think this might be the last game I play in." You chuckled knowing deep inside you dreaded the idea

"Hey look at me."

You did as he said. "Don't say that, you have us."

He held out your hand to hold it. You looked at it and hesitated putting your hand out but you held it. A tight squeeze was given but not too rough. It was a sign of reassuring.

He gives you a smile and you did too not of full happiness but someone is here to care about you.

All of you guys were called for the game. You got up and stayed close to Dae-Ho. He looked back at you and nodded. You did the same.

It was the same, climbing up those colorful but dreading stairs to the next game. Every minute or two, Dae-Ho made sure you were right behind him.

You finally reached the game and saw a carousel in the middle with horses and so many doors of different bright colors for a Pre-K setting.

"Welcome to your third game." The woman's voice from the previous games you heard came on the speakers.

"The game you will be playing is Mingle. Let me repeat. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

Turning your head to look at Dae-Ho, he's already looking at you.

You quickly look away not to make the situation worse. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable as well.

"All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh this game? We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging." Jung-bae exclaimed.

"Yeah. Instead of hugging, we go into those rooms" Dae-Ho mentioned.

"If the number is bigger than six, we'll get the additional people we need." Gi-Hun

And if it's less than that? You thought in your mind

"But what if it's smaller than five? Like three or four

You turned your head to Dae-Ho. It's like he read your mind exactly.

"No matter what happens, don't panic. Let's stay calm," Young-il nods. "We'll make it out together. Here."

Those words echoing in your mind, there wasn't enough time to doubt if your group would stick with you.

You've seen how quickly people are to turn against each other especially in the Red Light, Green Light.

But you're more than determined to stay alive, just to see Dae-Ho's face every chance you get.

Young-il puts the back side of hand out to form a truce. One by one, everyone is putting their hands on top of each other. You were the last one.

"Y/N. Are you in?" Gi-Hun asks.

Dae-Ho looks at you with worry in his eyes. You had no choice and no knowledge of trusting others in this game, so you put your hand out on top.

Dae-Ho becomes relieved at this.

"One, two, three. Victory at all costs."

Sighing at this with relief, you guys begin to spread out. The carousel is starting to spin

People scream out in fear. Lights go out and the light in the middle where horses out lights ups and music plays.

Children are singing about holding hands and ringing around.

Dae-Ho holds your hand lightly. He grazes your hand with his thumb. You don't look at him, as you fear you'll die doing so.

It suddenly stops. The number is 9. People are running out frantically pairing in groups of 9. Dae-Ho doesn't let go of your hand.

"We need 3 more." You said. Your group ran looking for 3 more.

A old lady, her son and another woman goes up to you guys.

"Are you guys 3?" Young-il asks

"Yes we're." The old lady nods frantically.

"Quickly we got to get into a room" Gi Hun exclaims

Your feet were starting to move, but the grip of Dae-Ho holding your hand made you move even faster.

All of you guys rushed into a room and closed the door. The room was filled with heavy breaths. There was a click on the lock meaning that the room was closed and nobody can get in or out.

Right now, you have never been more grateful to be alive in playing a game

It wasn't long before you heard gunshots, and it was safe to assume it was those who didn't pair up or get into rooms in time.

Now that you're safe, you look at Dae-Ho and he does too.

"Is everyone ok?" Dae-Ho asks

There was a lot of yes. That answer might change throughout the game seeing how long each of us might last.

The door lock clicked and you guys were allowed to come out. There were bodies on the floors and blood splattered. "Take off your mind off those bodies or you'll be one of them" Your mind was telling yourself.

"We got this" Dae-Ho talks to you

"We do" You smiled. Don't know how many smiles it will take to keep going, but you're ready to prove his point.

The game started again and the carousel spins. You hold out to Dae-Ho's hand.

Now the number was 4. Young-il grabs Jung-Bae and goes to find two more people. That's left Gi-Hun, Jun-Hee, Dae-Ho and you left.

There was no time to waste. All four you ran to a room and locked yourself in. Gi-Hun was looking around for Young-il. You pulled him back in.

The gunshots came again. The lesser the number, the more likely people will betray each other.

How long this game will last, you don't know. All you know is that you have people here to help you. Even if it's just one person, it makes all the difference.

The doors clicked and it was time for another round. The panic and adrenaline of it all keeps coming back. But Dae-Ho is making sure you're by his side, even if he may die in the game as well.

Six the group was. Dae-Ho said you and him were going to go and find another group. Luckily you did and you managed to still be alive locked in a room.

Now it all came down to the very last game. There were less people than the game started. You wanted to finish this for once and for all. While the carousel was spinning and music playing, you place yourself in movement ready to run and holding Dae-Ho's hand.

"2" The voice said.

It felt like time was going slow once it announced the number. Everybody is rushing to get into a room. Time's running out.

You felt a hand pull you back and you fell to the ground. Dae-Ho heard your scream and saw someone trying to stop you from going into a room. Someone else was already in the room that you guys were planning to go into.

Dae-Ho could go into the room and that would already make it two. But he's made it too far to leave you.

He ran and punched the guy that pushed you. He put you back on your feet and dragged the other guy out. He slammed the door shut and the timer just came to zero. The guy on the other side begs and bangs on the door.

A pink guard shoots him and the noises stop.

"Are you ok?" Dae-Ho rushes to you.

Still shaken at what happened, at the fact you almost died if it wasn't for him to save you, you nodded.

"Yes I am. Thank you."

There was a moment of silence between you too as you were catching your breaths.

The door clicked and you both came out.

"Y/N! Dae-Ho!" Both of your names were being called

Gi-Hun, Young-il, Jung-Bae and Jun-Hee run up to you guys and you all hug each other.

"I'm so glad you guys are ok." Jun-Hee smiles

You're also relieved that everyone else is fine and made it out alive. You could return back to the dorms.

Walking down back the stairs and into the dorms, everyone was mostly silent but some talked.

You ran up and tapped Dae-Ho on the shoulder.

"Hey Dae-Ho?"

"Yes Y/N?"

"You could have gone into the room where the other guy before you dragged him out, why didn't you?"

Dae-Ho took a pause before responding.

"I have lost many people when I was a marine, seen people get killed in front of me. I can't let it happen to you."

He starts to become close to you but not too close.

"As long as I'm still alive, I'll make sure you're fine. That's a promise I tend to keep Y/N."

Those words stuck with you. You could die in the next game, but right here at this moment is a reason to keep going.

Taglist:

@hobinistaworld

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Kang Dae-Ho Masterlist | Join my taglist!

[wtfaniii]

I can do it alone, but he can also save me

Fem reader x Hwang In-ho / Fem reader x Hwang Jun-ho

Part 1 Part 2

"Jun-ho's girlfriend was a decorated policegirl, strong and brave, she, along with Gi-hun were taken to the games to stop them, however, there was a setback in between"

Note: Thank you for welcoming me so well on this platform! I'm still learning how to use it, sorry, Wattpad is my thing LOL But I'm understanding it more now

Warning: Maybe some drama? Some violence and discreet flirting

The reader doesn't know who is In-ho, Jun-ho refused to talk about his past with her, so she is engrossed in the true identity of this handsome man.

Well, the plan hadn't worked out the way they wanted.

They had taken away their trackers and any object, even the smallest, that they could use to defend themselves.

—Now what do we do... —Gi-hun muttered more to himself but audible to the girl in front him.

—I think the best thing to do now would be not to die —she answered seriously, the vows had been made and unfortunately, despite Gi-hun's attempts to persuade the players to withdraw, staying had been the final decision —For now we must eat if we want to win the next game —She added holding out in front of him the food the guards were giving them, but he refused to take it, he looked so lost in his own mind that she had no choice but to sigh and sit down next to him.

—Come on, open your mouth, belly full and heart happy —Jung-bae, Gi-hun's friend sitting on his right side, spoke while holding a spoon with the egg in front of his face.

—Last time I was here, many innocent people died —Gi-hun said, looking at his friend seriously. He wanted to convince him that everything he said was true and that they should leave there as soon as possible.

—Help us then.

There was a third voice that caught the girl's attention, it was number 001, the one who had the decisive vote and preferred to stay, whoever had the blue circle was a suicidal person from her perspective.

The rest of the players surrounded them waiting for some advice or positive words from the previous winner.

The girl just listened attentively to each of them, but the most interested was 001. He asked him more concise questions and spoke confidently, as if these games were not very different from the ones they played at recess when they were little.

Something that seemed curious to her.

He felt her gaze so turned it towards her so he could look the police in the eye.

Of course he had investigated her, from the moment she searched for her boyfriend on land and sea, he wouldn't say it out loud but his brother was lucky because if it hadn't been for her him would be dead under water.

Her eyes looked at him with caution and analysis, like a cat looking at a dog with distrust but ready to scratch if the situation arose.

He found it interesting.

After the rest of the players left, 001 stayed with them to continue talking until the conversation increased in tension, Gi-hun complained to him, if he hadn't voted for the circle they would have left there.

—Fine, let's stop this conversation now, there's no point in blaming each other —Jung-bae said to avoid any upcoming fight.

—That's right, now what we have to do is be prepared for the next game —She said —We have a bit of an advantage —added, looking at Gi-hun.

—I would like to join too —said number 388 jumping out of his bed.

He introduced himself as Dae-ho and the conversation changed from the winning player to the navy and the fact that both he and Jung-bae had been members.

It seemed like they would get along well and be a good team, however, the atmosphere became tense again when the purple-haired boy with the number 230 threw player 333 to the ground, being followed by 124, who kicked him in the face.

—¿Shouldn't we tell them to stop? — Jung-bae asked.

—Yes...

Seeing that neither of the two men was going to intervene, the girl stood up and walked towards them.

—That's enough, two against one isn't fair.

—You better stay out of this —Thanos pointed at her angrily, but after looking at her closely, he let out a laugh and clapped his hands, which echoed throughout the room and caught everyone's attention —I know you, you... policegirl, you arrested me a month ago.

Now she remembered it too, of course, that snobby rapper who tried to bribe her after she caught him buying and transporting drugs but she decided to ignore him and walked to 333 to shake his hand. —Get up

Before he could accept her kind gesture, Thanos pushed her back failing to knock down.

—This is not your playground, policegirl, I can do whatever the fuck I want here.

She remained silent, still with head held high, she was not afraid of him at all, she could easily defeat him but did not have time to do or say anything when 001 intervened.

—That's no way to talk to a lady.

She could defend herself, she didn't need any man to speak for her, however, that sentence seemed quite chivalrous, Jun-ho also intervened for her from time to time and that was a gesture that inevitably made her smile.

A smile that In-ho noticed.

—Is she your girlfriend? Or do you just fuck her? —As soon as he finished the word, In-ho already had him firmly held by the hair.

124 ran towards them with the intention of helping the purple-haired boy but in the blink of an eye he was already on the ground, the girl had knocked down with a kick.

With just three blows, In-ho subdued Thanos and pinned to the ground.

She silently analyzed him again, those movements were too precise to be from someone without experience, he could have been part of the police or even the navy.

They were congratulated with applause when the 230 began to gasp for air and forgiveness. As returned to their place, they both formally introduced themselves by giving respective names, a sign of trust.

Once again In-ho confirmed what thought, she was a respectable and valuable woman, one he would like to challenge more than should have for having gotten into these games.

N/A: I wanted to make a fic with a theme like that HAHA

[eupheme]

— the suit(s) stay on

[part iv of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 6.2k

tags: MMF threesome, dirty talk, triad poly relationship, holiday cheer, considerable filth with a side of feelings, yearning, double blow-job, frotting, hair-tugging, swallowing, come sharing/eating, reference to fisting, teasing, DVP/double vaginal sex, creampies

a/n: a belated halloween update, revised with a holiday theme 🎄💖

It’s torture, how good they look. How your eyes can’t help but wander at the holiday fundraiser - admiring the tight cling of their suits. Unable to help the itch in your fingers - all too eager to reach out and touch.

(or - you can’t wait to get your boyfriends home.)

You're not quite sure if you're going to be able to make it through tonight.

It’s definitely an exaggeration. Mostly. You're not that weak-willed. Or at least - that's what you tell yourself, as your eyes flick across the room for the eightieth time in the last fifteen minutes.

Almost missing the cup that you're adorning with sprinkles. A little "whoops" with a smile - the whipped cream covered in a dusting of glittering red and green, before it's handed off to the child in front of you.

Before your eyes snap across the room again.

It's just - Wade. The suit - it's been a while since you've seen him wear it for this long. Getting more comfortable in his skin without it, not needing the familiar cling to feel at home.

You think that has to be from Logan.

Logan, who's made progress as well - who no longer felt like he was letting the ones in his memories down, if he removed it. Who's figuring out how to toe the line between his old world and now - weekends slowly spent in warm flannels and worn, old jeans.

As much as it warms your heart - that you're glad, that you've been hoping for something for this - you still can't help the little flicker of appreciation.

The tight wrap of red leather and lyra. Even with his gaudy, cat-patterned 'meowy christmas' sweater - you had unfortunately had to veto "santa's favorite ho" and "jingle balls" - he looks good.

Too good.

And when he crouches down next to a boy in a reindeer sweater, the crinkle of his white eyes as he "oohs" and "ahhs" over the drawing clutched triumphantly in their fist - you have to resist the urge to sink your teeth into your fist.

Something soft and warm deep stirs inside you. Caught on the ease of his laugh - the way his head cocks at the kid chatters, leaning so casually and comfortably against your boyfriend’s shoulder.

You think your heart melts completely when you spot Logan at the next table over - grabbing another box from the floor, handing over art supplies. Yukio and Ellie on the other side - restocking the craft corner they set up.

The way you can see his mouth - lips curving at the corner as he leans over the barstool in front of him. Two smaller girls turning towards him, all four of them laughing at something he said - a marker pointed towards one of the drawings.

You don't know if you've ever been so happy. Or captivated, something about the gentle way they move, paired with the ferocity of the suit - what it means, the adoration that follows them - does something to you.

But, the holiday fundraiser at Sister Margaret's is still in full swing - you'll just have to get a hold of yourself.

An actual contribution to wayward girls at hand, and you have to admit that the place cleans up pretty well, once scrubbed.

The tables cleaned up, the low neon exchanged for the fluorescent lights above. Blood mopped from the floor from the last brawl - the chalkboard above covered by thick strings of garland, blotting out the names.

Filled with regulars and their families. Faces you recognize, friends of Wade’s. Friends you’ve gotten to know well - one of them slipping from the back of the crowd, making their way over to you.

