ferrarifinnick

[ferrarifinnick]

the pose you’d catch me in if i was in squid game with sangwoo or gihun

[ferrarifinnick]

Hi babes do you think you could write a little something about the reader and sang woo’s honeymoon ;)

Like an expansion of one of your fics you wrote for him

absolutely! i can never turn down the chance to write for him fr <3

added to the wips!

[ferrarifinnick]

── ✦ WIPS!

last updated: july 31st, 2025

𒄬 upcoming projects, in no particular order:

SQUID GAME:

taglist: @wurlii @tastemytears

𒄬 one shots, part ii's:

junho x reader — hurt/comfort, domestic gihun x reader — CAN YOU HEAR ME? part 2 sangwoo x reader — IN ANOTHER LIFE spin off daeho x younger!reader — *legal* age gap (smut) gihun x younger!reader — *legal* age gap (smut) gihun x reader — hurt/comfort

𒄬 series:

junho x reader — slowburn series reader x junho, sangwoo, salesman — au series

𒄬 headcanons:

multi-character — male (smut)

THE HUNGER GAMES:

𒄬 series:

finnick x reader x gale — district 13 (smut)

disclaimer: i live a busy life and don't (usually) have the time to follow a consistent upload schedule, so i often post irregularly. i am also prone to impulsivity, meaning some published works may bypass this list altogether if i write something on a whim. it's just the way i am. but if there's something on the list you're excited for, (kindly) express your interest via inbox.

[ferrarifinnick]

hiiiii idk if you write gyeong seok fic but I’m putting in a request for him (and f!reader)

he doesn’t cross my mind as much as he deserves to tbh 💔 love him tho, so adding him to the wips!

i got u anon 🫶

[ferrarifinnick]

VISCIOUS! | LEE MYUNG-GI (PLAYER 333)

summary: you can only bend so far until you break, and myunggi is about to find out just how badly it's going to hurt.

pairing: lee myunggi x f!reader AU warnings: confrontation, breakup, emotional abuse, toxic!myunggi (canon), childish behaviour, toxic relationship, domestic dispute, physical aggression and intimidation. wc: 1.1k

note: first time writing (excluding headcanons) for myunggi! kind of love how toxic and pathetic he is ??? anyway, enjoy <3

⭒⭒⭒

you had it all planned out.

he was going to hear all the reasons why it wasn't working. all the times he let you down. all the times he promised to change, to be better, only to stay the same as he always was. selfish. cold. mean. all the reasons why you were done.

it's not something you haven't thought about before, breaking up. the idea sounds most attractive when you're crying into your pillow over something he said, or when you're sitting under boiling hot water just so something other than him can hurt you. but now, when every smile he gives only provokes you, and every brush of his fingertips makes you recoil in disgust, you know there's no more putting it off.

he sits on the sofa across from you with a sigh, barely pretending he's interested in hearing anything you have to say after dragging him away from his computer. his knee bounces restlessly, and he keeps stealing glances at the phone you made him leave on the coffee table. he doesn't pretend to be interested in anything you have to say.

but it doesn't stop you. not this time.

"myunggi," you preface, and he doesn't even look at you.

his face is blank, and you see his nostrils flare at the sound of your voice. "what?" he shoots back, impatient.

it takes a second to accept that while this might not be the best time to do this, when he's pissed off and so distant he's nearly on another planet, it has to be done. it can't be delayed for a better time. there is no better time when it comes to myunggi's patience.

so you let it all out.

everything. unfiltered, raw, and so unbelievably done.

it doesn't reach him for a while. he's clearly not listening, and you catch every undisguised roll of his eyes the longer he's subjected to your voice. but eventually, one phrase catches his ear. "birthday," he hears you say without the context, and he immediately knows what you're referring to.

the dinner plans he ditched for your most recent birthday, just to go to a club with friends he won't introduce you to. friends whose names he won't even share with you.

the reaction is immediate. "are you seriously bringing this up again? that was one time, god..." he sighs with exasperation, eyes widening with frustration when he shakes his head at you in disbelief. "you don't hear me bringing up that time you..." he starts but you tune out as you squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself not to react. when you open them again, he's finishing off with "...but no, i moved on, because that's what normal people do."

your blank face doesn't inspire him to continue, just to sit back against the sofa cushions with an air of smugness, like he's won the first battle in a war he intends to win. you let him believe it, because now he's ready to react to what he thinks is the next line to dispute. he's finally listening.

you start back up, not missing the way his eyes twitch like they're waiting to strike back at your next move. it's not enough to sway your resolve, though. even if he thinks it is. after so long being on the defensive with him, it hardly phases you.

it's almost casual the way you say "i just think it's time to close this chapter in our lives."

his eyes twitch again, but with confusion this time. he doesn't know how to respond to that. what that means.

he won't ask, so you explain it for him.

the way your stomach drops when he enters the room. how work has become your favourite place to be, just because it's away from him. how even the barista at your local coffee shop calls out your name more affectionately than myunggi ever has.

how you've finally had enough.

he doesn’t let you finish your speech. the second he realises what you're saying, he cuts you right off with a wave of his hand. every muscle in his face twists with something between anger and disbelief, but it's the sharpness of his words that really sell his bitterness. "so that's it then?" he asks, a mocking edge to his voice. "all this time and effort i've put into you, us, has all been for nothing, hm?"

his eyes are cruel, the way they search yours. probing. invading. like he's looking for something to exploit. something he can use to punish you the way you're punishing him. but he finds nothing but seriousness. and suddenly the anger is giving way to panic. he masks it with an exaggerated scoff, a dramatic glance away from you.

he doesn't stick around after that. he's quick to launch to his feet, to abandon you on the couch as he disappears into the apartment. you don't need to wonder where he's gone because his footsteps are loud as they pound towards your shared bedroom.

the echo of the closet door slamming against the frame comes before the scraping of hangers being torn from the rail, and you don't have to see it to know he's filling up a bag. but it's when he returns, tossing it at your feet, that you realise it's full of your belongings, not his.

he stares you down, towering over where you sit. there's something wild in his eyes. "go on," he seethes, nodding at the bag, then to the apartment door. "get out."

he doesn't give you the chance to go peacefully.

he bends down, yanks up the bag, then shoves it into your chest. he's yanking you up by the arm next and dragging you across the apartment to the front door. it's open in a flash, and through it he shoves you. your shoes join you with a kick of his foot, too. he doesn't linger, doesn't even say goodbye. just one last thing for you to remember.

"i'll close the chapter for you."

the door slams closed, rattles the hinges.

there's a moment of silence. the rush of adrenaline through your veins shifts from fear to relief, and suddenly it hits you. you're free. it crashes over you like a freezing cold wave on a scorcher of a day, and before you know it, you're laughing breathlessly in the hallway like all your belongings aren’t shoved into a trash bag. like you aren’t freshly homeless.

you can’t find it in you to care, because my god you are free! from that miserable existence, from all those tears, and most of all, from lee goddamn myunggi!

you don't even put your shoes on, just pick them up and wave them in the air in victory as you take off down the hallway, skipping and squealing with joy. not a second thought, not an ounce of regret. and blissfully unaware of the scorned pair of eyes watching you fade away through the peephole.

he's too pretty to not be outrageously toxic, but why do i kinda like it ??? like, coment, reblog. love <3

[ferrarifinnick]

CAN YOU HEAR ME? | SEONG GIHUN (PLAYER 456)

summary: the rebellion has failed, and gihun is handcuffed to the bed and withering away. you hatch a plan to help bring him back.

pairing: gihun x f!reader (features hyunju, junhee, guemja, youngsik) warnings: grief, starvation, extreme depression, mental deterioration, traumatised!gihun (nothing new), mentioned but not explored canon violence, mentions of death, loss of will to live, choking, starvation, bad health practices. wc: 4.4k

note: this might be my longest fic so far. also i'm not over losing gihun. coping with the trauma of his loss very poorly, self-serving fic to comfort our poor, sweet gihun. enjoy <3

all he does is sit there.