"Hey."

Laura leans against the bar, where you've set up shop. Swapping hard liquor and shots for eggnog and cups of hot chocolate, spiraling towers of whipped cream.

"Hi," You smile, "You having a good time?"

She hums. Sinking onto one of the stools, her chin propped in the cup of her palm, "Good enough."

A slight smile, and you get it - she enjoys crowds as much as Logan does. You've gotten to know her more in the past weeks, especially as your and Wade's relationship with her father grew.

Became public, even - Wade unable to hold back the brag that the two of you had “finally cuffed this zaddy”, a thumb hitched towards Logan during another one of your movie nights.

But with the way you had seen him trying to hide his smile behind the roll of his eyes - you thought Logan hadn’t had minded.

Either that - or, he hadn’t understood a word Wade had said.

"Hot chocolate?" You wiggle a striped cup at her, and she nods.

"Logan seems to, too." Her head tips towards the table - somewhere in the last minute, he'd been coaxed to join. Elbows tucked close as he fits himself into an open space at the end, folded onto the old chair.

A beat - the milk still heating, as she adds, "It's... nice."

"I think so, too." Your smile only widens when Logan's head tilts your way, a hand raised - his ears must have been burning.

Laura waves back, as you beam.

"I don't remember my-," The words cut off, with a breath. A guilty look, as she corrects herself, "The Logan I knew didn't smile a lot. Not like this."

You never knew the Logan from your world. Knew of him - whispers, as you had gotten older. That door opening wider after you met Wade. Starting meeting his friends.

"I know he cared about you." You begin, carefully.

Her dark eyes turn your way - appraising. A small nod.

"I know that. I just mean..." Laura turns fully, then - the bar stool pivoting until she faces you, "You and Wade make sense."

The scoop hovers above the cup, as you frown. Unsure where she's going, and she must tell from your expression.

"But the two of you and Logan," She's quick to add on, "I think that makes sense, too. I think you both make him happy. And it's..."

Silence hangs again for a heartbeat, but this time, you understand.

"Yeah." It's good. It's a change - that tight tension easing from his shoulders. Smiles, like she said. Laughter, even if both still come slowly, they're still there.

"But you know that you have a lot to do with that as well, right?"

An uncomfortable look swims across her face. Not used to a compliment turned back around on her. Not used to seeing from a different points of view.

Even if it’s true. Even if you’ve seen the way her presence has affected him, the way he’s come to care about her much like the way this world’s Logan did.

"Anyways, I just wanted to tell you thanks." Her eyes drop, a brush-off of your earlier encouragement, "We're, I'm not that good at this-"

A little half-shrug, as her eyes flick back to yours.

"I know. You did great," You smile, lightly teasing, "And I still like you both, anyway."

In reality, it takes all your strength to resist the urge to reach across the bar and hug her. But you don't - don't want to scare her away. This had already meant more than you could ever say.

Instead, you swirl the whipped cream high. Letting your hand squeeze hers for just a second, as you pass it over.

From the way she smiles - you think she understands.

You almost make it home without an incident. Should have known by the way Wade’s hand swung in yours. Whistling a bastardized version of christmas carols a little too cheerfully - Logan’s knuckles brushing against his on the other side.

A block away from their apartment, before he’s eying you.

“So did you have fun, gorgeous?”

“Yes,” You answer, suspiciously, “Why did you ask it like that?”

“Dunno,” The whites of his eyes curve into half-moons, “Guess I’m just a little sore from you eye-pegging me every time I bent over.”

There’s a rough huff of a laugh, as your head whips to the side. Unable to help the smile, the roll of your own eyes.

“Was it the suit?”

His fingers flick at the cotton-balled end of the hat he still wears. The red velvet a deeper shade than his suit - a stolen memento from his brief stint passing out presents.

“Because if it was, Al’s car is parked right over there.” Wade’s voice drops, “Plenty of time for the ol’ Bad Santa and a hose-down before she gets home. Hell, if we get in the back seat she might not even notice-”

“Not from that suit.” Logan interrupts, his eyebrow lifting when his head turns your way, “You got a thing for leather, sweetheart?”

“Oh thank god.” Wade sighs, “You know I’ve met Santa? Tried to kill him, actually. Long story, it was for the children, but let’s just say he would not be happy about this impersonation.”

“It’s just your suits.” You clarify - turning to face them, as you stand at the entrance to the apartment, “But specifically, you in your suits. It’s just-”

Unable to help the grin, the shake of your head, “Ovary-exploding, really. Truly not fair.”

Logan’s look darkens, as heat floods through your cheeks, “That what’s had your heart racing all night?”

It distracts you, for just a moment.

You frown.

“How long have you been able to hear our heartbeats?”

Had he always? Did he spend weeks knowing how you and Wade felt about him - only to pull back, waiting?

The hungry edge sharpens - a sideways, lingering glance towards Wade.

“Just since I’ve started listening.”

Laura’s words burn through you, the memory of them melding with his look, settling low in your belly.

“Fuck.” You breathe.

Wade makes a sound of agreement, as he steps closer. Red pressing against yellow, as they cage you in against the front door.

“Seconded, babe. Clean up on aisle my pants.”

Logan scoffs, a glance over his shoulder - eyebrow cocked.

“That’s what did it for you?”

“What?” Wade shugs, “You know that emotional intimacy turns me on.”

A low growl as a red-gloved hand drops for an indulgent squeeze, before he’s reaching for the handle.

“Now let’s get inside before we make the naughty list for indecent exposure.”

“Is this what you wanted?”

Logan’s eyes are milky-white beneath the cowl. Jawline sharp with the cut of blue, framing the curve of his lips.

“You’ve seen it before.”

Snapshots of moments. Picking you up from work, as they’re on their way home from Sister Margaret’s.

Minutes snatched in the early morning - peeling away from a shared bed, letting you doze as they quickly suit up. Leaving the thoughts to burrow into your fantasies.

“Not like this.” You sigh, letting your fingers trace over his chest piece. Stepping close enough until you can smell the cling of leather and metal.

His strong frame even more broad, with the curved shoulder pads. Fearsome - and it makes your breath catch as your palm flattens over his heart.

“You want us to fuck you in our suits?” Wade’s voice croons in your ear - hand curling around your waist, tugging you back against him, “That what you’ve been thinking about?”

The lower-half of his mask tugged up, lips pressing against the soft space under your ear. Feeling what Logan hears - the hammer of your heart beneath skin.

“Yes.” You moan. Liking the feeling of being between them now, the chill of the leather and kevlar against your heated skin.

Unable to help the turn of your head. Meeting his mouth, the swipe of his tongue as his palm smoothes along your shoulder, down to your wrist. Fingers curling around, guiding your hand until it cups against yellow leather.

A command, breathed out against your lips.

“Then get him out and ready for us.”

There’s the sharp inhale of breath, a shift of Logan’s hips into your hand. You smile - lips touching down at the places your fingers linger.

His chin, the blue curve of cowl. Down the panels of his chest, the ridges that line up with the abs beneath.

A little frown as you thumb at his belt buckle, as you sit back on your heels. The red X fixed in place, the clasps still unknown to you.

“Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.” Logan husks, chin lifting as his hands curl around his belt - a nod towards the pretty clothes you wore to the party.

You bite back a grin, as you follow - matching his speed.

A sweater exchanged for the loosening of his belt. Rising up so you can shimmy out of a skirt, as his zipper lowers.

Letting it pool against the floor - your tights peeled off next - as he eases himself out.

“Fuck, gorgeous.” Wade breathes, just as your tongue peeks out to drag up Logan’s shaft, “You were hiding that away all night?”

The matching lace set you wear beneath. Not that you were planning *this,* but with Althea away for the weekend you had certainly been hoping.

Logan makes a rough sound of assent, as you take him between your lips. Velvet throbbing against your tongue as you moan around him - working him to full hardness.

Your nose brushing against the armor as his fingers trace along the strap at your shoulder. A low rumble in his throat, hips canting into the warm suck of your mouth.

Spit pooling on your tongue, as your hand curls around him - a slow pump as your head bobs.

“Get Wade ready, too.” Logan’s hand spans the back of your neck, easing you off him, “Gonna take both of us tonight, right?”

“Oh fuck,” Wade hands settle on his belt - pleased that Logan is playing along with your fantasy, “Yes.  Thank you-”

But this you know how to do - a kiss against the heft of Logan’s dick before you’re reaching for Wade. Fingers replacing his, slipping against the hidden zipper.

Lips pressing against the bulge, his hips shifting forward. Hard and leaking when you work him free. A soft sound as your lips wrap around him, swallowing him down.

Eyes shut, as you feel the weight against your tongue. Trying to take him down to the root, his hand cradling your jaw.

Flicking back open to peek up at him - the now-bare lower half of his face, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

Teasing him, with the way you hold him in your mouth. Eyes shut as your tongue licks against the scarred skin, another lewd curse slipping from him.

Reaching for Logan again, your fist sliding against slick skin. He shifts closer, shoulder nudging Wade’s. A red-clad glove shifting to his ass again, but he only groans when you come back to him.

The old rug scrapes against your knees. Leaving a glossy print against their hips as you alternate the press of your lips.

Your hands wrapped around the base of their cocks. Angling them into your mouth as you lick and suck. Stroking, as your saliva smears against their skin, heat curling in your belly at the way they surround you.

Leaning into your touch, the familiarity of it. Skin apit-slick as the tip glides against your lips. Saliva pooling on your tongue, as you let it drip down his shaft.

Kisses peppered against yellow and red, as hands wander. The straps loosened on your bra, until they’re palming at your tits.

Low grunts melding with your sighs, as they shift closer. A slow shift until you’re fixed between them - a calculated look thrown their way before your fingers wrap around their shafts.

Another inch closer. Letting the tips nudge together, eyes half-lidded in fascination as spit strings between them.

Twin sounds slipping through the air, huffed breath and low grunts. Teasing them, before wrapping the curl of your hand around Where they touch.

There’s a growled-out “fuck”. A hand that cups the back of your head, easing you back to them. Your tongue peeking out to drag across each tip when your fist slides back.

A slow back-and-forth - hips pumping into the clutch of your hand, just off-sync from each other.

“Gonna make Lo come, gorgeous.”

It’s answered with a huff that comes out strangled.

Your eyes rove across him. Across thick thighs, the gape of his suit at his base and the dark smattering of hair beneath.

Up to the curve of Logan’s chest. Where his head tilts down, eyes dark above the broad suit.

Sharp points of his teeth, between parted lips.

“That right?” You coo, “Want you to. Look so good like this, baby.”

Reaching, your nails dragging against the yellow and blue. The slightest lean into your palm, as if he wishes it were against bare skin.

Logan makes a low sound - turning rough as Wade’s hand reaches across. Curving around his shaft, stroking. Tighter, rougher than you would - the leather creaking as his fist twists.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Wade hums, “Only took 24 years but it was well worth the wait, peanut.”

“You look good too, honey,” You can’t help but grin up at him, as your head turns. Tilting to press a kiss against his hip, as his hand keeps stroking, “Know I can’t never get enough of you like this.”

He laughs - a twist of his hips, the heavy swing of his cock as his tilts his ass towards you.

“Don’t have to butter me up, gorgeous. This thing is goddamn painted on and I thank Graham Churchyard every day for it.”

You laugh, before letting the curl of your tongue tease them again. Eyes tipping up to find Logan’s, as you let the tip slide against your lips again. Letting them part, as Wade tugs.

It’s too much.

There’s the sharp grit of teeth. Breath huffed out, a hand twisting roughly in your hair as you coo out his name.

You just manage to catch the low rasp of warning before Logan is spilling across your tongue. His release painting your lips, a smear across your chin before you’re able to take him into your mouth.

Swallow him down, as Wade works him empty.

If he were a lesser man, his knees would buckle.

Instead, he slips from you. Sinking down slowly, those blown-dark eyes on yours as he thumbs at his mess. Scooping the drip from your lip, feeding it back to you. Letting your teeth nip at his thumb, when it presses down against your tongue.

Mouth slotting to yours after, hands cupping your jaw. A hungry groan, with the soft swipe of his tongue.

Guiding you back to Wade, as he shifts behind you, your back pressed snugly against his chest.

“Come on, pretty girl.”

Wade’s fist is already working. The rough slide of leather-on-skin, lips parted with a groan.

He likes a show. Likes the way there’s still a hand around your neck. Another twisted in your hair, tilting your face up, though you need no coaxing.

Your tongue is already out. Pink and waiting, eyes set side-by-side as you and Logan both watch.

“Oh, baby girl.” Wade coos, a stutter in the flick of his wrist, “You belong on your knees, don’t you?”

Your eyes crinkle with your smile, head tilting back further. His eyes slide over your shoulder - a flash of teeth as he grins, too.

“Not leaving you out, Lo. I mean - raw, next question.” He tells Logan, “People’s Magazine knew their shit in 2008. Can’t say the same about now. I mean, Krasinski? I’m offended for you, frankly-“

There’s a rough hum, but there’s no bite behind it. Cozy in his afterglow, a shift of his hips against yours. The minute tightening of his grip, and if you didn’t know better - you might have thought he’d liked it.

Wade’s cock taps against your tongue.

“Tell me how much you want it.”

You can feel yourself clench at his words. Aching for something to fill you - tempted to drag Logan’s hand down.

“Wade, please.”

You can hear the whine in your voice. The need - throat flexing against Logan’s palm.

Wade’s white eyes narrowing. Teeth bared as he pants. Logan’s impatient huff, his voice coming low.

“Stop fucking around, Red.”

His hand joining - overlapping. Increasing the pressure as Wade groans, the tip gliding across your tongue, between your lips.

“Can’t a guy want a little praise, too?” Wade huffs, but you can hear it - how it slips from him, breathless.

Logan’s laugh is rough, “That right? Then be good, and come for us.”

“Jesus fuck-”

It slips from him as a rattled gasp, two more pumps and then he’s coming. Logan’s other hand keeping you in place, as Wade purposely makes it messy.

Against your tongue, lips, chin. Logan’s knuckles, dripping against the divots.

They’re offered to you. Brough up to your lips - your tongue dragging across each one, before Logan’s mouth presses against yours.

Groaning at the way you still taste like him. Like Wade, like you - deepening the kiss until you’re left breathless.

“Wish I could take you both.” It’s almost whined out. Eyes glassy, as his thumb swipes against your chin. Dipping between his lips, as Wade drops down to his knees to join you.

Unable to take them the way you want to. Frustrated with having to choose - a messy kiss that started at one shaft, ending at the other.