legs sprawled over the floor. head hung. one arm dangling heavily from the handcuff locking it to the bunk above his head.

it's almost like he doesn't even know he's bound there. the longer you watch him stare off into space, the more convinced you are that might just be the case. too far away to even know where his body is. to even realise he's stuck. maybe he's just too far away to care.

that must be it.

if you had the key to his handcuffs, walked over and freed him, you aren't convinced he'd even register it. not even if you opened every door out of this place and told him he's free to run away and never come back. and even if he did, you don't believe he'd care.

he wouldn't even lift his head. too heavy, too empty.

too far gone.

the longer he sits there, the longer you watch him wasting away, the tighter the knot of concern gets in your stomach.

it's true, the rebellion failed. but he lead it, fought for it, was willing to sacrifice himself for it. you saw that, you know it, just like everyone else should. he risked everything in the name of securing a way out for everybody, to save every life left, including yours. and it all went up in flames.

but the one who really got burned is him.

it was optimistic, thinking he could fight his way out of this place. it's cost him jung-bae, young-il, the others. but what worries you most is that it has cost him his will to live. you can see it in the defeated curve of his posture. in the hollowness in his eyes, fixed somewhere too far away to be seeing anything in this world anymore. but it's the hollowing of his cheeks that worries you more.

you can't seem to take your eyes off them from where you sit with hyunju and the others.

nobody's talking much. guem-ja tries, but nothing she says seems to stick. junhee and hyunju try not to leave her talking into the void, but young-sik doesn't even bother to hide his absence. he's too busy glaring into the dark corner where daeho's curled up. whenever he does find his voice, he always ends up circling back to something about cowardice.

but you? your only focus is gihun.

it's been two days since he's eaten. you know it's true because yesterday he offered his meal to junhee under the guise of making sure she and the baby didn't go hungry, and the rest of what was left on his tray was picked clean by daeho. today's lunch has yet to be served, almost feels like it's not coming at all, and the thought only twists your gut with more dread.

the meal gihun did eat two days ago was only meagre, too. half a stale bread roll that you insisted he split with you, after he'd handed over his tray to daeho without even touching the food. by the time you managed to coax the tray back from daeho, almost everything was gone.

you can't even think about the last time he drank water.

it makes your stomach flip. threatens your ability to keep down your last meal, however meagre. and every bite is too precious to lose to this place, which is how you know gihun is in serious trouble.

even if you could remove his cuffs, if he managed to find the will to live again, he'll be too weak to even climb into his bunk for lights out tonight. never mind competing in the next game, he'll be too weak to even crawl to get there. the thought threatens your foods position in your stomach again. best not to think about it.

but you can't help it!

you're on your feet, forced to by the cold wave of worry that fills your senses.

hyunju glances up at you. "everything alright?" she asks, catching the corner of the blanket you're sharing as it falls from your lap.

guem-ja's equally as concerned. "where are you going?" she asks but you don't answer. it's made clear when you head straight to the one bunk with the silver cuff attached to it.

"it's pointless!" young-sik calls after you, but it only fuels the fire igniting in your body.

maybe it's impulsive, what you're doing. maybe it's reckless, too. after all, you don't know gihun very well. not well enough to know how to handle him in this state, after what he's been through. part of you starts to feel doubt the closer you get. that maybe leaving him alone is better than provoking him. that maybe you aren't equipped to handle this.

the thought of turning around grows more appealing the closer you get to his bunk. you consider just walking past him, like you were really only heading for the bathroom. not him. but as you close in, you see what you're thinking of running away from.

you see him. properly, not from far away.

he's sprawled out. deathly still and so quiet you aren't even sure he's breathing.

he resembles an animal. not a rabid dog, foaming at the mouth and ready to bark and bite. not a little fawn or kitten that's strayed too from from its mother, helpless and afraid. it's worse than that. it's like one that's too wounded to care about the ants and the flies crawling over its bleeding body. ready to be eaten. put out of its misery.

it nearly stops you in your tracks, but it only strengthens your resolve.

you're slow when you move in. unrushed. not afraid, but not confrontational in your movements, either.

your company isn't acknowledged when you sink onto the floor across from gihun. you suspect it's not even noticed. you choose not to sit directly in the way of his otherworldly stare, just as close to it as you can get without blocking it.

the silence isn't charged. it's heavy, sure, but not because of you. it's loss, grief. guilt.

the more you stare, the more you know. it's not something conversation can fix.

any intentions to talk fall out the window. apologising to him about the rebellion falling through, like it's your fault, or anybody's at all? gone. to apologise for the loss of jung-bae, or young-il, or any of the others brave enough to have followed them into the fight? forgotten. lost somewhere between hyunju's bunk and gihun's.

there's something about the silence between you. familiar, almost safe. it's something you've gotten used to since meeting gi-hun what feels like forever ago, but really must be only a few days. he never spoke all that much. the times he did, it was always strategy, advice. he always let you talk, though, and you know he always listened, even if he didn't say much of anything back. part of you wonders about the things he enjoys talking about outside the games. if he likes jokes, if he's more of a story person.

it takes a moment to realising you're frowning at him. not that it matters. if you reached across and slapped him, you doubt he'd feel it. doubt it would even knock his gaze away from where it boars into another universe.

there's no communicating to be done from this far. after all, how do two people talk from different planets? different realms?

the tightness is your chest is slow to form, but sharp, when the thought sinks in that he might forever be unreachable. too hurt, too traumatised. too far gone. it nearly makes you wince. but you look from his far away eyes to his hollow cheeks, and the determination floods back in. bringing him back from his grief is one thing, but it's harder to do if he starves to death first.

you won't allow it. not when he was willing to lay down his life for every other player here. not when he was willing to do it for you.

the less than half empty bottle of water in your hands is your starting point. you saved it after yesterday's lunch, figured it was worth rationing. you brought it with you for gihun, but you don't give it to him. you aren't foolish enough to think he'll just take it from you if you asked, and you aren't cruel enough to force his mouth open and make him drink it. instead, you untwist the cap, take a sip for yourself, and set it between you. open, just there, like a small invitation.

he doesn't look down at it. you don't expect him to. the most you get from him is a blink, and you don't take that as a sign of acknowledgment.

your sigh is gentle and casual when you pull out a crunchy clear packet. it holds another bread roll from yesterday's lunch, something else you chose to save, this time for when your stomach aches too much from hunger to sleep. the longer you stay in the games, the harder it's been getting to sleep. but tonight you'll be well prepared for bed, because you open the packet and take out your bread. only the packet isn't intact, it's split.

the second your fingers brush the bread, you feel it. stale. not that it wasn't served stale yesterday, but now it's solid. if you threw the roll at the wall, you’re certain it’d dent it. the thought crosses your mind to save it to throw at another player to defend yourself if it comes to it, but you’ve made it this far without staining your hands with blood, and you aren’t in a rush to change that.

you lay the wrapper on the ground. despite your doubts, you try to tear the bread into two parts, but it's too stale for that anymore. you settle on snapping it in half. you keep one, but lay the other on top of the wrapper like a makeshift plate. it's not much, but it's something. gihun's half.

it stays there while you take the first bite of yours. the crunch is loud, nearly rips through the dormitory, but you get a chunk of it free. your jaw's already straining when you start chewing it into something you can swallow, and you start to wonder if you've mistaken the bread roll for a rock. you've got the equivalent of a pebble in your mouth, but it's stubborn and isn't making it easy for you.

gihun hasn't flinched, even as you take another bite.

this one's bigger, and every shift of you jaw only draws the violent crunching out. you notice a few heads turning at the sound. your group is watching from the bunks you left them at. as you suspected, nobody's talking, but there is a conversation being exchanged through concerned glances.

hyunju's nearly quick enough to hide her wincing with a tight smile, and junhee's busy pretending the zip to her jacket needs attention. young-sik is polite enough to avert his gaze, too, but guem-ja can't hide the look of concern. for your teeth, no doubt.

they've been watching the whole exchange—or lack thereof—you're sure, but it's alright if they do. they're worried about gihun, too.

there's no need to send out a reassuring smile. you might have grinded your teeth down to your gums with the stale bread, anyway. but it's when you turn back to gihun that you pause. he isn't looking over your shoulder.

he's staring at the bread roll on the floor. his bread roll.

the chewing is paused. but all too quickly you pull your jaw back up to work on the bread. to keep chewing. as if this is somehow the key to getting through to him.

by the time you're halfway through this bite, your jaw is burning from strain. when you swallow it down, your mouth is nearly as dry as the stale air in the dormitory, and if you tried talking, you doubt any words could form from the scratch in your throat. you lower the bread roll onto your lap, and close some of the distance between your body and gihun's as you reach for the water bottle.

you take a swig, let the water wash down the bits of bread sticking to your throat. and then you take another sip, a bigger one this time. you let it sit in your cheeks to re-soak the dryness left behind by the bread, and you're sure you resemble a hamster stowing little pieces of food away in its cheeks. it isn't pretty, the way you swish the water from one cheek to the other as your tongue works to dislodge the worst of the bread from between your teeth. it's less pretty when you swallow the mouthful down, taking those little pieces of food with it.

you clear your throat, pick at your teeth with your tongue, not being mindful that gihun is right in front of you. one glance to him quickly satisfies you that he's too far away to be aware of you right now. but you pause. you remember you have an audience watching across the room.

it's sheepish, the look on your face when you turn to your group again. they all struggle to hide the wince in their smaller attempts at smiles now. it's not hard to tell that they're worrying about it being enough to make gihun snap. maybe they think it's enough to have him reach across and choke you into silence with his free hand. but you know better.

you turn right back to your food, trying not to think back to the way young-il always narrowed his eyes whenever daeho smacked his lips at previous lunches. there's a small flicker of relief that he isn't here to witness you now, but it's quickly replaced by guilt. what an awful thought. with gihun sitting across from you, suffering with that loss, no less.

if your group thinks sloshing your hamster cheeks around is too much, you dread to think about them witnessing daeho charging up a cough to dislodge food stuck in his throat after eating his meals too quickly. but you try not to find amusement in it. not when he's hiding away in a dark corner of the dorm. he's not himself either, but he's handling it better than gihun. he doesn't need your intervention yet.

you let out a light-hearted scoff, thinking about other the times daeho had everyone lurching back with a head bobbing sneeze in the middle of meal times, too close to spraying over someone's lunch tray. you pretend gihun's in on the conversation, like he'll understand what you're thinking. they think that's bad, just wait until they see daeho! but when you lift your head to smile like it's him who made the joke, you're surprised to find him staring right back at you.

your smile drops. every muscle in your body tenses on instinct. now you're deadly still, not just him.

for a moment, you worry the sunken face and stormy eyes are his version of judgement, too. like you've gotten too comfortable. disturbed his silent spiral into despair. but you don't see anger. not at you, at least. maybe it is judgement, but he isn't capable of that. not in his position. cuffed to a bunk, starving half to death. haunted by the voices in his head convincing him that jung-bae and young-il's blood are stains on his hands. in his mind, he's no better than a murderer.

but the longer you hold his gaze, the more you search his eyes, trying to understand how you managed to do it. how you have reeled him back from another planet. back into the same room.

he doesn't look away. maybe he can't. all you know is you can't, either.

there are no words that come to mind. nothing to express how deep your sorrow runs for him, your condolences for his friends. nothing but a quickly mumbled, "sorry... was i chewing too loud?"

it's slow, the confusion that forms in the knitting of his brows, in the blinking of his eyes. he stares like you aren't speaking the same language.

something possesses you to add "i wouldn't eat that," as you nod down to his half of the bread on the floor. "unless you're looking to shave a couple of inches off your teeth, then maybe."

the words are out before your mind can catch up, and when it does, you're left almost as baffled as he is. wasn't the whole point of coming over to encourage him to eat? to drink something? and now you've only gone and told him actually, why don't you push yourself closer to starvation?

it's not worth backtracking. you've already said too much. blown any chance at getting him to take care of himself. walking away would be better than this. leaping off the tallest bunk in the dorm probably even better. both options make more sense than the decision you make to take another bite.

it's not even three seconds until the stale chunk of bread explodes into a cloud of dust between your teeth, and suddenly you're choking on particles as they fly down your throat.

if the water sloshing around in your cheeks before wasn't pretty, it's best not to think how much worse it is when you burst out with an eye-watering, throat-burning cough. but it doesn't end there. you're hacking, lurching forward, clutching at your neck. there's a startling thought that this might be how you get eliminated from the games. choking to death on fragments of stale bread.

it's only when you bend over onto your hands and knees, heaving the crumbs from your throat with your back arching, coughs turning thick and wet, where you realise you must resemble a cat coughing up a hairball. that's when you wish for elimination to grant you the mercy of putting you out of your misery.

just when it's looking bleak, you're stuck with heavy force on your back. it's sharp, almost makes you cry out, and then it's right back to smacking you once again. maybe it's a punishment. it feels fair, for disturbing the dorm, causing such a scene. for having the audacity to die from a bread roll when others have been bludgeoned or shot dead. hyunju wouldn't smack your back, she's responsible enough to do the heimlich manoeuvre for choking. maybe that tweaker—nam-su?—from the o's side of the room has finally had it with you.

but you realise it's neither of those when you hear a gravelly voice follow after another strike to your back.

"come on," it says. flat, empty, but pinched with concern.

it takes a few more slaps to the back to dislodge the dust in your throat, and it's only then do you connect the voice to the face.

gihun.

when you look up at him, panting and still hunched over, he's staring right back. his hand is warm between your shoulder blades, firm with concern that's rapidly diminishing as the grief creeps back in. his other arm is stretched sharply behind him, hand still caught by the handcuff. he's slow to sink back onto his knees, just like you are to push yourself off the floor.

you wipe the back of your hand across your mouth, wiping away a trace of saliva. catching your breath. holding his gaze like if you don't, he'll slip away again.

your lips part. "thanks," you say breathlessly.

he doesn't answer. just lowers his head, just barely. like it hurts to be thanked. but when he looks down, he sees the water bottle again. wordlessly he hands it to you.

you don't hesitate to take it from him, grateful and gentle. you drink until your throat burns a little less, and when you're done, you're careful with your tone when you add, "that was close," like a breathless joke.

his head lifts just slightly at that, and it's like he's fighting a war in his mind when you catch a glimpse of his face. his cheeks are tinted with just the softest shade of red, from sitting up so quickly, you assume. even that must take the energy from him. but you're careful to keep the sympathy far from your expression.

he closes his eyes at the next cough that slips from your lips. it's like it takes everything in him to lift his head, brows pinched with concern, to ask "are you alright?"

and that's when you see it. concern.

your voice doesn't scratch anymore, but you let out a few coughs into your hand anyway, and nod in answer to his question. his eyes track every movement you make as you take another sip from the bottle.

it might not be the full him, but it's a crack. a small one, but still a crack in the armour guarding his fragile state of mind. enough to inspire hope.

when you're finished with the water, you hand the bottle back to him without thinking. he takes it, only he doesn't set it down. slowly, he lifts it to his lips and drinks from it.

it's not much. half a sip at best. but it feels like you have just been told you can leave the dormitory with all the money in the golden pig above your heads.

he hands the bottle back, and something happens. something unspoken. you sip, then he does, and back to you, until you watch him finish off the bottle. you don't fuss, don't stare. you just accept the feeling of relief that washes over your shoulders like waves over sand.

he doesn't reach for the bread. your advice to skip it isn't regretted, because it might've convinced him out of the next lunch the guards bring, whenever that may be. besides, it's not like there's any water left to wash it down, anyway.

him drinking some of the water is enough for you.

he struggles to meet your gaze after that, but you don't mind. the both of you end up sitting beside each other, backs against the side of the bunk he's chained to, settled into another silence. but this time it feels just that little bit lighter. like it did over the last few days since you met him.

time is too hard to track in the windowless dormitory at the best of times, but enough of it passes for you to find the right moment to express yourself this time.

it comes out slow. not hesitant, but cautious. "we can't know what the future brings," you preface. "we can plan, we can prepare, but when the time comes, we are at the mercy of fate more than anything else."

he doesn't respond. maybe he doesn't even want to hear it. maybe he's gone back to the other planet that doesn't have you bothering him on it. but you reel him in one last time with a hand to his knee to coax him into listening to what he needs to hear.