Logan chuckles - the sound a rough rumble in his chest, before he lets Wade taste himself on his tongue.

“Mm. I think we can manage that.”

This what you needed.

Not that you didn’t like before. You still shiver at the thought, the pinch of their fingers. Logan’s hand at your throat. The way Wade moaned. His words.

But you’re mindless, now. A lazy, figure-eight of your tongue. Jaw opening wide to suck, trying to see if they’ll both fit.

Propped up against a strong chest and abdomen, hardened with the armor. Your hazy concentration only marred by the wet drag of a tongue between your thighs.

You’re sure Logan’s working too hard. If he wanted to taste you, he only had to part his lips. Surely, you must be dripping for them.

“Goddamn. Hope y’all are hungry,” Wade coos, “because I am stroganoff this beef.”

You groan, as the curl of his thumb and finger - his grip stretched wide - flick towards the pink peek of your tongue.

It’s Logan’s idea, but Wade’s design.

A careful positioning, like before.

Funny how pliant Logan’s become, in these weeks since the beginning. Back when he was as stiff-backed as the chair he sat on. That crumpled paper in his fists. Snarling. Protesting. Denying.

Now, he let himself be pushed back on the mattress. Cock already half-hard with the prospect of more.

Narrowed eyes as Wade had nudged his thighs wider, settling between them, but he had only cooed.

“Don’t forget - gonna make you beg for it.” A kiss pressed against a knee, as Wade had patted his flank. “Only then, honey badger.”

“You wish.” It’s huffed out - paired with an eye roll, half-hearted and hidden beneath his cowl. His gaze simmering after, considering, as hands tug at your hips.

Guiding you into place - a low rumble when Logan’s gifted with your knees pressed into the bed on either side of his face.

All the better for you to taste them.

Twin sighs, when Wade’s bare hand had wrapped around - his teeth already sinking into the leather tip of his gloves, ripping them free.

Spitting into his palm, impatient. Your eyes fixed on how their skin grew slick, as Wade lined them up.

Pressing together. Fully hard by the time your head had dipped to taste them.

They slip against your tongue now, as a hand grasps at your waist. Using you as an anchor as Logan’s hips shift, chasing the sensations. Trying to tug you further against his mouth, dark eyes long closed in concentration.

Licking hungrily at your folds, the curl of a finger tugging your panties to the side. Stretching the elastic until it cuts into your skin, but it’s forgotten in the way the pleasure surges against the pointed flick of his tongue.

His cowl long tugged off, left on the side table. A hindrance, in his urge to bury his face against you - your hips rocking as you moan around their cocks.

Trying to take them deeper. Letting the drool drip from Wade’s cock down, to smear against the flushed shaft beneath. Your own fingers wrapping around, following Wade’s pace.

“‘s cute watching you try so hard. You should turn around, baby.” He coos - eyes flicking from your mouth to your eyes, “I know where we’d fit even better.”

Your rhythm stutters, as you catch up. You hadn’t been thinking about that. Content to take whatever they’d give you tonight, as many turns as they wanted to take.

But this - you must wear the consideration on your face, because Wade’s smile pulls wider.

“Think you could.” It’s murmured out, a soft challenge at the flicker of hesitation.

Another lick, before you're pulled back - head tilting, “I did, remember?”

“Last chapter,” He huffs, “I know, but-”

And his hips shift forward in a lazy grind, “Don’t you wanna know? Think we would really fill you up, gorgeous. Give you what you need.”

There’s a groan against your cunt, the body below you shifting.

It’s hard to concentrate, with the swipe of Logan’s tongue. The lazy lift of his hips, keeping the slow sweep of his cock against Wade’s.

And you consider them together, for a moment. The curling heat inside you twisting, the flames fanning higher.

“Don’t think I can.”

It’s regretful, but Wade only hums.

“You took my fist.”

Logan groans into your cunt, as the heat rises to your cheeks.

“I, we-, we’d been drinking! We worked up to it!”

A crowning achievement during an anniversary week spent in Miami - the smell of coconut rum still makes you nauseous, even if the memories carry a hazy, golden glow.

His shoulder lifts, “We got all night, gorgeous. It’s your call.”

There’s a heartbeat of a breath. Logan going still beneath you, but you can feel the shifting pressure of his fingers against your skin.

You can’t deny that Wade was right. That you’re curious. Always had been, eager to push yourself to the limit just to see if you could.

And the thought of fitting both their cocks inside you, sharing the same space as they ruin you - something else new to experience with them.

Your nod is sharp, the look you send him heated.

Wade’s voice pitches low.

“Logan, work our girl open.”

His hand is already moving. Tracing along your hip, a thumb teasing at your opening,

“How many?” Logan rasps, as he sinks to the knuckle. Feeling how you already squeeze around him, wet and warm.

“Four.”

You’re left panting. A tremble in your thighs when the second fits in, Logan’s first two fingers nudged deep inside you. The careful stretch as he works you open.

Coming hard when he reaches three - crying out as his fingers crook again and again. So easy to find that soft spot inside you when you’re so full, when you’re angled so his tongue can flick against your clit. Letting you ride out the orgasm against his hand, the last lined up to slip in.

Wade’s hand slowing, but never stopping. A running commentary at just how “good you’re gonna take them both”, how he’s always thought that “two dogs in a bun looked right to him”.

The pleasure still thrumming inside you when Logan eases his hand free, his fingers shining with you.

Ones that slip between his lips as Wade flips you around - the cold kiss and chirp of ‘baby knife!’ against your hip, the lace panties cut from you as he settles your hips against the cradle of his. Coating their cocks with lube, snatched from the bedside drawer.

You can feel them slide against your folds, slick and heavy. Wade’s hand at your hip, layering where Logan held you. The other still wrapped around both of them, eager to guide.

“Hi,” You smile, as Logan’s hand cups the back of your neck. Tugging you down to kiss him, as Wade tugs your hips back.

The sweet tang of your release lingers on his tongue. A soft greeting rumbled back with the shine of his teeth, the grin pulling wider as they start to sink into you.

Swallowing the gasp that rips from your chest, eyebrows pinched with concentration. His other hand mirroring Wade’s on your hip. A soft pressure, easing you back.

Nudging the tips of both of them inside you. The dull ache from the stretch sings through you, your breath held as your eyes go wide. Logan’s thumb sweeping against your neck as he watches you take them, eyes flicking down to the shadows between your thighs.

Gently coaxing you to move - inching them deeper each time, your knees digging into the mattress as the sensations threaten to overwhelm you.

“I know,” Logan soothes, his voice low, “You can take it, sweetheart. Feels fucking incredible, you know that?”

His fingers pinching against your skin, as he hold himself back. Resisting the urge to bury himself fully in you - letting you set the pace.

Wade’s voice joining him, the sound rough “Mm, gonna give Nabisco competition with the way we’re double stuffing you, gorgeous.”

Not having the same restraint, his hips moving. Shallow thrusts, a ragged groan at the way you grip him, the slick drag of his cock against Logan’s.

An inch deeper, and then another. Wade shifting until his hand plants on the mattress, closing the open space between you.

Angling himself down, a needy groan when it increases the pressure of his cock against Logan’s. The slick slide against each other as he traps you between them, as they find their rhythm.

Logan’s thrusts shallow, though no less desperate than the grind of Wade’s hips. Teeth against your shoulder, panting breath in your ear as a broad hand palms at your tits.

The fullness before was not like this.

An indescribable pressure, how you stretch wet and tight and snug around them. Each thrust rubbing against spots inside you that leave you seeing stars. Pressed flush against Logan, your spit-slick clit grinding against the coarse hairs at the base of his cock.

It flushes any coherent thoughts from your head. Your face buried in his neck, trying to lift your hips to meet them. Sinking them just a little bit deeper with each slick thrust, until you’ve taken as much as you can.

“How’s she look?” It’s growled out, as your test your teeth against the leather collar of his suit. Barely-there imprints left behind - the suit as forgiving as their skin - as your moans are muffled.

The weight lifts from you, a hand braces between your shoulder blades as Wade leans back.

Heat curling inside you, rising to your cheek as the way he whistles - the grin you can imagine with his tone.

“Fucking perfect.” Two sharp thrusts with each word, and you clench with both, “Both of us inside you.”

Fingers trace where they fill you, as he hums with approval.

“That’s the way it should be. Don’t you think, baby?”

Your answering moan pitches high. Fingers curled where they grip on, cock-drunk and hazy. Pleasure licking inside you, and he can see the way you’ve gone tense in anticipation. Can feel the way you clench, and it only makes his hips snap harder.

“Know you’re close.” It comes out low, “Gonna make you squirt all over his suit. Make him wear you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Logan groans, as he babbles.

It works. It always fucking works and he always knows it - a pleased tone sinking in to the filth that pours from him.

“Fuck her, Wade.”

It’s snarled out, though not with anger, “Give her what she wants or I will.”

Fingers pinch at your nipples. The bed creaking with the lift of his hips - his pace slowed with the way both of you keep him pressed deep, resigned to the lazy pace Wade’s taken.

“So fucking bossy when you’re horny.” Wade huffs - the retort turning into white noise, as your focus narrows down to where you’re joined.

Each thrust taking you closer, and when he speeds up - grasping onto you, making you take it - it’s too much.

A warning is half-murmured out with panting breath, before your orgasm is ripping through you. Molten heat radiating down your limbs, as their hands roam. Tits and hips and the curve of your ass.

Wade leaning back, a hand cracking down against soft skin. Your shuddering moan as you clench helplessly around them, their cocks coated with your release.

He’s following soon after, pulled over with the tight clench. With the rub of Logan’s cock against his - a ragged groan, as he half-slips from you as he comes.

Words forgotten, as Wade shoots ropes of his spend inside you. Inching back to drip against your folds, the velvet shaft that still spears in you.

Logan’s hips jerk, pressing himself deeper. A low grunt as he takes over. Panting breath each time he tugs you flush, burying himself in the slick mess Wade left behind.

Pounding into you like he’s wanted to all night - fucking his boyfriend’s release deeper into you as you bounce on his cock. Jaw set as the air huffs through clenched teeth.

Wade’s hands at your waist, forcing the rhythm that starts to waver. His voice low in your ear, the devil on your shoulder.

“Tell him how good you’ve going to take his come, baby.”

A hand drifting, dipping down to rub circles against your clit.

“Gonna let him fill you up, isn’t that right? Sweet little pussy can’t get enough.”

“Please, Logan-” You whine, as the grip on your hips becomes bruising.

They make you insatiable, the way they tease and touch. The way they want you, can’t get enough.

It’s there in the way Logan’s eyes are on yours - tugging you down and flush as his orgasm rips through him, his cock throbbing deep inside you. It sets off your own release, squirming against Wade’s tireless touch, the rocking lift of Logan’s hips as he empties himself inside you.

Pulsing around him, a heady throb that radiates out from deep within - your moan melding with the low growl as he feels you come with him.

The grind of your hips slowing, as the pleasure slowly ebbs.

“Counting that as a joint effort, you’re not getting a point with the way you just laid there, pookie,” Wade’s lips press against your cheek, as you sag back against him.

Logan’s cheek twitches, liquid lead beneath you, “Always a fucking competition.”

There’s an affronted gasp.

“How dare you,” It comes out grave - Wade’s eyes narrowing, “A fucking competition is what brought us together in the first place.”

His mock-anger quickly forgotten, with a languid sigh, “Old Saint Nick can fuck right off because this is definitely what I wanted for Christmas.”

A sentiment that leaves you humming in agreement, as your hands brace on Logan’s chest. As your eyes drop - tracing the curves of armor, down to where he still spears into you.

Where his own already linger, where the yellow leather parts - the fabric slick and glossy. Stained with you. With them, where they drip from you, where you’ve been filled to the brim, and then spilling over.

You can’t pretend this isn’t what you wanted, as well.

You’re stretched out between them - bare skin between red and yellow. Drowsy in your fucked out haze. Leaning into the press of Wade’s lips.

Mouth, chin, throat. Teeth nipping, as his fingers drift across your curves. Down, until they’re slipping inside you. Swirling through the mix, melding their release together.

Logan’s chest pressing into your shoulder, as a hand hooks under your thigh. Opening you up wider, the lewd thrust of Wade’s fingers growing louder.

An inhale of breath, a low laugh against your neck. The mask tugged free from Wade’s face, lost in the tangle of the sheets.

“Just listen to you, baby.” He purrs, as his thumb rubs against your clit. Unable to help clenching around him, feeling how they drip out of you, “So fucking jealous, can’t remember the last time I was this full.”

There’s a low grunt from the other side.

“You really that desperate to get fucked, Wilson?” He drawls, fingers flexing against the hinge of your knee, “Just say when and where.”

“When.” Wade chirps, “Where.”

Logan laughs. Loose-limbed, a slow smile stretching across his face - stretching, as he yawns.

“Next time.”

Wade gives an aside glance.

“I’ll hold you to that, big boy.”

thank you for reading and for your patience! 💕 I have two more parts planned for them, and would love to have them up soon!

[lovemepartly]

husband!in-ho ✩ headcanons

warnings: 18+, smut.

a/n: i am so obsessed with husband!in-ho. i need him bad. 

sfw ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• in-ho is extremely possessive and clingy, but much more as your husband. 

• every now and then, he’ll let you watch some games with him. he’ll sit down on his black leather couch and pull you onto his lap, one hand holding a glass of whiskey and the other hand softly placed on your hip. he doesn’t like it when you drink but will occasionally pour you a glass of whiskey, finding it endearing to see you get tipsy so easily. on those days, you get more messy, placing soft kisses to his jawline as he watches the game. “you’re distracting me.” he’ll murmur, but won’t stop you from kissing him. as soon as the game is over, he’ll turn off the tv and kiss you softly, cupping your face and pulling you closer to him. 

• in-ho doesn’t fall asleep easily and when he does, he’s awakened by any noise. when you start to get tired, he’ll close the book he was reading and shut off the light, pulling you into chest. he’ll stroke your hair and place soft kisses to the top of your head until you drift off to sleep. 

• in-ho spoils you a lot. he will buy you just about anything you ask for and even things you don’t ask for, but that’s just his way of showing love. plus, watching you get all dressed up in an outfit and jewellery he knows he bought for you makes him happy. 

• at first, in-ho didn’t like taking you to the island with him on the week of the games, afraid he would be putting you in danger. he’s much more willing to take you now, mainly because he can’t stand to be away from you. he also loves to see you after a long day of work, knowing he can slip into your arms and feel any tension go away. 

• if he goes off to the games to be a fake player, he’ll do his best to keep you from getting too worried. 

“i don’t think this is a good idea,” you’ll mumble to him. 

he’ll give you a soft smile before responding, “i’m going to be okay, i promise.” 

he’ll find ways to sneak off during the games to meet you somewhere, each time pulling you into a tight hug and placing a passionate kiss to your lips. he’ll reassure you that he’s okay and wipe away any of your tears.  

nsfw under cut ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• in-ho loves eye contact during sex. he’ll force you to look at him, admiring your pretty face and flushed cheeks. whenever you take him from behind, he’ll wrap a hand gently yet firmly around your neck, forcing you to look back at him. after a long day’s work when you get on your knees, his hand will reach down and lightly lift your chin up. “so beautiful.” he’ll murmur. 

• he loves cockwarming. often times he’ll do it just to see how needy you get, begging for him to let you move. he’ll sit on the black leather couch in the office, watching the first game, while you straddle him. his hands will grip your hips firmly and anytime you squirm, he’ll tighten his grip. “be a good girl and i’ll give you what you want after i’m done watching this, okay?”

• he loves to fuck you in his frontman attire. on those days, he won’t even remove the mask. even though you’re unable to see his face, he still expects you to maintain eye contact. his voice comes out deeper due to the distortion, as do the grunts and moans. meanwhile, his gloved hands will tangle into your hair, pulling slightly. 

• he prefers to receive his head, but on some nights his kisses will trail down your neck, eventually making their way further down your body. he’ll slip off your panties and strongly hold your thighs down, before giving you a smirk and getting to work. he’s messy yet meticulous with his movements and knows exactly all the right spots for you. when he eats you out, he likes to drag out the process, teasing you and getting you so close to climax only to take it all away. he mainly does this to hear you beg. as you get closer, your hips will buck up and his hands will tighten their grip on your thighs, pressing you back down into the mattress. “hold still,” he’ll murmur into you, the vibrations driving you crazy. 

[pixiexdusts-world]

Min Ho’s unexpected plus-one

Min Ho Moon x girlfriend!reader

Summary: Min Ho surprises his friends with a girlfriend, and they can’t believe she’s real.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

If my heart beats any faster, I might actually pass out.

I smooth down my sweater for the hundredth time as Min Ho leads me toward the table where his friends—Dae, Q, and Kitty—are sitting. They’re deep in conversation, laughing at something I can’t hear, but the moment Min Ho clears his throat, all three heads turn in our direction.

“Guys,” Min Ho says, his voice casual but confident. “This is my girlfriend.”

Three pairs of eyes widen simultaneously.

“Girlfriend?!” Kitty is the first to react, nearly choking on her drink. She looks between us with the kind of shock I imagine she’d reserve for a major K-drama plot twist. “Did I miss something? Since when do you date?”

Min Ho sighs dramatically, placing a protective arm around my waist. “You all act like I was destined to be alone forever.”

Dae, who has been quiet up until now, finally blinks out of his stunned state. “I mean… kinda?” He looks at me with an apologetic smile. “Not because there’s anything wrong with you! Just, you know, because Min Ho’s… Min Ho.”

I laugh, and Min Ho groans. “Wow. Amazing. So much faith in me.”

Q leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studies me. “Okay, but seriously. We need details. How did this happen?”

“Yeah, and how are you putting up with him?” Kitty chimes in, narrowing her eyes at Min Ho like she’s waiting for me to expose all his flaws.

Min Ho scoffs, pressing a hand to his chest. “You know, a normal reaction would be ‘Congratulations, Min Ho! We’re happy for you, Min Ho!’”

Dae shrugs. “We’re still processing.”

I decide to take pity on him. “Honestly, he just kind of grew on me.” I glance up at him with a teasing smile. “Like an expensive, annoyingly charming fungus.”

Kitty gasps in delight. “Oh, I love her.”

Q grins. “Yeah, she’s definitely keeping him humble.”

Dae finally smiles. “Okay, okay, I approve.” He looks at Min Ho. “But if you mess this up, you know we’re all taking her side, right?”

Min Ho sighs. “Obviously.”

I can’t help but laugh as Kitty gestures excitedly for me to sit next to her, already launching into a million questions. Min Ho might have been nervous about this introduction, but honestly? I think I just found my new favorite people.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

As the night goes on, I settle into the group’s dynamic faster than I expected. Kitty is relentless with her questions, grilling me on everything from my favorite K-drama to my most embarrassing childhood story. Q is effortlessly charming, throwing in sarcastic quips that make Min Ho roll his eyes every five minutes. Dae, despite being the most reserved, gives me reassuring smiles that make it clear he’s warming up to me.

Min Ho stays close the whole time, his arm slung casually across the back of my chair, his fingers occasionally brushing against my shoulder. It’s subtle, but I can tell he’s still a little nervous, like he needs to make sure I’m okay. It’s sweet, really.

At one point, Kitty leans over and whispers, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this.”

“Like what?” I whisper back.

She glances at Min Ho, who’s currently bickering with Q over something ridiculous, then back at me with a knowing smile. “Soft.”

I feel my face warm, but before I can respond, Min Ho turns back to us. “What are you two conspiring about?”

Kitty just winks. “Nothing. Just girl talk.”

Min Ho narrows his eyes at her suspiciously, but before he can press further, Dae checks his phone and sighs. “I should probably head out. My dad’s expecting me home soon.”

Q stretches. “Yeah, me too. But this was fun. You’re officially part of the group now,” he says, giving me an approving nod.

Kitty grins. “Yeah, and don’t worry, we’ll make sure Min Ho treats you right.”

Min Ho scoffs. “She doesn’t need you guys for that. I’m an amazing boyfriend.”

I hum thoughtfully. “Debatable.”

Kitty bursts into laughter. “Oh yeah, I definitely like her.”

As we all say our goodbyes, Min Ho laces his fingers through mine and pulls me a little closer. “See? Told you they’d love you.”

I smile up at him. “Yeah, I think I love them too.”

He smirks. “Not more than you love me, though. Right?”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no denying the warmth spreading through my chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Min Ho grins. “I knew it.”

And just like that, I realize—being with him, being part of this? It feels exactly right.

[mocchii-writes]

can you do a thanos x reader (with slight dae Ho x reader) where they used to date before he became a rapper and did drugs and she’s the only person he ever truly loved. They break up because of the person he becomes and cut contact, seeing each other for the first time at the games. Thanos is keeping up his cool guy persona and flirting in a dickhead way, but then he sees her getting along with dae Ho (who likes her too) that cause thanos to actually be vulnerable with the reader in private, acting like he once was. up to you if you want to make it an angsty or fluffy ending

Well, all the stars would shine a bloody red

Paring: Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x fem!reader, slight Kang Dae-ho x reader

Summary: Seeing Thanos in the games after he changed for the worse, but he sees you too.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Brief mentions of prayer, mentions of drugs, swearing, death, squid game stuff

A/n: grr I'm not good with angst, I'm sorry if this sucks lol. Also, it came out way longer than I expected, so sorry for that ♡

~🍡🍡

The world seems blurry around Thanos. The leaves on the ground are nothing more than a distraction from your face. His heart beats faster as you smile at him, telling him some story he can't remember. The park is nice, a cool breeze ruffling your hair slightly.

His hearing is the first to go, and your voice becomes incomprehensible murmurs as the world slowly darkens and shifts. He can't see you anymore, either, and his vision soon blackens like an exposed film. Soon, the darkness is replaced by blaring lights as he opens his eyes.

Oh.

He sits up, his loose shirt clinging to his damp cold sweat. Why had he dreamt about you? It was so long ago, but he knew he'd never recover. His mattress always feels empty, now. No matter what girl is in it, it's always empty. You were so perfect, how could he have lost you?

It doesn't matter anymore, and he knows it. His life is better now. He just needs to keep saying that until he can wake up and feel like an entire person. But for now, he's just a husk, and he knows it. He'd never admit it, though. He can hardly admit it to himself. He knows he's changed. He wishes he could say for the better, but fame does something to a person. He still remembers that day.

He was high all the time, at clubs or concerts, hardly home, and hardly himself. You had spoken to him a week or two ago, telling him you were worried.

"Please, Su-bong." You had whispered. It was the first time you had gotten to speak to him in a while. "Why are you doing this? Why are you changing so quickly? So harshly?" He thought you were going to cry. So did you. Your hand rests on his arm. But he, for some fucked up reason, brushed you off.

"Chill, man. I'm not changing, I'm living my life. Why can't you just let me? Be happy for me?" He shoves your hand away. "I have a signing soon, see you later," he dismissed you.

That night, though. He should've been able to tell you were different. Your demeanor was cold and dry. But he couldn't even recognize himself, so you expected nothing more. You were sitting on the couch, arms crossed, zoning out into the ceiling. He stumbled in, clearly high off his mind. He had hickeys. You don't care, at this point. You can't remember the last time he even hugged you, but you stopped trying a while ago.

"Hey, Baby," he muttered, taking off his jacket. He walked over and sat next to you, turning on the TV.

"Do you know what day it is?" You calmly asked. You were prepared for this. You already knew what he would say, he didn't even deserve the benefit of the doubt, but you still asked him anyway.

"Happy anniversary." He'd said, dismissively, switching the channel. You scoffed, focusing your eyes on him. You stood, and he looked at you, almost annoyed.

"You're not yourself." You say, biting your lip, trying not to break.

"What? Flower, I thought we were past this." He groaned. You didn't say anything. You just grabbed your phone and walked to the door.

"Talk to me when you can remember my birthday." You said, slamming the door. He didn't comprehend it at the time, passing out after a while.

But he does now.

He can't take it. He lost all his money, unable to blind himself anymore. He rarely dreams of you, but it hurts more each time he does. He was stupid. He is stupid. He's never felt for someone like you since then. He stands, defeated, and heads outside.

He's not proud of what he plans to do, but he is confused when a man in a suit approaches him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You have to squint your eyes to get used to the bright florescent lights in the strange room you find yourself in. You panic, but only briefly, before remembering the Ddakji, the small card, and the ominous car you entered.

You take a moment to assess your situation but don't get very far. There are many different kinds of people around you, seemingly in the same situation. You wear identical tracksuits with different numbers and are surrounded by strategically stacked metal bed frames. You then notice the violin music playing from seemingly nowhere and everywhere, and you finally stand up.

Many people join you as the crowd looks confused. Until a buzzing sound is heard, cutting off the peaceful music, as large doors at the front of the room open, and people in bright pink uniforms walk out. One starts talking about games, money, and lots of things that would normally interest you (or any other sane person), but your attention has drifted elsewhere, your world stopping in its tracks.

It's not like he's difficult to notice. His hair is still that stupid purple, and he still seems to carry himself with a sense of arrogance, but you almost wish you hadn't seen him, as memories come flooding in of the life you still sometimes mourn.

You barely begin to think of him in a positive light before your thoughts are interrupted by his voice, proving your hopes wrong. "What's with these shoes?" You roll your eyes as you watch the back of his head. "My shoes are limited fucking edition, they're hard to find." He whines. "You going to replace them if they get ruined?" Nice to know his priorities haven't changed. Your dread doesn't fade when other people begin asking questions. You almost get on your knees and pray, right there, that he doesn't see you. Instead, you decide to focus on more important matters and listen to the guards' answers.

One particularly whiny guy pushes a little too hard, and his name and number are soon ominously announced by the guard speaking, followed by his debt, age, and history. You refrain from smiling as a video is played on a large screen of him playing Ddakji and presumably losing. More videos are played, thankfully none of you, but there is one of Thanos, sadly without him getting slapped. The pink guard then continues speaking, offering a chance at a better life, or so he says. It's not like you have very many options, though.

The lights turn off as you watch a clear piggy bank lower, grabbing your interest. Even more when a prize of 45.6 billion won is announced. It's not like you have many options. So, when lines are formed, you sign the paper.

Eyes naturally trailing to Thanos, you notice him fussing with the whiner from earlier. You can't hear what they're saying, but you resist the urge to scoff at his immature behavior. He's nothing if not consistent, at least. It is kind of funny, though, watching him be pulled off of the guy.

You get your picture taken, ignoring a flight of fans to Thanos and an embarrassing moment to witness, and are led to an open, sandy area. You see an ominous-looking doll, but your thoughts are interrupted. "The first game is Red Light, Green Light."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

shit shit shit

What is this psychotic prison? You thought that 456 guy was crazy, high, or something other than honest! You know you don't have much time left. You glance up at the clock as it ticks down.

00:52

Well, fuck. You're going to end up like those people at the start of the game. Just another failure with no money or life dragged away before anyone could remember your name.

You can't distract yourself with that now, though. There are only a few people left (considering there are like 400 in total), and your position at this moment isn't the best. To make things worse, as soon as you hear that devilish singing, you're pushed. Hard.

Your body crashes to the ground, and you feel your leg bruising immediately. You struggle to stand up. You know you can't run anymore. The doll spins its head back around as your mind races.

00:28

You're going to die. You know you are. You can't make it that far whilst limping. You glance around, praying for something to happen in your favor when you make eye contact with someone at the end, already finished.

He looks kind, at least kinder than most people here. He sees you, he sees your situation, and he nods at you. You're unsure what that means until he runs to help you when the music plays again. When he reaches you, he freezes once he has an arm under you.

00:20

The doll looks away, and he pulls you up with ease. You wince, but you know you have bigger issues. He smiles apologetically as you both move as fast as your body lets you until the singing stops again.

00:14

You feel bad for this boy. He's just trying to help you, but you've now taken down another sweet person with you. He senses your tiresome energy and covers his mouth before the doll moves to look around.

"Don't give up. We're so close." He says, staring daggers into your eyes. You squeeze them shut and bite your lip. "You can do this," He whispers. The singing begins again.

00:07

You sigh and push yourself up again, both of you continue moving as you feel people's eyes on you.

00:02

He pushes you forward as you fall over the line, him soon after as the clock stops.

00:00

You instinctively cover your eyes as you hear the shots that echo through the room, as the remaining players lose their lives to this wretched game.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boy walks with you back to the sleeping quarters. You're both shaken, but you manage to speak. "Thank you," you whisper, but you know he hears you. "I thought I wasn't going to make it."

He looks at you and nods. "Of course." He says softly, "I'm Dae-ho." You smile at him and introduce yourself. You both make your way to a corner and sit on his bed as the guards enter the room again.