"fate can be cruel, sometimes," you say, and your voice drops to something softer. "but crueller is to punish yourself for trying your best."

he doesn't need to hear more. nor do you feel the urge to subject him to it. and he might not believe his hands are clean, or that he deserves to live. but he has to know that he is not blamed, no matter what that voice in his head has to say about it.

you don't linger. you take the empty water bottle, carefully repackage the bread to avoid spilling crumbs, and make your way back to the others.

hyunju makes space for you on her bunk, but there still isn't much to say. the air is heavy with grief that extends to more corners of the room than just gihun's, and it's clear your words weren't exclusive to only be heard by gihun, either. you can see it in the sombre smile hyunju tries to hide as she drapes the corner of her blanket over your legs again, and you know she's thinking of young-mi. how she feels guilt over her death, too.

but guem-ja breaks the silence. "i didn't think mr. seong would ever stop staring off into space," she sighs regretfully.

young-sik hums in agreement.

junhee meets your gaze, rubbing soothing circles over her baby bump when she asks, "is your throat okay?"

young-sik snickers before you can answer. guem-ja is quick to jab her elbow disapprovingly into his ribs, spouting out words of disapproval, but it's waved away by her son. he turns to you more seriously, leaning in closer as if it's a secret. "how did you know that would work?" he asks. "nearly choking to death on the bread?"

guem-ja shakes her head at him, but you don't miss the curious flick of her eyes when she glances to you, as if she's wondering the same.

you see they're all tuned in, waiting to hear how you pulled it off. you smile softly but don't answer for a moment, your gaze drifting back to gihun. you only look to him for a second, before turning back to say "he's kind," you say simply.

young-sik frowns. "that's it?" he asks.

you glance to hyunju who's just figured it out, her smile slow to form but it carrying a little less grief than before. you stay in the moment with her for a beat, before turning back to young-sik.

guem-ja beats you to it. "you knew he'd never let you choke," she says in amazement.

it draws your smile wider. you nod, confirming that was your plan. there's conversation now, and everyone is involved. for once, young-sik ignores daeho's dark corner and beams about how genius it was, while junhee remarks her surprise that gihun actually drank the water. as they chatter on, you drift away, attention shifting to gihun again.

he's still sitting in the same spot you left him, one hand raised by the handcuff. he doesn't look at you, or anyone for that matter.

but you see it.

the look in his eye. the glassiness coating them. the tension in his brows. signs of life.

he hasn't wandered back to the other planet. he hasn't drifted away. he isn't gone. he's there.

and you wonder if he's thinking over your words. if he's allowing himself to consider the possibility that maybe he isn't to blame. maybe it wasn't him that walked his friends into their graves. maybe fate did have a hand in the failure of the rebellion.

that maybe, just maybe, it isn't his fault.

i will never get over you, seong gihun. like, comment, reblog. love <3

[ferrarifinnick]

WHO WANTS TO BE A DADDY! | MEN OF SQUID GAME HEADCANONS

pairing: squid game men x f!reader includes: sang-woo (218), junho (police officer), dae-ho (388), the salesman, gihun (456) warnings: pregnancy, guilt, manipulation, psychopathy, absence of self-worth, societal pressure. wc: 1.9k

a/n: all are set pre-game/no game except for gihun's, who is based after the first games are complete. also daeho's is so cute i just need him. enjoy! <3

SANGWOO

the subject of starting a family is one that sangwoo, like every other high-risk decision he’s used to making in work, has gone over a hundred times. he's considered every angle extensively to come up with every pro and con for creating life with you, and yet no matter how great the positives are, they will never outweigh the negatives for him. he likes his routine, his work-life balance, his relationship with you which he treasures so deeply. but a baby? it demands sacrifice. one he’s not just unwilling to make, but afraid to. 

it hits him, sometimes. the guilt. always late at night when you’re sleeping on his chest, or when his mother asks about grandchildren. it’s something he never voices, but the thought of being responsible for a living, breathing extension of you both frightens him. just like the thought of sharing your time, affection, and love with someone else does, too. that part he can barely admit to himself. it brings shame, thinking so selfishly. maybe that’s another reason why he shouldn’t be a father. he puts it off for some time, but he knows it isn’t an issue that will resolve itself. it won’t go away. he knows it best when you look fondly at mothers pushing prams, or cradling fussing children in cafes. it takes the guilt falling from his chest to deep in his gut for him to be honest, to offer you the opportunity to leave and find a man who will give you what you need if you can’t find it in him. but choosing him lifts all the weight he’s been carrying, untwists his gut, makes him grateful to have found someone who loves him anyway. it bonds you more than a child ever could. 

no children, because you bring him a kind of wholeness he never thought he could be lucky enough to find. 

JUNHO

if there’s one thing about junho, it’s that he’s decisive. it’s no surprise that after some time, when he’s certain you’re the one for him, that thoughts of starting a family begin to float around his mind. he starts wondering how life would change. when he comes home after a day’s work, would you still be the first to welcome him home? would your cuddling spot on the sofa be claimed by little ones that would squeeze between the pressing of your bodies? it makes him smile subconsciously, and you’ll always catch it and ask what’s causing it, but he never tells. he just lets himself dream. 

but dreams aren’t enough for him. he has to make it his reality, your reality. at work, he finds himself taking on more responsibilities, impressing the boss, trying and achieving promotions. better pay, better hours, all so he can be an active parent with you, so he never misses a milestone or a family meal. only after this will he start trying for a baby with you, and when you eventually fall pregnant, there isn’t a drug on the street that could replicate the overwhelming joy it brings him. but joy quickly competes with proactivity, because evenings and lunch breaks are now spent with his nose in a parental book, while the rest of his free time consists of him fussing over keeping you healthy and comfortable during your pregnancy. this includes the moment you give birth, too. he’s prepared, emotionally more than anything else. doesn’t let go of your hands, feeds you praise and endless encouragement, and it goes without saying that the first thing he does when your baby is born is check in on you. 

years down the line, when the kids are nearly as tall as you, he sometimes finds himself sat at the dinner table alone when the rest of you are fast asleep. he thinks back to the days where you and he would eat your dinners here, plan vacations to japan sometimes. now it’s the home of family dinners, where game nights are held on friday nights, where each of you help with homework. sometimes he has to sit here alone to let it really sink in. all those things he imagined, wished for, worked for... his dreams. they all came true. 

DAEHO

it starts early. too early to ever admit to. maybe from the moment he first lays eyes on you, or maybe it’s when he hears you speak for the first time. even better when it’s to him. all these thoughts flooding his brain, some curious, some embarrassingly smitten already. but it’s the fantasy of a future with you that brings the most shame. barely a conversation into your relationship, and he’s already pictured what side of the bed you prefer—away from the door, he thinks, decides—if you’re more of a cat or dog person, and it doesn’t end there. he thinks of wedding dresses, matching rings, whether you prefer an apartment or house, and of course, how many kids you want to have in your life. with him, he dreams so early but doesn’t dare voice at risk of sounding insane. maybe he is, because within a few months of your relationship, he’s frequently adding suggestions to a list of baby names he’s preparing to show you one day. 

this is how you find out about his dreams for the future. the list starts with girl names, and it’s so extensive that you don’t reach the section for boy names, and immediately you worry that he’s secretly keeping track of every girl he’s ever slept with. daeho won’t realise the look of horror on your face isn’t because you’ve figured out he wants kids, until he starts rambling about how he doesn’t want to start trying right away or anything, “but when the time’s right, we could...” and it’s the look of confusion that stops him from blushing about baby making. he blinks, mirroring your expression. “are we talking about the same thing?” he asks slowly, and it’ll take a moment for you to pick up his phone and scroll further down to the boy names section for everything to click. 

being on the same page about having a big family doesn’t meaning rushing into it, and it’ll take a few years before any attempts at trying for a baby begins. when it does, it’s heavily researched by daeho with the use of google, and some strange strategies are applied under his guidance. like him rolling you back on the bed after sex with your legs and hips in the air for ten minutes to “let it all get to where it needs to be.” but it’s part of the fun, just like the late-night pregnancy cravings that daeho always joins in on. 

he’s silly and a little clueless at times, but he makes up for it with the overwhelming warmth and love he showers you and your kids with. he’s your best friend through the whole process, does the dirty work of changing diapers and tidying up toys with a smile on his face, because this is what he was made for. being your husband and the best father to your kids. the only issue you’ll ever have with daeho is when your kids are begging for fast food from the backseat, and daeho joins in when they relentlessly start chanting “wendy’s, wendy’s, wendy’s!”  

THE SALESMAN

there is no man better suited as the father of your children than him. he makes sure you know it, think it, feel it. he’s the kind of man who’d read stories to your kids every night, help them tie their shoes, take them to all their after-school activities. he would show up. be present, patient. you wouldn’t ever have to worry with him around to protect the family. he would be firm, but fun. take them out for ice cream behind your back, but step in if they ever gave you attitude or a hard time. he would be everything you could ever dream of, ever ask for. and perfect is what he would be, if it weren’t for the fact that hiding behind all that charm and irresistible beauty is a psychopath. 

he shows you sides of him that make you dream, lulls you into the fantasy with honeyed words and sweet promises of a future. but you can’t trust it. it’s just another web of lies he spins to bind you to him. a fantasy of what could be, but never will. nothing that will ever manifest, because in his perfect smile and his perfect promises, you’ll notice just the tiniest edge in his eyes as he sells you the world. amusement. he dangles that dream like a carrot on a stick, lets your fingers graze but not grasp, before yanking it from your reach. over and over. and you’ll fall for it every time, because he’s infected you like a cancer that spreads until it kills you. all for his own pleasure. 

GIHUN

he thinks about you a lot. what kind of person you are, the things you value, how you possess such a potent sense of good that it makes him believe in his own potential. that he can be good, too. good enough to be someone you could call husband, and one day your kids could call dad. he pictures it. your family. it falls so close to perfect. he sees a loving marriage his kids could look up to, one they would strive to achieve later in their own futures. he sees you cooking dinner with a little version of him on your hip, while he helps a little version of you with her homework. he sees himself hosting sleepovers for your kids and their friends, ordering pizza and dishing out ice cream, stealing a bowl for the both of you to share in a rare moment of alone time in your room. he thinks your kids would be set up for a good life in your home like this, with the two of you showing them love, safety, peace. setting them up for success by reading to them every night, helping them with homework, so that maybe one day they could achieve incredible futures like sangwoo had for a while. 

but that’s when the picture fades. just like the light in his eyes, the warmth in his soul, because he knows he can never have that. not when his own flesh and blood has become so secondary to his selfishness over her short life. second to him, second to pleasure, second to everything and anything. he isn’t what you need, what you should want. he can’t fulfil the fantasy. that picket white fence he dreams of catches fire, burns down with the house you will never live in. ignited by his distrust in himself, in the absence of faith he has in himself. 

it can be restored, his hope. it will take time, and a lot of healing, too. but he can be reached. he can be saved from his lack of self-worth. he just needs to be exposed to that sense of goodness you carry with you like a second skin, to believe there is light in the world, to believe that light can shine on him. and when it finally does, that fantasy of a family isn’t so far away, it isn’t just a dream. it’s something he can see manifesting with his daughter, with you, his family. 

can't decide if daeho or junho as baby daddies is cuter. guess i'll just take both. like, comment, reblog. love <33

[ferrarifinnick]

damn. forgot how liberating it is to channel my inner freak into writing for fictional men. it’s intoxicating honestly

squid game version is on the horizon 👀

SWITCHING POSITIONS! | THE HUNGER GAMES HEADCANONS

going feral thinking about thg men and their fav positions to put you in. this was so much fun to write and sooo hot 🫢🫢 also this is a lil bit longer than my other thg headcanons. are we loving longer or shorter headcanons pls lmk?? anyway, enjoy <3

includes: gale, finnick, peeta

warnings: sub/dom, switch, p in v, manhandling, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cum, creampie.

gale has an insatiable need to overpower you. he likes his body to be on top of yours, pinning you down and threatening to crush you if he ever decides to stop supporting his own weight. he’ll lift your legs over his shoulders in missionary then lean down to kiss you, just so you feel his weight pressing you into the mattress. but he doesn’t just want to weigh you down. no, he wants you to feel powerless. expect him to manhandle you. he’ll toss you around, lifting and bending you into whatever shape or over any surface he desires. and resisting is futile, so if you do, don’t be surprised when he takes hold of your chin and forces you to look up at his disappointed face. “thought you knew better,” is all he’ll say, before he’s lifting you into his big arms and bouncing you up and down on him.

it’ll be too slow, slow enough for you to whine at the punishment, and that pathetic cry is almost enough to bring him to his knees. almost. instead, he’ll say, “oh, so now it’s too slow for you?” with feigned shock. then he’ll shrug and say, “don’t be sorry for what comes next.” cue him pinning you to the mattress, face in the blankets as he rams in and out of your pussy from behind. when you’re crying out at your second orgasm, he’ll say “no tears! you asked for this.”

he comes alive in missionary, standing up cowgirl, and PRONE-BONE (hands on your back, full weight crushing you into the mattress).

when it comes to sex, finnick has very few reservations. despite his sexual past, he will turn very little down for you because for once he feels safety in his sexual explorations. the only nonnegotiable for him is being able to see your face at all times. it grounds him, and more importantly, it encourages him to enjoy sex. like gale, he likes showing off his strength by lifting you up and down on his cock. but finnick is a switch, and he loves the feeling of falling out of power just as much as he loves the feeling of getting it. so when you push him down on the bed (or sand, boat deck, or shower floor), he’ll put up no fight as you climb on top of him and take charge. expect strong eye contact, but don’t blink here or you’ll miss that smirk stretching into a grin. the only time it will disappear is when he’s about to cum. eyes rolled back, throaty moans spilling through his open mouth, and don’t be afraid when he pinches your hips and fucks his own up into you. he just really likes getting deep inside you when he cums.

shines best in standing cowgirl, cowgirl, missionary (he likes watching your face when he first pushes himself inside you).

peeta isn’t fussy. as long as you’re the one who’s over or under him, he’ll be up for anything you want. but being underneath you is his favourite, especially when you get a little bossy and tut at him for trying to push up into you, or when you peel and throw his hands away when he cups your tits without your go ahead. it drives him crazy to be so powerless, and he appreciates every second that he gets to watch you bounce or squat on him, because he knows just how lucky he is that this is his view. but sometimes you go too far. sometimes you pin his hands down for too long, or he’s had enough of your tuttings and teasings. sometimes he thinks you forget that he lets you be in control.