Some people cry, some people start begging, and you kick your legs and watch it play out, frightened, but curious. Eventually, the familiar piggy bank dramatically stoops down again, this time filling with money, climactic music playing. The mood is soon killed, though. 24 million is the share each player would get, and you squint at the guard. Your mood isn't much better when you hear another voice.

"24 million?" Thanos asks, "You said 45.6 billion!" he says, an accusatory tone in his voice as the guard re-explains the situation. You aren't listening very closely anymore, though. Your heart and mind ache with thoughts of your past. You miss his kindness, the gentle Su-bong, who always closely cared for you. Now, all that's left is a harsh concrete wall between you two and the sting on your shins from the fall you took.

Before you know it, it's time to cast votes on whether to stay or leave this fever dream of a place. Your number is pretty low, so you get to see a lot of people's votes. Unsurprising to you, Thanos wants to stay. After a scene is caused by 456, you cast your vote and return to Dae-ho. He starts talking, breaking the silence between you.

Neither of you are quite sure what there is to say, but he talks anyway. He talks about his sisters, how they raised him, and his father, who never really knew him. He talks about his time in the military and what his life was like. You listen, nodding, laughing when he says something funny, and understanding. You both get food. It's not the best, but it's food, nonetheless. You begin to tell him about your life, but you're soon both distracted by 456, sharing his knowledge on the next game. Curious when you find out it's Dalgona, Dae-ho confirms your suspicions and verifies what the game is. Once the crowd dies down, he energetically offers you and himself to join the group, and they don't decline.

You're soon distracted, though. That empty aching feeling returns as you watch Thanos and his friend harass someone again. The same guy from earlier, 333. No matter how much you think you miss him, it's always drowned out by a hatred for who he is. You're soon brought to reality again as the sound of Thanos hitting the ground drives your attention back to the situation. The boy is soon held back and punched. Your stomach tightens as you watch the boy you once knew to be funny and kind, be so aggressive and violent. You know he'll never change, so you simply turn to focus on something less depressing, only to find Dae-ho slipping his egg onto your plate. You smile at him, distracting yourself successfully until even he looks over, noticing a man from your group kicking Thanos's ass.

You have to refrain from laughing, but Dae-ho doesn't try to hide the grin on his face. You could hardly admit to yourself that it slightly ached your soul to see your sweet boy be hurt like that, but the thought diminished quickly, replaced with an anxious realization that you're not just looking at Thanos, but his eyes.

He sees you.

Oh, fuck.

This was probably worse than watching that stupid timer tick away. His eyebrows soften from angry to shocked to bittersweet. He doesn't smile at you, but you can almost see his apology in his eyes if it weren't for his dilated pupils. His eyes look next to you, but your attention is soon changed as you hear Dae-ho. "Are you alright?" He asks, looking at you. It's only now you realize you're shaking, and you suddenly feel it all settling in. Your situation. The people, the place, the danger, it's a little too much. You bite your lip and nod, heading to the bathroom to clear your head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You honestly should've expected it, but you didn't. You're standing over the sink, washing blood off of your face when the door opens. You look and immediately look away. How did he even get in here? You let out a shaky sigh as you grip the sink, distracting yourself yet again.

"Hey," Thanos says, his tone a little lighter than what you've heard so far.

"I can't believe they even let you in here." You scoff, trying, and failing, to hide the crack in your voice as you look at your reflection. You're a mess. Your hair is damp with sweat, water, and probably blood. Your face is tired, your lip is quivering. You honestly look worse than him, and he just got the shit beaten out of him. "What do you want from me?" You say, not looking at him. You honestly don't expect him to be gentle with you, he never was before you broke up, but you're proven wrong.

"I don't want to upset you, Baby." He whispers, walking closer slowly.

"Don't call me that." You say, closing your eyes. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be an asshole like he always was. Then you could tell him off and leave him in the dust again, but now you have no plan. He's not being Thanos, he's being Su-bong. You haven't heard from Su-bong in a painfully long time.

He's still coming closer. You don't move, though. You're not sure what you want him to do, but you don't think he knows either. He leans down a little bit to look at you from the side, and you open your eyes and look at him, finally. He's so pretty. You feel your eyes getting glassy as you look at him, the pain of your burnt love story refreshing in your mind. His eyes aren't as dilated, but still a bit. You hope it's just because he's looking at you, but you aren't going to think about it.

He seems to notice your glossy eyes and furrows his brows, tilting his head slightly and looking at you sympathetically. It felt unwelcome but familiar. He lifts a hand slightly, appearing to try to touch you, but doesn't move it from its place in the space between you. You don't pull your eyes from his until the stinging is too much, and you close your eyes. You tilt your head downwards to hide the trickle against your cheek.

You feel his hand hold your face gently as he sighs lightly. "I'm so sorry," is all he whispers. You want to lean into his touch and accept his offer of love and forgiveness, but you're scared. He knows you are. But you don't move. You don't want him to stay, but you don't want him to leave.

"I know." You say, defeated. You bring your arms away from the sink to play with your hands, your body naturally turning to him. "You always said you were." You whisper, sniffing. You see his eyes close and he looks frustrated with himself, but you feel his other hand on yours, gently rubbing his thumb over your hands.

"I was so stupid, angel. I couldn't see what I was igniting until our love was already burnt." He says, never taking his eyes off you. You laugh lightly, and he smiles, confused. "What?"

"Kinda sappy, but I'd expect nothing less from you." You tease, as he scoffs. You sniff once more before dragging your eyes to meet his. You're met with nothing but care in his eyes. You look at him and are reminded of your perfect boy, who always made you smile.

"Please forgive me." He whispers. "I still dream about you. I've never loved someone like I love you." He admits, so quiet he was scared you might not hear, but you did. Your heart beats a little faster as you move closer, leaning your forehead to his. he closes his eyes, and you copy. You had certainly missed this.

"It will be difficult," you say, he nods, "Don't hurt me again, please." He bites his lip, and both his hands find your jaw, moving back to look at you.

You inch closer to each other, painfully slow. Your breath is shallow, you can feel your brain screaming to stop. He's so soft, though. Nothing is stopping you. You can feel his breath fanning onto your nose as his thumb glides over your cheek. Your hands have the urge to hold him, to let him love you and cherish you. You want to lay your face on his neck and fall asleep in his arms.

You want to question yourself, too. You want to stop, run away, and ignore every call. That is until your hands find his shirt, and you realize you can't stop if you try. This is what you need. This is why you want to cry. This is what you're aching for, and the heart wants what it wants.

So, you lean forward, accepting the wave of warmth that washes over you when he softly kisses you. You get chills up your body, one of your hands moving to his neck, then to his hair, slowly pressing a little harder, feeling him loosen in your grasp. You want to keep it this way forever, to stay in his presence and be showered with gentle love and appreciation until you're suffocated. But still, you lean back. You can't deny you're glad to see his smile when you open your eyes, and he can't say he's upset to see yours shining back.

[bruhstories]

Bet IV

p.1 here & p2. here & p.3 here & p.5 here & p.6 here

mandatory mdni because things will start to get heated up in the following chapters.

summary: you're starting to feel things for the man who hired you to take care of his cat. but he's only being nice. that's it and nothing more. pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, domestic violence (reader gets slapped by her uncle), veeeery slow burn, reader's dad is dead w/c: 2.1k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! please remember that if you asked to be tagged but i can't find your age on your blog, you will NOT be tagged. there will be smut and people dying lol.

"Where were you last night?"

You sighed at your uncle's question, sick and tired of explaining the same thing over and over again. He woke up earlier than he should have, especially for a man who worked night shifts at a warehouse. He did it on purpose, just to have more reasons to pick on you, and you knew that all too well. You lived through that hell for the past ten years.

"I told you, I was cat sitting." 

"Cat sitting." He repeated with derision in his voice. "You need to get a real job."

"I have two real jobs." You reminded him, and it took all your willpower not to raise your voice at him.

"Where's the money, then? Huh?" Your uncle grabbed you by the wrist, twisting it backwards.

"I'm getting paid today!"

"How much?" 

"660,326!" You cried out as his fingernails dug deeper into your skin.

"I better see that money on my nightstand by tomorrow morning." He let go of your wrist. "Keep the change."

How generous, you thought, rubbing the crescent-shaped dents in your skin. At least he didn't hit you, but your small victory crumbled when he turned on his heels, smacking you with the plastic fly swatter in his hand. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

You didn't cry, not in front of him. Never in front of him. 

But when you stepped through the doors of Mr. Hwang's penthouse, the dam broke, and tears streamed down your cheeks. They burned when they touched the cracked, swollen skin, courtesy of your uncle, but you still smiled at the sight of Eunjoo.

Instead of waiting next to the water bowl, like she had done before, the cat jumped on the countertop, her paw gently touching your wrist, where the imprinted dents of his fingernails were still visible. You didn't know why, but Eunjoo's gesture made you cry harder, heavy tears falling onto her plate. 

"Good kitty." You sobbed, daring to pet her, and she allowed it, nuzzling your hand for the first time since you met her.

Without wasting a single moment, you took out your phone to take a selfie of you and Eunjoo, and sent it to In-ho, with the caption 'Making progress!' You thought he might be happy to see her slowly lower her guard and get attached to you.

Who hurt you?

Stupid. How could you be so stupid to send a selfie when your cheek was grazed and puffy? Of course Mr. Hwang would ask about it, he was a nice man, one whose kindness you didn’t think you deserved.

I accidentally walked into a lamppost! Silly, right?

Hoping that the lie would be convincing enough, you carried on with your tasks after eating with Eunjoo, and to your surprise, it worked. It fooled him, but you weren’t proud of yourself in the slightest. 

You need to be more careful next time. If anything happened to you, who would take care of Eunjoo until I return?

It shouldn't have hurt reading his reply, and yet your heart ached. What did you expect? You were an employee, he obviously wanted his cat to be safe, not you. And how could someone like him even care about someone you? You came from different worlds that could never intertwine.

I will.

No thank you, no sad face — you were bitter, even though, rationally, you had no reason to be. Besides, you lied to him in the first place. Maybe if you told him the truth, he would have sent a different reply. It didn't matter. In less than five days he would come back, pay you and never speak to you again. Just like all rich people did.

You cleaned the bathrooms that morning, scrubbing the bath tubs, the toilets, the sinks and the floors until your fingertips stung and your head pounded from the bleach fumes. The vibration of your phone startled you, and you wiped your hands to check the notification.

Have I upset you?

Okay, maybe he did care. Or maybe he was just very observant and noticed your monotonous reply.

Not at all, I just have a lot on my mind. I'm sorry that you worried about me, or that I seemed upset! You're right, I need to be more careful next time.

Please don't take this the wrong way, miss, but I've never met anyone who apologised for making me worry about them. You're quite special.

You did a double take when you read Mr. Hwang's reply, and a wave of remorse crushed your heart. The man was too nice for you to lie to him, but you didn't want him involved in your family affairs, either. There was a strong internal conflict within you, a battle between honesty and dishonesty, but for the time being, dishonesty won, no matter how disgraceful it was.

Choosing not to reply, as time was ticking and the Abduls would be waiting for you soon, you swiftly finished tidying up the bathrooms and put away all the cleaning products so Eunjoo couldn't get to them. With the automatic feeder full, fresh water in the bowl and litter boxes clean, you left.

In all fairness, you didn't know what to reply to his text. No one called you special before, except for that one guy you dated who only wanted to sleep with you, and unfortunately succeeded. It wasn't your proudest moment, but you moved on since then. You stared at the text, typing a reply, then deleting it, then typing again, and you did that for the duration of the entire bus ride back to Guryong Village. By the time you knocked on Ali's door, you still hadn't come up with a response.

What could you even say? Thank you? Likewise? I'm sorry I lied to you, my uncle slapped me with the fly swatter? No. In telling the truth, Mr. Hwang would pity you, perhaps even offer you more money, or food, or clothes, and you didn't want to be pitied. You wanted your hard work to be recognised, not to use your social status or depressing background as an excuse.

Mrs. Abdul couldn't feed you that day, and that was fine. They needed to prioritise themselves, since they didn't live any better than you. Luckily, you saved enough money to buy a kimbap roll for lunch and a bag of rice crackers for dinner and breakfast. Resourcefulness was, perhaps, your strongest point and the reason you survived for so long.

The theme park was packed with tourists and locals, gathering to watch the parade, and you took the time to entertain children and take pictures with them, always on your feet, always working. Back in the dressing room, you took the comically large mascot head off, sweat dripping down your face and neck. Summers were worse — there were body parts you didn't think could sweat.

"Excuse me, Y/N?"

You looked up from your seat to a man around your age, a coworker named Donghyun. He had worked there for a few months or so, but you barely spoke.

"Yes?" You smiled, resting your elbows on the mascot head in your lap.

"We're getting paid today, and a few of us are going for drinks after work. I was wondering if you would like to come." Donghyun avoided looking into your eyes, nervously pinching the soft fur of his own mascot.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have another job I need to get to. Maybe another time."

"Yeah, another time." He nodded. "Hey, could I get your number?"

"Why would you want my number?" You laughed, immediately pursing your lips when Donghyun frowned. "Sorry, yeah, of course I'll give you my number!"

You were such a people pleaser, it was ridiculous, but he seemed to feel better after saving your number in his phone. And there was no harm in making new friends.

"I'll text you later." Donghyun nodded with a smile and left.

What a strange interaction, you thought. It wasn't unusual for men to like you — you were pretty, smart, funny — but you just weren't interested in any of them. In fact, it was their age and maturity that didn't appeal to you. They acted like prepubescent pricks, trying to impress anything with a vagina and a pretty face by being obnoxious and loud and downright irritating.

Older men were different. They had manners, they were respectful and caring. They knew how to dress, knew how to speak to women, kind of like Mr. Hwang.

Oh. 

God, you needed to forcibly remove that thought from your mind before it spiraled into something worse. In-ho probably wanted nothing to do with you — no, he definitely didn’t want anything to do with you. He was just a nice gentleman who happened to not be married. Maybe he had a girlfriend that didn't live with him. Or maybe he worked so much he couldn't afford a relationship. 

Maybe he murdered people.

You laughed at that ridiculous idea — no one in their right mind would do that, especially not Mr. Hwang. He had a cat, for God's sake. Murderers usually killed animals, surely he was just a normal man with a lot on his mind, a workaholic, or a hermit.