you might miss the dark shift in his eyes when he’s decided you’ve gone too far, but you’ll know it when he has your face pressed into the mattress, strong arms caging you beneath him as he grunts out “think you can tell me off, huh?” between powerful thrusts. “no, peeta,” you’ll cry out, but he’ll ignore you. he’ll keep going, thighs slapping heavily against the backs of your own. “peeta!–” you’ll beg, but this time he’ll tut at you and slide his hand over your mouth. “shh, i didn’t say you could talk, did i,” he’ll say, and when you silently shake your head, he’ll grin and affectionately say “ah, there’s my good girl.”

routinely finds himself in under you in cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, but comes alive in DOGGY!!

sorry but peeta’s makes me GIDDY hehe. please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging. love <3

[ferrarifinnick]

the freak in me craves pervy!sangwoo who just can’t help himself from giving in to those sick thoughts in his head

THE WOLF | CHO SANG-WOO (PLAYER 218)

pairing: perv!sang-woo x fem!reader summary: it's the ones you least expect that will pray on you. warnings: implied but undescribed smut, manipulation, sexual coercion, perversion, dark themes, age gap (legal! reader in early 20s), naïve reader, father figure as a manipulation tactic. word count: 0.9k

sang-woo sat on the edge of your bunk bed. he followed you back into the hall after the end of the first game, red light green light, without realising, so focussed on your little frame that trembled at every bark of the guards. even now he was towering over your little frame as he sat beside you. he settled into the silence between you. normally he enjoyed silence, but he didn’t want it with the pretty stranger he’d just taken an interest in.

but he didn’t take it personally. you’d each witnessed so many bullets pierce over half of the bodies you’d woken up in the hall with earlier this morning, so it wasn’t surprising that you weren’t feeling chipper.

he glanced down at your lap. your fidgeting hands were trembling, and he wondered if the blood on your skin was yours. he didn’t really care either way, but he wanted you to think he did. so he took your discarded jacket from under your lap and wiped your hands as clean as he could get them.

he didn’t want to stain his own jacket with the blood of strangers.

when he finished doting on you, he hooked your jacket over the side of the bed and only then did he notice the blood on his own hands. it certainly wasn’t his, so he quickly checked your head was still hung before wiping his palms on your jacket, too.

sang-woo then leaned back beside you.

“hey,” he said quietly, as if he didn’t care if you heard him.

you glanced up at him and his heart nearly split in two just like that. your pupils were blown wide, eyebrows knitted together with your bottom lip pouted out. “yes, mister?” he barely caught the squeak of your frightened little voice.

he didn’t fight the urge to scooch closer and wrap an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “it’s alright, it’s over now. you’re okay,” he cooed, heat rushing into your skin as he rubbed your arm comfortingly.

you immediately melted under his touch and clung onto his shirt, nestling impossibly closer. “i want to go home, sir. i want to see my mother,” you cried into his chest, and he held you tighter.

“you’ll see your mother soon.” he didn’t know why he promised you, only that he did. you relaxed into his touch further and he couldn’t help but add, “i’ve got you for now, til you get home to her safe.”

he worried why you pulled away from his embrace, but his nerves eased as you gazed into his eyes like he’d promised you the world. “really, sir? you’ll look after me?”

sang-woo swallowed the lump forming in his throat. he knew it was wrong, and he blinked and looked away to try to stop it, but all he could think about was you on your knees looking up at him like this. like your saviour. like your ticket out of this nightmare.

he steadied his breathing and glanced back at you. “i will,” he agreed, and wondered if you could sense the battle in his head. so he lied, and he didn’t know why, but he settled on easing any suspicion about his motives by telling you, “you remind me of my daughter.”

your eyes widened and you rested a hand on top of his. he looked down at your entwined fingers, his comically larger than yours.

“oh, sir,” you sighed sympathetically. “you must be really worried about her.”

sang woo nodded, a tight lipped smile forming to please your concern. “yes, i…” he sighed for effect, and continued. “i worry about her a lot,” he said, and glanced from your hands to your face. “if she were in these games, i’d want somebody to be looking out for her.”

the smile spread across your face slowly, lighting up your eyes and suddenly you were glowing. sang-woo thought you looked much more beautiful like this, like you weren’t traumatised.

“just like you’re looking out for me,” you finished his thought, squeezing his hands reassuringly, as if to say you’re such a good man.

but he wasn’t. sang-woo was anything but a good man. he knew it to be true because he didn’t even have a daughter, and if he did, he wouldn’t want her running into a man like him. a man who only wanted one thing.

sang-woo didn’t let himself dwell on what he was or wasn’t. he squeezed your hand and looked you in the eye, channeling all the warmth he could feign as he told you, “why don’t you share my bunk with me tonight? i worry what the men in the room might think to do to a young girl like you when it gets dark.”

if anyone else had said it, maybe you wouldn’t have agreed. maybe you wouldn’t have said, “that’s very kind of you, mister.” and maybe then you wouldn’t have been trapped under his body when the lights went out that night.

and maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t be walking funny when the lights came on in the morning.

in every girl’s life, there comes a day where she learns that men with honeyed words are the ones to trust the least. but not you. the sweet words roll off sang-woo’s tongue like a river, and you drank every drop he gave you.

and every night, when the lights went off, you followed him into his bunk and believed him when he told you he only wanted to keep you safe from the dirty men in the bunks around you. that he was only making sure no man got any sick ideas about you. that he was only slipping himself inside your hole to distract you from your worries of the next games.

that he was only looking after you, just like he’d hope another man would do for his daughter.

i would let this man manipulate me any day of the week with PLEASURE !!! like, comment, and reblog please. love <3

[ferrarifinnick]

the doctors still won’t let me leave 🫩🚬

Me in the mental hospital after watching the jump rope game

[ferrarifinnick]

FIX IT! | MEN OF SQUID GAME HEADCANON

you're upset and isolating because of something he did, and he just has to find a way to fix it...

includes: junho, sangwoo, gihun, daeho warnings: sfw. themes of guilt and regret, yearning, loneliness, unpleasant memories, tension. wc: 0.9k

note: yeah, daeho's version made me a little emosh ngl. he's just a sweet boy who deserves the world. also, gihun's is based on season 1, where he's a little whiney and pathetic (just the way i like him). let me know if you agree/disagree. enjoy! <3

── ✦ JUNHO (THE DETECTIVE)

he isn’t too proud to admit when he’s wrong, but when you aren’t ready to talk or willing to accept a verbal apology yet, he’ll show up for you in other ways. the kitchen will be subtly reorganised, and those dishes by the sink from breakfast are washed, dried, and stored away neatly. he’ll throw out the old vegetables in the fridge, change that one lightbulb that flickers sometimes, might even take a look at fixing that barstool that squeaks. all little things you might not notice, but ones you’ll appreciate, even if only subconsciously. he doesn’t do any of it for recognition, or even to encourage you to warm back up to him. he does it because he’s sorry, and he wants to bring you happiness in any little way he can.

he won't let himself dwell in his regret, but it doesn't mean it doesn't kill him when the only thing he needs after a long day at work is a hug that you won't give him.

── ✦ SANGWOO (PLAYER 218)

it's the distance that eats at him. returning to a silent home after work, eating dinner at the table alone, falling asleep on separate ends of the bed without a goodnight. it's worse than physical pain, because at least then he'd have a wound to clean and bandage. but instead, there's just guilt. and it gnaws. he'll try working late at the dining table, go for a run when the thought of walking into the silence of your shared bedroom is too unbearable, but it isn't distracting enough. it isn't good enough.

on his way home from a run, he'll stop by the market to pick up some ingredients to use for dinner. he isn't normally one to cook, not alone at least, but he'll make you something that he finds comforting. a warm broth, something nostalgic that his mother might've made him as a child. he won't force you to eat with him, but he will wordlessly bring you a bowl and cutlery, hoping that you'll accept his peace offering. if not to reconcile, then to at least make sure you're fed and spared the burden of cooking or starving for the evening.

── ✦ GIHUN (PLAYER 456)

it's not so much your absence that hurts. instead, it's the crushing weight of being responsible for it. it's a hard pill to swallow, and one he can't face for a little while. he sets up in the empty living room. puts on the tv just a little too loud like he usually does, but this time it's so you hear him. hear when he laughs at a sitcom, when he guesses the answers to a quiz show. all so you can't ignore his presence. and if he's feeling especially guilty, he'll self-soothe with a bottle of beer, maybe two. it looks like sulking because it is.

but at the bottom of that second bottle, he'll find the courage to face the fact that he's to blame for it all. it's something he has to sit with before he can think of ways to make it up to you, but when he's processed it, accepted responsibility for causing your hurt, he gets busy. the dishes you've been nagging him about are washed, the laundry is folded, the trash is emptied and disposed of. heck, even the couch cushions are neatly tidied, just how you like them to be. it's nothing that shouldn't have already been done, but he hopes you'll see him trying to be better. it is performative to an extent, he wants you to see it and be grateful, but it is wholeheartedly an admission that he acknowledges his wrongdoings and cares about you enough to express his regret to you.

── ✦ DAEHO (PLAYER 388)

distance between you frightens him more than a loud noise in the middle of the night. at least there's a procedure to follow there. barricade the door, hide under the bed, arm himself with a lamp if he has to. but with you hiding from in the bedroom, the shoe feels like it's on the other foot. he feels like the late-night intruder, shut out by the barricade that is your closed bedroom door. Sure, he could open it, it's not like it’s locked, and he won't find you under the bed or holding a lamp. but what he will find is worse. because there is nothing worse than your cold shoulder. 

he desperately struggles with being shut out. it brings him back to those times where his sisters would be gone for weekend sleepovers, and he'd be all by himself. forgotten. watching cartoons alone, eating cereal alone, trying to enjoy the silence around him but feeling just so helplessly alone. it feels just the same, only he feels ashamed when he cries about it now. he can only pull a blanket that smells like you over his shoulders, hug a couch cushion like it’s you he’s holding. look at your smile in picture frames and long for you to come back to him. 

but he will try to speed up the process, in his own way. he lights candles in the apartment, just so when you leave the bedroom you might smell them. he puts toothpaste on your toothbrush after you've gone to sleep, so that when you wake up you won't need to. he even lays out fuzzy socks and fresh pyjamas on the bed for when you get home from work, just so you can find comfort sooner. they're only little things, but he prays you recognise the love and longing behind them, and he hopes it's enough to bring you back to him. 

sorry for the image of poor daeho all alone and upset, there's tears in my eyes too i promise. like, comment, reblog. love <3

[ferrarifinnick]

(WO)MANSCAPING! | WOMEN OF SQUID GAME HEADCANON

how they each tend to their gardens…

includes: sae-byeok, jun-hee, ji-yeong, hyun-ju, no-eul, se-mi pairing: squid game women x f!reader warnings: light sexual themes, brazilian waxes, clit piercing mentioned, brief mentions of pre/post-gender affirmation surgery and emotional experience (very lightly touched upon), gender expectations and stereotypes ???, established relationships implied.

a/n: finally got round to the girls' version! you can read the guys version here. just wanted to stress that i am not trans nor am i familiar with the emotional experience pre/post surgery, so if i got it wrong please do let me know! anyway, enjoy the headcanons and let me know if you agree/disagree! enjoy <3

SAE-BYEOK (PLAYER 067)

let's get one thing straight: what sae-byeok has going on underneath her panties is nobody's business but hers, alright? don't ask. don't pry. just leave it alone because that information is privileged, you know? it's not like she cares about something as insignificant as pubic hair, anyway...

it's just a coincidence that on the day of your first date she takes a little pair of scissors to carefully trim down her bush, shaping it into something neat and tidy. sure, it's the first time she's ever done this in her life, but it has nothing to do with you. no, really! it's just a coincidence that she always does it before seeing you, too. and when she has a leg propped up on the side of the bathtub, meticulously examining every spot with a hand-held mirror between her legs, it's just another coincidence that the mirror's at the height you would be if you were kneeling in front of her.

JUN-HEE (PLAYER 222)

the first thing you'll notice about jun-hee is how much attention she pays to grooming herself. she always smells sweet like strawberries or vanilla, and her skin is always dreamily soft like she's coated in butter. she'll almost have you fooled into thinking she doesn't grow body hair, because without the cover of clothes, there's barely ever a trace of hair existing below her waistline. but that's all by design.

she's a busy woman behind the scenes. leg and bikini waxes twice a month, and after that she's armed with a mirror and tweezers to finish the job. then there's exfoliating, moisturising, and don't forget the sunscreen when she's meeting you at the park in a sundress. it's almost exhausting the effort she puts in for you, but the way you admire her like she's a work of living art makes it all worth it. strokes her ego, too.

if you're interested in waxing, she'll book your appointment for the same time as hers. she considers it a little date, and will get matcha lattes after its done as a treat for the pain. if you're brave during the wax, she'll be so impressed and later, she might let you inspect the results of her intimate wax up close. wink wink.

JI-YEONG (PLAYER 240)

if there's one thing about ji-yeong you should know, it's that she has a creative spark. she has several adult colouring books, a vast collection of markers, and one of her favourite pass times is doodling pink and blue leopard prints with black and red pinstripes on the same page. call it a clash, but she likes the fun that comes with colouring outside the lines. naturally, this creative vision isn't limited to just her colouring books.

occasionally you'll find stripes or zigzags shaved into her pubic hair, always poorly executed but she doesn't mind the imperfection. she likes your reactions to her creations — especially when your eyes widen or you get a little giggle out of it. she'll definitely attempt carving your initial into the hair once, but it won't come out right and you'll lecture her over the little nicks she picks up. but it's worth it! and she loves the way you gently try to hide your concern or amusement.

HYUN-JU (PLAYER 120)

pre-surgery, this is an emotionally sensitive area for her to confront. shaving makes her feel in touch with her femininity, but understandably highlights her discomfort in her physical body most. leaving it wild and untamed feels worse, though, so she settles on trimming her garden neatly. but post-surgery, when everything is exactly how it's supposed to be at last, this will completely change. she will have so much fun shaving fully for the first time after healing, and you bet she will build a routine that lets her pamper herself like she deserves.

like jun-hee, she will take excellent care of her skin. moisturising religiously, exfoliating pre-shave, and replacing razor heads regularly. she'll always change yours when they're in need of it, too! she definitely has a purple razor with built in lubrication, and she'll keep it on the side of the tub right next to yours.

NO-EUL (GUARD 011)

there are only two sides of this coin. she is either fully clean shaven, or rocks a uniform bush. there is no schedule for which style she goes for and when, but there is a pattern. when her mental health drops, she feels no desire to waste time trimming things down or shaving herself bare. there are more pressing things in life, and she will feel vulnerable if you aren't okay with this. it's not that she necessarily has a preference for being clean shaven, but rather sometimes she doesn't always have the motivation to stay on top of it. it takes time, effort, even money for all the products, and sometimes she falls in and out of if it's really worth it.

but other times, she enjoys the feeling that comes with being hairless. specifically laying in bed with the sheets brushing her smooth skin — that's a sensation she enjoys.