Walking into your boss' office, you received your pay and counted the money — 662,326. You got more than you should've, completely forgetting about the pay rise. Your uncle didn't need to know about that, and you took the extra 2,326 and hid it in a small pocket inside your backpack, along with other money you saved. Unbeknownst to him, you secretly opened a savings account in the hopes that one day you would be able to leave and rent your own place, but you only had 1,094,463.60 won, which was barely enough to cover the deposit.

One day. One day you would leave all that abuse behind and have a fresh start. But today was not that day. 

Back in Gangnam-gu, you entered the penthouse earlier than normal and dropped your bag on the floor next to your worn and torn boots. You were hoping they would last through winter because you really couldn't afford a new pair. Eunjoo ran to greet you for the first time, and your heart was filled with joy at the sight of the cat rubbing against your leg. She was growing on you, and you soon realised how much you'd miss her when Mr. Hwang returned. Perhaps he'd let you visit her. 

You turned the TV on and played some songs by ABBA, the sadness of the morning gone, replaced only by joy and optimism. Things would turn out well, you just knew it. You grabbed In-ho's black clothes and placed them in the washing machine, all the while dancing to the beat of Money, Money, Money. It was a song you related to, but you didn't want to find a wealthy man. You just wanted to have enough money to survive without your uncle.

"It's a rich man's world." You sang to Eunjoo, who wiggled her butt, playfully attacking your feet. 

"All the things I could do if I had a little money, kitty. I would get my own apartment, I would donate to orphanages and charities. Oh, don't look at me like that." You frowned when Eunjoo stared at you judgmentally. "I would! There are people out there who need help. But you know what I would get for me? A hotteok! Ah, I would kill for that cinnamony goodness."

You placed the food on the floor and opened the pack of rice crackers. 

"My dad got me a hotteok on my seventh birthday. It was the best birthday ever and- oh my God, I'm talking to a cat." Laughing at the sudden realisation, you shook your head in disbelief. "Well, you're probably my only friend anyway. You don't judge me. You don't care if I'm rich or poor. You just listen and eat. Oh!"

Good evening, Mr. Hwang! Could I ask what your favourite dish is?

You decided that would be your gift. Cooking wasn't your strongest skill, but you were confident in yourself. And who didn't want to come back to a hot home-made meal? Maybe he liked jajangmyeon, or jjigae, or something sweet, like chapssaltteok. The possibilities were endless.

Beef Wellington. Why?

Your heart sunk to your stomach. Beef fucking Wellington? How on Earth could you even afford all the ingredients? The tenderloin itself was probably over 65,000 won. But you were going to do it for him, regardless of what it cost. You felt that Mr. Hwang deserved it. 

I was hoping to cook it for you when you returned. I'll admit, I didn't think it would be such a... fancy dish, but I'm sure I can manage. 

Have you tried it before?

I'm afraid not. Is it good?

Exquisite. You'll have to stay and try it when I return, yes?

Chewing on your bottom lip, your heart skipped a beat at his request. You knew he was just being nice, but you couldn't stop the sudden burning desire to just obey. 

Yeah, I'll stay. 

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn  @hobiesbrownsgf  @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol  @mariiestfu  @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm @nikos-a-clown @cchewhaz @pepsicolacoochie @lily-ann-b @red22wolf @nellabear @unabletonotlovesatoru @happiness2112 @waterjewelsspite @luna-looniesnlog @plan3t-plut0 @full-sunnies @houta-habtet-houta @alexisabirdie @riri53 @bluehourss

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: their reaction to the fact that you have a little daughter🩵

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f), Kang Sae Byeok x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Gang No Eul x Reader(f)

Summary: you were in a relationship with a guy, but as soon as he found out that you were pregnant, he left you. Now you are raising a five-year-old girl, but you meet your other love and are afraid to confess everything.

A/N: I'll hope I managed to write everything well!

🩵🩵🩵

Cho Hyun Ju

You've been dating a girl for five months. And these months you didn't tell that you have a five-year-old daughter. You were afraid that she would leave you, because many people did so.

You are not stopped even by the fact that Hyun Ju told you her most important secret, that she is a trans girl. You were still afraid.

But it's time to confess, because the girl wants to live together and create a full-fledged family.

On another date that took place in a cafe, without saying anything to your girlfriend, you took your daughter with you, telling her in advance that you wanted to introduce her to your love. The girl was very happy and was really looking forward to this meeting.

When you came, Hyun Ju was very surprised and didn't understand anything at first, but after listening to the whole story, she only smiled softly.

- So now I have not only a wonderful future wife, but also a sweet daughter.

You realized that your girlfriend will be a great mother for your daughter.

Thanos (Su Bong)

You've been dating a guy for half a year and during this time you didn't tell him that you have a daughter. Not because didn't want to, but because of what Su Bong said right away, he hated children. But you loved him very much and hoped that he would accept the girl and even want to have his own children.

But it didn't happen, the guy was still against the children, but you hoped.

And everything was in vain.

He sent you a photo of you sitting in the park with your daughter. It turns out that he accidentally saw you and took a picture to figure it out. You had no choice but to tell that the child was hidden from him for six months. Su Bong was furious. He didn't want to listen to anything and figure it out, he just wrote one last message:

"I wasted my time on you, if you think I'll accept you and your little crap, then you're a complete fool! I said from the very beginning that I hate children, and now I hate you too!"

After that, he blocked you and you saw his true face that the guy left you by correspondence and insulted you and your daughter. You sobbed all night and your daughter didn't leave you.

Kang Sae Byeok

You and the girl dated for only a month, but you loved her very much and wanted to connect her with her all your life.

But despite this, you were afraid to admit to her that you have a little daughter, of course Sae Byeok knew that your ex-boyfriend left you, so now you are afraid that you will be abandoned again.

But you had to tell as soon as possible, especially since you and Sae Byeok planned to start living together soon.

That's why you came up with a plan. You invited your girlfriend to your house.

Sae Byeok came, but not alone. There was a boy of about ten next to her, he looked a lot like a girl. You were very surprised, as were your girlfriend, because you met her with a little girl.

After you talked about everything, you just laughed.

- So now we will have a big family. And my brother and your daughter will become very close. - the girl said with a soft smile, while you watched how the children had already made friends with each other.

Kang Dae Ho

You and the guy have known each other for about two months and are already planning a wedding, because you want a big and strong family.

You knew that the guy loves children very much and wants at least three, so you were not afraid to admit to him that you have a little daughter.

You decided to invite him to the amusement park, especially so that the girl would have a good time.

You were not mistaken with the choice. Dae Ho immediately accepted your girl and on the first day was already very attached to her. You had the most fun day in your life, you walked, rode rides, went to cafes. Your boyfriend even bought a huge bear for your daughter, she was insanely happy.

- I can't wait to meet my daughter again. - he said when he was seeing you off after work.

- Stop..what? Did you call her your daughter? - you were stunned by his words, because it's only been a month since you introduced Dae Ho to your daughter.

- You know, I got so attached to her that she became like my own daughter to me.

You were happy to meet such a good guy.

Gang No Eul

You've been dating a girl for almost half a year. During all this time, you didn't tell her that you had a daughter, carefully hiding her.

You really wanted to introduce her, but you were afraid that No Eul would not accept the girl, besides, she had an injury, because she lost her daughter and keeps looking for her.

But we all know that the secret becomes obvious.

When you went on a date with her again, she accidentally saw a notification from your daughter on your phone. You had no choice but to tell everything and tell why you were afraid to confess before.

No Eul listened to you attentively, there was no condemnation in her eyes, on the contrary, she looked at you with sympathy.

- I'm sorry that you were afraid to confess because of me and my problems. I really want to get acquainted with your point.

🩵🩵🩵

[harryhighkey]

jealousy

here is a part two to 183!

this is a Frontman/Player 001/In-ho/Young-il x Reader lmao why does he have so many names

also kind of a bonus Dae-ho x Reader. Frontman owns my heart but I also have a soft spot for Dae-ho so was nice to write for him a little bit in here too! hope u like!

a frontman x reader series - masterlist to series here

"I think my sisters would really like you." Kang Dae-ho told you with a smile on his face.

"Really?" You responded, smiling back at him - you were happy to hear something so nice after yet again losing the vote to go home.

Up until just before the vote you'd only known him as Player 388 but he was the one who had suggested everyone learn each others names. You were happy to learn his name, you'd started to really enjoy being around him, you found him to be a breath of fresh air in this hell zone.

Yourself and Dae-ho had been having brief moments of making each other laugh. Every now and again the two of you would do impressions of the guards and their robotic way of walking and talking. The first time you both found it so funny, it became a personal joke that you two had continued to do.

It was silly and although no one else really found it as funny as the two of you, most of the other players around still enjoyed seeing you both with wide smiles and loud laughs. Some of them would even smile at those moments you shared. It was a welcomed contrast to the very dark aura that existed in this place.

Not everyone welcomed it, though.

Player 001 watched your smile reach your eyes and his jaw hardened. He was filled with jealousy and he was finding it hard to mask his rage.

In-ho - or Young-ill as you knew him because that was what he had told everyone his name was - was drawn to you in ways he couldn't admit. He was already having an internal battle over how much younger you were than him, but the part of him that was fighting to have you as his own was definitely winning.

From the moment he saw you, he thought you were too good to be here, too young to be here, too innocent to be here. It was why last night he sat on the side of your bed and stroked your hair until you were sound asleep. Even once you were asleep, he continued to sit by you, memorising your peaceful features, he wanted to provide you with that kind of peace all the time, that's what someone as pure as you deserved. Not the terror he had seen displayed in you due to being here.

Here. His games.

He felt so guilty you were here, he felt to blame for the trauma that was being inflicted upon you from being here. A player had never had this kind of affect over him. Although you put on a brave face, he still saw the way you reacted every single time a gun went off and someone dropped dead. No one flinched as hard as you did, he would see your eyes squeeze shut and your hands move to cover your ears. This place was not meant for you, and he wanted to keep you safe. He wanted to be the one making you feel happier, making you laugh, making you feel good, making you his.

Dae-ho seemed to be one of the better ones in this group of players, but In-ho felt like he wanted to knock him out with a single punch right now. The sound of plastic being crinkled sounded out loudly as he quickly clenched his fist around the packaging the bread had come in, his knuckles becoming very prominent.

You quickly turned to look at him, your eyes lingering on his hand before looking up to his eyes. He was already looking back at you, of course he was, he was always looking at you. The immediate eye-contact caught you off guard, your eyebrows furrowed, you opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong when Dae-ho - completely oblivious to Player 001's anger - spoke before you could.

"Yes! When we get out of here, you'll have to come meet them."

"I would love that!" You responded, your voice genuine, full of hope and excitement. Dae-ho had your attention again and In-ho got up from his position and walked away.

---

"Faster, Dae-ho!" You yelled out from your spot on Player 388's back.

After Player 001 walked away, you were questioning Dae-ho on what growing up with so many sisters was like. One of the facts he told you was that he could run faster than anyone else while giving a piggy-back ride from doing it so much for his sisters when they were younger.

He was challenged to prove it from Player 390, so he asked if you wanted a piggy-back so he could demonstrate, to which you happily agreed.

In-ho watched with venom in his gaze, your legs were wrapped him, your arms were around his neck, his hands were gripping your thighs, your front was pressing against his back. And then there was your beautiful, angelic laugh again, being caused by him. His will power was being challenged because all he wanted to do was march down to where Dae-ho was running around with you on his back and rip you off of him and into his own arms where he believed you belonged instead.

"Hey, that was the fastest yet! Think you can go faster?" Park Jung-bae spoke, he had been counting to time the fun activity.

"Maybe! But this one will be bumpy, (Y/N), I don't want you to fall so let's get you secure." Dae-ho tightened his grip around your legs and just as you were adjusting yourself on Dae-ho to be more locked in place, that commanding voice interrupted.

"I think that's enough." Player 001 walked closer to the two of you. The same look of rage he'd had before present on his face. You and Dae-ho froze in place and both turned to look at him. Your face screwed up in annoyance. Most people listened to In-ho, but as he had come to learn about you in a short time, you were not most people.

"Relax, old man. We're just having fun." You snickered after your comment, a playful smile on your lips, you were not going to obey him the way others had. "Dae-ho, let's go-"

"You're being disrespectful." In-ho cut you short. You met his glare with one of your own.

"How?"

"People died today, people will die tomorrow and you two are running around laughing. Playing silly games in here like idiots while others have lost their lives to the games we play out there."

That got you instantly, your mood doing a complete flip flop.

You didn't have any remark back to that. Your face crumpled into sadness and In-ho noticed. Part of his heart ached knowing he caused that, but the twisted part of him was glad he got his own way in separating you two. You loosened your arms from Dae-ho's neck and he leant back so you would safely land on the ground.

You felt guilty, Player 001 was right. You were being selfish, having fun and playing around while others had died. It could have been you that died. Suddenly you felt the weight of all the deaths that had taken place here.

Dae-ho felt guilty too, it created an uncomfortable shift between you two so suddenly. You felt so bad, you didn't know what to say and you felt the oncoming of tears so you just made quick steps to hideaway in your bunk for the rest of the night.

---

It was late and the room was dark when you heard footsteps coming towards your bed.

"Are you awake?" Just like he had last night, Player 001 was paying you another visit.

You were laying on your side, facing away from him. "No."

"Ah, the advanced sleep talking is happening again." He attempted to make a joke referencing what you had said to him last night, hoping it would get you to talk to him.

It didn't.

"(Y/N?)" He called your name and you let your hurt ignore the way you liked how it sounded. How it felt so right leaving his mouth.

He quietly sighed as he was once again met with silence. At this point, he would've taken one of your feisty remarks, that would have been better than this. He was realising the depth of hurt he'd put on you earlier, he should've known the toll it would have taken on you. You were too good, too pure, of course you'd hear those words and instantly accept the guilt. He'd did it all because you were simply having fun, it was unfair of him to do that. He should have been happy you were happy, he should have enjoyed hearing you laugh, he should want you to find comfort in someone closer to your age. But he didn't. He was a selfish man who was used to getting what he wanted. So instead, he had been greedy over you.

"Please, can we talk?"

"I don't want to talk, Young-il." Finally, you responded. It wasn't the response he wanted but he was relieved to have any response from you. Although, he had heard the sadness in your voice, the words came out a little shaky and you sniffled, too.

"I want to apologise to you."

"You don't have to, you were right. It was wrong. I don't deserve to be laughing like that, I've voted to leave every time and am just lucky to still be alive. I was being selfish, those poor people died and I-" A sob cut off what you were saying and you brought your hand up to cover your own mouth, your body curving in on yourself. You'd been crying on and off since returning to your bunk.

At this, In-ho succumbed to his greed when it came to you and climbed into your bed. You were hurting and it was his fault. He wrapped an arm over you and pulled you into him.

He didn't know if you would reject his touch at first, but he felt no resistance and instead, it seemed you relaxed against him. "Shh, (Y/N), it's okay." He whispered right into your ear.

"But you said-"

"I know, I'm sorry." He gritted his teeth, he was a manipulative man, he knew how to get people to do what he wanted. He wanted to seperate you and Dae-ho and he carefully chose the words he suspected would affect the both of you the most and give him what he wanted. Which it did. It was just in most other cases, he didn't feel guilty afterwards, but having you cry in his arms was destroying his hardness. It was making him want to be gentle, to be soft for your comfort. "None of this is your fault. Do not feel like it is."

Your breathing was still uneven and so he tightened his arm around you, pulling you in closer again until there was no space at all left between you both, your back now flush against his chest. He placed his open palm in the middle of your chest, the wide span of his hand placing some pressure on it. "You need to take some deep breaths, okay?" He told you, and you listened, the first few getting caught in your throat but eventually they begun to even out. "Good job. Good girl."

You liked how it all felt, him calling you a good girl, his broad chest warm and strong against your back, being in his arms, his breath blowing against the back of your neck, his hand against your chest acting like some sort of tiny weighted blanket to calm you.

Your heartbeat intensified, your cheeks warmed with a blush.

He could feel your heart beneath his hand, it was the reason he didn't move it once your breathing had returned to normal. He vowed to keep this heart of yours beating, he needed to feel it every day.

His own heart was beating harder in his chest. You could feel it against your back because of how close you were.

It was silent, you both were walking a dangerous tightrope. Yours was because you finally admitted to yourself you were falling for this older man, you were getting attached and you had only known him for a few days, you were wondering what it would do to you if he died in here. His was because he was already attached to this younger woman, he would do anything to keep you safe, you could ruin his plan if he focused too much on you and he was going to let you.

He dotted a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. You sighed and relaxed into him further.

[marsmaximoff]

💔; crimson pain -a different kind of blood

content warning: gn!reader who plays as number 028. (dating) angst. mentions of death, financial struggles, vomit, blood and fainting.

word count: 1935. i got a bit too carried away 😬

author’s note: finally, here it is. i’ve had this idea for so long but the universe wasn’t on my side, it seems. i really wanted to post it sooner 🥲. as always, constructive criticism is welcomed, and i apologize for the mistakes (english is my third language). oh, and tysm for the support on the jun-ho headcanons post! what do you mean over 1000 likes? that is insane 🤧🤧. i hope you’ll enjoy this one too. 🩷🩷🩷🩷

the sugary umbrella lays on your shaky hand, under the excruciating yet unmasked gaze of the soldier. once the ‘pass’ is given, you stand up ready to get out of there. “you made it!” the voice of the one that has become the closest thing to a friend you could have in here relaxes you ever so slightly. “i almost didn’t. can’t believe i’m adding umbrellas to my traumas list.” having chosen the hardest doesn't surprise you much, not with unluckiness being a part of your life since you can remember. “well, im just happy you did. i thought the square was simple, but now i feel like we should have just chosen the triangle instead, you know? take a look at the survivors; most of them chose it and….” his words fade as an eerie feeling takes over your body, like something’s wrong. turning around, you’re met with one of them, staring right at you completely stiff, not even holding the weapon, merely some feet away.

“is he looking at us?” he can sense the uneasiness too, it seems. “let’s just go.” you can still feel his unfamiliar gaze on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

the doors opening break the silence and the rare calmness of the room. “player 028?” your body freezes completely. a stomach drop follows, and your heart rate skyrockets. no. nonono. you’ve done nothing wrong. is it the dalgona? the figure was perfectly carved out; you made sure of it. are they gonna kill you? two soldiers stand by the entrance, waiting. with a final glance at your friend, who is most definitely thinking the same, you reach the pink guards. you don’t even know what to say, should you beg for mercy? try to stay as cooperative as possible? “be quick.” what? the other one grabs your arm and begins to lead you somewhere. “i-i don’t-” your hands are shaking. “please, i didn’t do anything wrong...” begging it is. “keep. walking.” the words are almost a whisper, tho demanding. a hint of desperation can be heard as well. “okay, okay, ok-” wait. why did those words- no. you’re going crazy. it’s just the anxiety, the fear. 

the stranger takes you to the bathrooms and quickly closes the door. you step back. again. and once more. what now? he wouldn’t shoot you here, right? and why the hell does he look so tense? his hands move to his mask and make it disappear, and with it, the remaining bit of sanity you had.

the nausea from a few seconds ago comes back stronger, maybe you will die today. “jun-ho…” your voice is almost unrecognizable, tho a miracle, given the struggle breathing has become. “what are you doing here?” “i could ask you the same thing.” he’s angry, of course he is, but the hurt in his eyes pains you the most. “no….you need to get out of here.” god. you can feel yourself spiraling. nothing makes sense. “i will. and im taking you with me.” “h-how- when did- i-“ cold sweat has completely taken over your palms. “wait….wait. was it you?…. this morning?” he nods. “i found the damn card they gave you at yours and my brother’s house” what? “in-ho…?” why does everything keep getting worse? “have you seen him?” surely you would remember something like that, “n-no. maybe before the first game…..” you heed your legs’ warning to give up and sit down. “why are you doing this? i dont understand.” it’s not like he could. “they let you out. and you didn’t seek me. you hid yourself. again. i had to learn what was going on from a random man at the station. not you!!” silence between you had never felt this suffocating before, nor the atmosphere so uncanny. “don’t you realize how dangerous this is? they are killing innocent people! haven’t you realized?! 79 have died today. just because of a stupid cookie? what do you think you are doing?! you could have gotten yourself killed! you have no idea how worried i’ve been.” you don’t look at him. this shouldn’t be happening, he wasn’t supposed to find out.

“please, honey. this is insane and you know it. let’s get out of this madness.” the change in his tone of voice is evident, bordering the plea. it’s obvious he’s making an effort to remain calm, to use less confrontational comments. “i can’t.” “yes, you can. we’ll leave the same way i got here, don’t worry. no one will see us.” but you really can’t. you know that well. he sighs, “why didnt you tell me? how could you hide something like this from me? i thought we trusted each other.” 

distress seems to have replaced the blood running through your veins. “i would have helped you, always. i can still do it. if you need money, i’ll give it to you, it’s not a problem.” he keeps going after your negative. “i will. we can find another way-” “there isn't.” “of course there is. i have my savings, we’ll use them. i can ask for a raise. mr kim owes me after all this time. and i could do more hours-”

“its not FUCKING ENOUGH!” the sharpness of your words cuts all over his face. pain flows out, dripping a bloody red. more silence. you could drown in it. well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

“my parents’ house is gonna get seized.” a burning throat accompanies the confession. “i messed up like crazy.” the expected embarrassment doesn’t show up, instead, regret does. “it’s not your fault.” how can he say that? “it is. i got them into this, I'll get them out.” “and you think risking your life here is the only way to do it? thats not true. god, why didn’t you tell me?” you rub your temple. “that doesn’t matter now. you-you need to get out, all this is suspicious.” you are not only trying to avoid the question, the guards could notice at any moment. “i told them you were gonna throw up.” “vomit or not you’re still in the bathroom with a player.” for some seconds, the only noise that can be heard is the shatter of your heart. “honey, listen to me. your parents wouldn’t want this. they don’t even blame you, im sure. how could they ever wish for something at the expense of their daughter’s life?” but the guilt is too heavy, too imprinted on your mind. “it’s not about me. if it were my house, i wouldn’t care, but it’s theirs. i would never forgive myself for not doing anything.” “and there are so many things you could do that don’t need you participating in some psychopaths’ games! do you really not see how dangerous and demented this is? please leave with me.” “jun-ho. think about it. if i ended up here, even after they gave us a second chance, it’s because i want to. no one forced me, and i’m old enough to know what i’m doing.” your replies are getting colder, which you hate. but it’s the only way to make him understand. “besides, they’re all kids' games. they’re easy.” you can only hope he won’t sense your attempt at self-persuasion. “they are shooting people. you could be dead. and i would have never seen you again, or known what had happened.” the urge to cry gets stronger with every word, to dive into his arms and finally feel some sort of calmness, warmth, love.

“i’m sorry that i hurt you, that i made you worry and feel like i couldn’t trust you. but i won’t apologize for being here.” “i don’t want you to apologize. i only want you to get out of here and not die.” his desperation has increased so much it’s swallowed your own distress. “i’ve already won two, i can make it to the end.” you refute. but you read him easily, he is planning to get you out without your agreement, somehow.

“please.” now it’s you that pleads. “if you love me, let me stay.”

his eyes widen, you see them watering. his heartbreak drowns out yours. you are aware you’ve never said anything as painful before. it hurts. more than anything they could do to you here. perhaps you are already dead. “how can you ask me something like this?” maybe you’re desperate, or too blinded by the blame that’s rotting on your insides. or perhaps it’s love. “get out of here. stay safe. and don’t tell the police, jun-ho. don’t even think about stopping the games. i need this, don’t ruin it.” god you don’t recognize yourself anymore. how nice it would be to go back when things were easy. when remorse didn’t control yourself, and you were happy with him. “what do you expect me to do if you die?” “i won’t” “you can’t know that! how can i let the love of my life risk it all when i know i could do something?” understanding such perspective is effortless. if it were the other way around, you too would act like he is.

you approach him for the first time, god how you craved it. your hands cup his pained yet beautiful face and a tear drops. “i missed you.” he says quietly, unable to stay angry at you for long. “i missed you too.” you answer back, wiping the tear. “i missed your face, your voice, your touch. i miss your kisses.” things already ache enough like this, so you give in. the kiss is soft, so fragile, like a bit more intensity would make it disappear. “i love you.” he whispers resting his forehead on yours. “i love you too.”

a knock on the door destroys the illusion. shit. “lay on the floor.” “what?” “lay on the floor”, he repeats, walking towards the door while putting his mask back on, “and play along.” the door opens and the same voice from earlier speaks. “what do you think you’re doing in there?” may that unluckiness give you a rest for some minutes. “she passed out. she was taking too long and not answering back so i entered and found her unconscious.” footsteps grow louder. “player 028…. i don’t remember any health issues on the file… fuck.” you stay as still as possible, it sounds plausible, given the stress. “take care of it, i’ll let the boss know. and don’t take longer.” with that, he exits the room, and you thank his unwillingness to deal with sensitive issues.

sitting back up, jun-ho kneels to your level. “you look good for a faint.” a hint of a smile appears on your face. “are you mad at me?” “i was. mostly worried. i don’t like this at all.” you grab his gloved hands. “i’ll be okay, believe me.” he doesn’t. he can’t. “please, be careful. and think about it. if you change your mind, i’ll be waiting.” you won’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. but you nod. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i hope you’ll carry that with you. i love you so damn much.” his voice breaks, and you tell yourself it’s time to go back, this conversation can only get more and more devastating for you both. you offer the bleeding and broken pieces of your heart. not meaning to cut him this time. and he takes them. how could he not treasure them? you kiss again. it tastes different this time. like farewell. 

and when you get out of the room, you both know that was the last time you’ll see each other. 

[sloaneispunk]

“flowers in your hair”

frontman!in-ho x you (season one)

when the cheeky, happy-go-lucky girl in-ho had met in the games, takes every opportunity to get close to him, he can’t resist her charm.

in-ho slipped out from his bunk, silently observing as all the other players stood around in confusion. he turned around and looked up, looking straight into the camera above him.

“hey, what are you staring at, old man?”

he whipped his head around, eyes landing on you. there you were, a young girl, head resting on your palms as you looked down at him with doe eyes, a big grin on your face. who were you?

“i’m sorry, who are you?” he questioned, making you climb down the top bunk, stopping right in front of in-ho.

“i’m y/n.” you said cheerfully, extending your hand.

in-ho gave you a skeptical look before he took your hand. “i’m young-il.”

“nice to meet you!”

and just like that you were gone, striding to join the others, leaving him baffled and stunned. he stared as you grew further and further away from him, he was mesmerised. never in his years of being frontman had he met someone like you. so cheerful, so mischievous yet so enthralling.

as the announcements were made, in-ho grew bored. his eyes wandered around the room, eyes roaming around the different variations of players. then, he spotted you again. as if on cue, you turned around, giving him a small wave before turning your attention back to the guards who were speaking. in-ho didn’t have the chance to regain his composure before you looked away, he was stunned.

when the first game started, ‘red light, green light’, he was calm. when the first shot rang and a player dropped dead, he stayed in place, watching from his peripheral vision as chaos insued. however, he noticed a still player not too far from where he was at. it was you. somehow you had gotten the gist of the game faster than anyone else in the room. by now, he would’ve expected such a free spirited girl like you to have been eliminated, but you were doing wuite the opposite.

as the game continue, he continued to make him way slowly but surely to the finish line. it was around a minute left on the clock when panic started to set in. he was a few feet away from the finish line. was he really going to fail at his own game?

then, as he got closer and when the doll had turned, he felt a hand grab the collar of his jacket, pulling him right into the finish line before he could bother moving.

“that was close.” he heard a familiar voice say. that’s when he realized, it was you who saved him. “you okay?” you asked looking at him with worried eyes.

“i-i’m okay.” he replied, catching his breath as the timer went down to zero and the remaining players were eliminated.

walking back to the gameroom, in-ho felt a presence trailing behind him. just as he was about to give the person a piece of his mind, he came face to face with you once more. almost immediately, he calmed down, fists unclenching and jaw unlocking.

“i didn’t get to thank you for earlier.” he said, making you catch up to him.

“it was my pleasure, couldn’t let someone like you get shot down like the rest.”

what did that mean? were you flirting with him?

during mealtime, he sat with you, approaching you without question. “why are you so bubbly? this place is depressing.” he asked, watching you enjoy your food.

“what’s not to love? everything here’s better than the shit hole outside.” you shrugged.

in-ho could feel his heart ache as he thought of how your life was like outside the games. something in him thought that you’d at least be better off somewhere with him where you could be like this all the time.

“i like your hair.” he complimented, taking you by surprise as your hand flew to your hair, touching the little flowers you had carefully put in.

“thank you! although, i didn’t take you for the compliment type.” you joked, making him smile. “and he smiles too?!”

in-ho chuckled, you were really something else.

that night when it was time to rest, he watched you from his bottom bunk. you slept so peacefully, he swore he could even see a subtle smile on your face as you turned subconsciously to face. he found himself feeling warm inside when he caught even a glimpse of you. you brought so much joy and bliss to him in a god forsaken place like this.

the next day, he awoke to the sound of classical music blasting through the speakers. but to his surprise, you were already up, putting your hair into a braid, carefully putting the flowers back in your hair. ‘unbelievable’ he thought to himself.

“what do you think the next game will be?” you asked as the both of you hobbled down the stairs to the next venue.

“i don’t know, y/n… but i’m sure you’ll be fine.”

you gave him a smile, nodding.

when you entered the room, you were met with four different shapes. square, circle, star and umbrella.

“how strange.” you mumbled under your breath, only loud enough for in-ho who stood beside you to hear. “which one should we go with?”

in-ho gulped. he knew that he should choose circle, and leave you to be doomed by your fate, but he couldn’t.

“i think i’ll go with umbrella.”

“no.”

you gave him a strange look. “what?”

“come with me, y/n.” he simply said, taking your hand and leading you to the circle. you followed wordlessly, liking how much he cared about you even thought you’ve only met a day ago.

when everyone had picked a shape, the game was announced.

‘dalgona’

“how’d you know to pick circle? it seems like the easiest.” you asked, gazing up at the older man as he only smiled.

“lucky guess.”

as the game began, you and in-ho sat quietly in a far corner of the room, both concentrating on carving the shape out. you had your tongue poked out in focus, eyes squinted and eyebrows frowned, making in-ho choke up a laugh.

“what? are you laughing at me?”

“no. just saw something.” he tried to cover it up.

“whatever, young-il. i’m done so have fun with your dalgona.”

in-ho looked up, seeing you hold out a perfect circle.

“that was fast.” he commented, going back to his dalgona. “why don’t you head out first? i’ll join you as soon as i’m done.”

“and leave you alone? yeah, not a chance.”

his heart fluttered in his chest. he tried his best to suppress his blush by looking down but as he looked at you, sitting with your back against the wall, quietly observing his actions, he blushed harder.

a while later, he was finally done. both of you headed to the exit while the others were struggling to finish the game.

“look at that guy, he’s licking it.” you said, face scrunched up in disgust as you pointed to a man, player 456, who was bent over, licking the dalgona rapidly.

“thanks to me, we don’t have to do that.” he joked, making you smack his arm.

the next day, it was ‘tug of war’. in-ho took notice as you sat in front of him, how silent you became. the enthusiastic, charming aura that floated all around you had vanished.

he had asked you many times if you were okay but the only response you gave him was a nod. not a smile, not a snarky remark. it made him worry.

when it was your teams turn, you stood silently in the corner of the elevator, playing with your fingers. only in-ho noticed how much your hands were shaking, how your breath hitched with even the slightest crank of the elevator. there wasn’f much to be said, he could only take your hand in his, placing a gentle kiss on it, reassuring you.

the team carried out the strategy that sang-woo had came up with-hold out for the first few seconds. when the opposing team had lost their momentum, that’s when you would strike.

luckily for in-ho you were positioned not too far from him. close enough for him to still be able to lay his eyes on you.

when the game started, things got serious quickly. eveyone used every ounce of strength they had. but the plan had faltered and you were losing.

“on my count release!” sang-woo shouted, causing an uproar of discontent from everyone. but what choice did you have. and so you did. the team stumbled forward, half of you hanging off the ledge as you watched the opposing team fall back onto their asses, losing their grip completely.

then, you pulled hard. catching them off guard, slowly but surely dragging them closer and closer towards the edge as one by one, they all fell. soon, the rope was cut off, leaving everyone laying flat on the ledge, lost for words.

when you were headed back towards the main room, you felt an arm snake around your waist, it was in-ho.

“you did so well, y/n.” he said, hoping to get that same cheeky smile from you again, but it never came.

when you failed to reply, he halted, holding you back as the rest of the team went ahead.

“talk to me.” in-ho said in a gentle, almost loving voice. he hands found their way to your face, cupping it gently, trying to give you some sense of comfort.

“i-i’m scared, young-il. i d-don’t want to play anymore.” you admitted, tears springing to your eyes as you spoke.

“oh, sweet girl, don’t cry.” he shushed, pulling you into his arms, kissing your forehead.

“i c-can’t be happy anymore, i-i need to get out of this place, young-il. i don’t w-want to die.” you cried muffled by his jacket.

“i know…let it out, i’m here, baby.” he comforted, stroking your hair.

in-ho hated it. he hated how this place had broke you. stripping away his sun and joy of this place, all he wanted at that moment was for him to be able to hear your laughter again.

then, as if on impulse, he pulled away, bending down slightly to meet your lips. it was soft, gentle, almost innocent. he kissed your lips with so much passion and affection. there was no need for any words, everything he needed to say melted right into the kiss.

when he pulled away, he could hear a small giggle. he opened his eyes to be met with the most beautiful sight he swore he had ever seen. your eyes half teary, hair messy and lips swollen from his kiss.

“thank you.” you said softly, looking up at him.

“anytime, y/n.”

[pricetagged]

Part 2 of that wifehunter john piece instead of working on my wips 💖

Masterlist l Previous l Next

Warnings: implied stalking and voyeurism. Nothing too bad...yet.

Unedited, typed on my phone during break, abrupt ending (part 3 ig?)

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He thumbs at the book, tracing the swirls of your penmanship until the ink fades off and the paper turns to felt. It leaves his fingertips stained, dark as indian ink, and he can't help the satisfied burr that catches his breath as he presses the sticky whorls of his prints into the pages.

Stained. Blackened.

Imprinted.

It's what he wants to do to you in something more indelible than ink, something that would burrow under your skin and linger. (This parasitic desire, he'll bury it in you, make you feel his presence deep in your guts, squirming and wriggling at the back of your mind-)

Of course he returns the book. Returns it to you marked and dogeared and of course you're grateful for it. Tripping over your words and choking on the thanks that build up and tumble from your delicate throat, feelings and words too big for you. 

He knows that, sees the slight hesitance in your eyes as they flit to the window where he knows your useless Buck is ambling about. Shambling. (This marriage is a sham, his claim on you is a sham, one that John is more than willing to seize upon and squeeze until it all crumbles and all that is left is you malleable and soft in his hands).

"Where...where did you find this? I thought-" He sees how you choke down condemnations, not wanting to crack open that door that leaves your husband exposed.

Is it loyalty? Obedience?

Whatever it is, he wants it. Wants to redirect it his way. It itches at him, sits awkwardly like a broken seam, seeing you waste this fidelity on something still wet behind the ears.

On a man who can't even protect his own home, can't even cherish his own wife and has to call John in to pick up the mantle-

"It's good work. Shouldn't leave it lying around, sweetheart," he raps against the front cover, needs to do something with his hands before the impulses take over and he does something hasty. Something that would send you darting back to your husband's arms instead of in to his. "Would be a real waste if it got lost. Taught me how to transplant herbs, now I've got some parsley on my windowsill that's still alive."

It's a lie. He must have strangled the roots, harvested it too soon, something-

But it makes you happy. He can see the glow that warms your cheeks and brightens your eyes. They way your face plumps up, softens, due to your shy smile.

"You should've tried mint, first. It grows like crazy, basically does its own thing. Basil, too." You're grinning, in your element out here. Surrounded by green and the rich, earthy scent of the soil that you till. Geosmin. Oakmoss.

"I'll have to get you over to show me sometime."

He plays gallant so well, offering to help you with the weeding and trimming. It wouldn't be the first time he got down into the muck and the mire. Wouldn't be the first time he stuck his hands in, got them caked and dirty right up to the elbow in order to get what he wants. In order to do what needs done. It's as familiar to him as the uniform he wears.

And your company makes it so much more pleasant.

You smile at him, glancing up from the flowerbeds each and every time he passes you a tool. Eventually you feel comfortable enough to call for him - John? - to tap at his wrist and redirect his hands around the roots and stems below you both. It's a beautiful symbiosis: you, who are so good at wringing life and he who is so good at taking it.

He catches the way the living room curtains twitch, the shadow of the young buck pacing and pawing just out of sight. Too much energy, not enough courage. Not seasoned enough to come out and plant himself between the challenger and his wife. It's stable vice, sending him spinning, uselessly watching as John sidles in and digs his paws into the very foundations of the house. It makes him smile, big and broad as he tugs at a particularly stubborn weed with a grunt.

And when you can't quite get the rubber of the yard gloves to slide over your wrist, he just has to help you. Has to grip at your soft forearm, cooing as you wince.

"Big pull, that's it sweetheart."

You brace yourself so well, pulling back in a counterweight that just digs his fingers in tighter. Blinking back tears, you laugh a little awkwardly. A little thrilled.

And you thank him for it, shaking your arm out and stretching your fingers. All damp from the soil and your sweat.

Unoticing uncaring of the ring that's no longer on your finger.

He has the urge to shake it out of the glove onto the dirt. To burry it and trample all over it until it's dull and forgotten and dead.

But -

But it's still warm from your hand.

It's so fragile, too small to fit properly over his thick fingers and swollen knuckles.

He thumbs at it on his drive home, plays with the smooth face and angled edges as he thinks.

He won't give it back, the thought draws a scoff as he signals into his driveway. No, the only way you're getting a ring from him is on the same day that the ink dries on your marriage license.

But there's the matter of that ugly possesive thing that lives in his ribcage, so close to the surface that the lines blur and shimmer until he's not sure which skin he's wearing. It has him feeling hot, burning up and itching to watch the fall out.

He settles on the settee, cigar in one hand and your wedding ring in the other.

It sits tight just barely at the first knuckle of his forefinger. The screen in front of him illuminates it, makes it glint cold and sharp as it moves lower and lower, over the slight give of his stomach until it reaches the bulge pressing into his zipper. He palms himself, hisses as he feels the metal dig in a little to the sensitive, aching flesh.

With another slow drag, he flicks open his fly and settles in.

Even the slight pixelation of the monitor can't disguise how pretty you are.

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Someone with a big brain please help me to name this haha 💖

Sorry for the delay. Been super demotivated lately. Still got several k of wips that need attention :/

[voxslays]

OSHIBANA — HWANG IN-HO

SUMMARY: Days before your passing, In-ho gives you a lovely bouquet filled with your favorite flowers, as he spends his days by your side—only to discover you turned it into art and preserved it for him to find years later.

This was it. You were dying. He had tried everything to save you. First it was taking out the loans, accepting ‘bribes,’ begging the doctors. Then, it was the games. He had won and come out of the, victorious just for you and your unborn child—which by the time he had arrived at the hospital, was placed into his arms.

It was a happy, bubbly baby girl, and In-ho couldn’t have been happier in that moment…until, he learned of your condition. You looked fine on the outside—maybe a little tired, but overall, you looked like a healthy new mother. But on the inside, your liver was failing. When In-ho was told the news, he couldn’t help but burst into tears, which was becoming less and less rare for him.

The doctors were unsure how many days you had left, so In-ho decided to make them your happiest. He grabbed a bouquet of your favorite flowers. There were orchids, lillies, hydrangeas and many more. Your husband couldn’t help but smile when he saw your bright beaming expression as he handed you the bouquet.

It was ironic. As your breaths grew shorter and shallower, the flowers started to lose their vibrant colors. As you started to decay, they did too. And one day, they were completely gone and the case was left empty. In-ho assumed one of the nurses had taken them, which upset him more than he cared to admit. Couldn’t his beautiful wife get one last glimpse of her favorite flowers before she was gone forever?

But before he knew it, you were dead. In-ho was left as a wealthy widower and single father—left to wander the struggles of parenthood alone. You always knew just what to say to cheer him up, but now that you were gone, he just felt numb and empty inside. A husk of himself before all the games and struggles.

————

Today was the sixth anniversary of your death. In-ho had packed up everything and brought himself and your daughter, Ae-cha to the island per Il-nam’s request. Life as the frontman wasn’t horrible, but he noticed himself spending less and less time with your daughter, the circle guards taking the jobs of nanny’s and childcare workers to please their busy boss.

But today, In-ho had taken the day off to spend it with his little girl. Ae-cha was still the same bright, bubbly child she had been the day she was born. Yet, she was six now and had started asking him difficult questions—Just like she was now. “What happened to Eomma?” Ae-cha asks, her tiny form cuddling into her father.

In-ho’s breath hitches. He had always known a day like this would come eventually—but it didn’t make him any more prepared. “She’s in the sky.” He responds, taking a sip of his brandy. After your death, he had tried to drink away the pain, only to be given a harsh reminder of the consequences by his very own brother, Jun-ho.

Ae-cha giggles. “So she’s like an angel?” She kicks her legs playfully. There was never a dull moment with Ae-cha around, was there? She reminded him so much of you—she had your eyes after all. Yet, it wasn’t only that either. Her personality, her playfulness, it all stemmed from you, a mother she never got the pleasantry of meeting.

In-ho sighs, looking at his hyper little demon. “Can I see a picture?” She asks oh so innocently. In-ho puts on a warm smile, his eyes slightly crinkling at the corners as he slowly gets up. “Of course, gongjunim.” He strolls out of the small living space in his private quarters and into his bedroom. He walks past his dark blanketed, queen-sized bed and to the door at the very far wall.

In-ho opens it with ease, heading down the basement like stairs into the cold storage room. Inside, many files and portfolios of players from past and present games reside. Yet, one small shelf in the middle is reserved solely for pictures and memories of you. As he goes to grab a picture for his daughter, his fingers brush against an unfamiliar mahogany frame.

He picks it up, examining it gently in the dim light. Yet, even in the darkness of the storage room he recognizes the imagery. It was a frame with preserved flowers. On the side were your initials and the date: 12/3/15, the day before he lost you forever. The flowers were familiar too. In-ho recognized them as the ones he had gotten you whilst on your death bed.

So it really wasn’t the nurse then, huh?

In-ho felt tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he saw a small yellow post it stuck firmly onto the back of the frame. “Something to cheer you up! :)” was written in your messy, but cute handwriting. He lightly sets down the frame, as if it’s the most precious artifact in the world—which to him, it is. It’s your last gift to him. A reminder you aren’t coming back.

Your husband finds a pleasant picture of you and carefully puts the framed Oshibana back into the box. He turns off the storage room light and walks back up the stairs, closing the door. He wipes the small teardrops from the corner of his crinkled eyes. If you were here, you’d say something to cheer him up, wouldn’t you? But you couldn’t, and it was pointless to cry.

You weren’t coming back.