SE-MI (PLAYER 380)

se-mi is almost always clean shaven, but there is one very specific detail that never changes. she has a landing strip. it is always there, no matter how many days its been since her last shave, no matter what. just one stripe of hair up the middle of her pubic bone, and if you follow it down, you'll absolutely find a clit piercing. she isn't into lotions or exfoliating, too much effort. but a clean shave 1-2 times a week is a routine that works for her.

hitting the salon with jun-hee is so cute lol i need it. like, comment, reblog. love <3

[ferrarifinnick]

WAILING IN DESPAIR

Season 3 didn’t happen

Season 3 didn’t happen

Season 3 didn’t happen

Season 3 didn’t happen

Season 3 didn’t happen

Season 3 didn’t happen

Season 3 didn’t happen

Season 3 didn’t happen

Season 3 didn’t happen

Season 3 didn’t happen

Season 3 didn’t happen

[ferrarifinnick]

director hwang i will NEVER FORGIVE YOU ‼️

we had hope and you gave us a SLAUGHTER. A MF SLAUGHTER ‼️

it didn’t have to end that way it didn’t have to end that way it didn’t have to end that way it didn’t have to end that way it didn’t have to end that way it didn’t have to end that way it didn’t have to end that way it didn’t have to end that way it didn’t it just didn’t

[ferrarifinnick]

A TO Z! | CHO SANGWOO, SQUID GAME (ALPHABET HEADCANONS)

everything you need to know about cho sangwoo...

warnings: nsfw (obvs), sexual discussion, sub/dom, mental health, sex, masturbation, age play, shame, ejaculation and cum discussion, protected and unprotected sex, daddy kink, genitalia description, foreplay, post-sex.

wc: 1.9k

a/n: first time using this format and loving it. breaking through writers block as season 3 is approaching, lets gooo. lmk if you agree! anyway, enjoy! feedback super appreciated for this one. love <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he falls into silence. he might lay there with you, might start pulling his clothes back on. whatever he does will be in silence, the kind that’s full of processing and emotional acceptance.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

sang-woo’s height is one of the features he thinks people find most attractive about him, and it’s what he likes about himself physically, too. he feels protected by it, and knows how to use it against others. but aside from that. he thinks his facial structure is quite handsome.

he’s more interested in his partner’s face than body. it’s what will set you apart from the others, and what he likes looking at of you the most. but if he was pressed for detail, he’d admit your smile was his most favourite feature. he craves drawing it out of you by thoughtful acts of service like making you coffee on tired mornings, or carrying you home if your heels hurt on date nights.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

sang-woo practices control in all aspects of his life, and that applies to sex. he insists on protection via condoms for a long time, but it’s also for ease of clean-up after the act. cum is messy. it gets on the sheets, sticks to the skin. he will indulge in raw sex when he feels like giving into his urges, but it’s rare.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

his height, his build, his cool authority has him slipping into a dominant role in your life with ease. from assuming a position of power over you both domestically and in the bedroom, it’s no surprise that he’s aware of the paternal figure he’s coincidentally moulded himself into for you. so, sometimes, in the heat of the moment, when he’s helping you with budgeting your salary for the month, or when he’s rolling his hips to guide you through an orgasm, sometimes his mind wanders. to places it shouldn’t, but does regardless. to imagining you calling him what he shouldn’t want, looking in his eyes and moaning the three letters he craves. dad.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

like every man, he has needs. despite his self control, he still dabbles in sexual exploits, but only one night stands that start in a bar and end in a stranger’s bed. he knows what he’s doing, is good at it, and gets to put it to use on someone he still expects to see come morning.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

prone bone. he gets to be vulnerable less confrontationally behind the privacy of your back, and can choose how much of himself to give to you. hands can press into the mattress beside you, or they can plant his weight on your back when he feels more desperate to connect. he can close the distance when he wants to. trace his lips over the skin of your neck, or bite down on your shoulder when he reaches his orgasm.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

sex is incredibly serious to him. he isn’t vulnerable with ease, so he relies on you to make him feel respected with the pace he takes things. sex is about shedding the layer of armour he wears like skin, letting his walls down to connect in a way that says everything he can’t outside of the bedroom. that’s not to say he won’t crack a soft smile or smirk when the moment calls for it. an unexpected moan, a twitch of your hips. he sees you reacting to him, and sometimes it’s amusing how much he can make you react to his touch.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

has a regular routine to keep his pubic hair and body hair in order, chest and abdomen included. shaves with cream, warm water, regularly changes to a fresh blade. all his body hair is black like the hair on his head.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he’s observant, always processing the reactions of your body and ready to adjust to improve your experience. he isn’t one for words, but he’ll guide you through his emotions with soft breaths when you’re on the right track with his body, and growls when you push him closer to the edge. especially if you talk dirty to him. it makes his head go fuzzy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he’s pretty disciplined. as an adult, he knows that offers temporary relief and usually has him feeling worse afterwards. so he keeps it to a minimum. usually only when you’re out of the house, leaving him alone at home for a rare moment of solitude. he’ll usually go in the shower, lean an arm against the wall in front of him, and finish without a rush, always thinking of you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

daddy (and secretly dad) kink, dirty talk, sub/dom dynamics, slow sex while sharing a cigarette or glass of whatever alcohol you were drinking before slipping into bed.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

your shared bed, almost always. but he’s not opposed to slipping into the shower if it feels right, like during a few spare minutes during your morning routine. car sex is reserved for when his self control slips, and he needs to shamefully take you in the middle of a car park at night after some drinks.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

he likes letting the sexual tension build. brushing his hips against you when squeezing past in a doorway, towel purposefully hanging low on his hips after a shower. he needs to tension to simmer. he needs the tension to become heated, unspoken, burning. only then will the sex be worth it to him. it all stems from his habit of repressing emotions. this way, he can feel so much more during sex.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything where he loses all control, like being tied up or pegged. it’s not to say he wouldn’t enjoy it if he tried it, but rather he is too afraid of the feeling of being stuck. vulnerable. at the mercy of someone else, even if that person is someone he trusts. he just can’t let himself be in that position.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he finds giving easier than receiving. sinking to his knees, hiding between the heat of your thighs is comforting. the feeling of being accepted so close to your biggest vulnerability, it awakens the emotions pushed deep down inside of him. it makes him feel worthy. to make you feel good feeds his ego, and it’s difficult to get you through to your orgasm without his hand finding his arousal and joining you over the edge.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

dependant on his mood and his mental health. if he feels like he isn't drowning in despair, he takes his time. slow drag of his hand down your spine, arching you into position for him. slow but intense pace, losing himself in the steady rhythm of your bodies. but if he's empty inside, and the aching absence of light and joy is consuming him, he is almost merciless. it's not desperate, it's not lacking control. it's trying to spark life back into him through the one person that brings meaning to his life.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesn’t believe in quickies. sex is an emotional experience for him, and he believes taking his time is part of how he can connect with his feelings. he doesn’t rush foreplay, won’t advance to the next stage until it feels right. that goes for both of you, too. he’ll be observant to your reactions,

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's hesitant to try new things. he knows what he likes, and what you like, and routine is something he feels comfortable in. he is more inclined to try something new if he can exercise control over you, as opposed to giving it up.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

no more than two rounds, but prefers one. sex can be initiated on a whim, but it's rare he'll ever let it be over quickly, or else he'd rather not engage in it at all. it's vulnerable for him, and building up slowly makes him feel more at ease.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

no, he won't use any toys on himself. but he will allow you to use them on yourself during sex, like a vibrator, but he does find it distracting. it's harder to feel in the moment, and he'll likely be a little dissociated during and even post-sex. it'll feel like he's being cold, but he's just in his head.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he's reasonable. he won't torture you, or push you too far during sex. foreplay is a little different, though. he'll take his sweet time initiating it. agonisingly slow trail of kisses from your lips to your neck, down your chest, abdomen... will even kiss down the outside of your thighs just to circle back up the inside. but when he gets started on the main event, he's much more forgiving.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

controlled and restrained. he'd rather your sounds drown his little ones out, or else he'll focus too much on himself instead of the moment. but he isn't silent. he'll gasp, grunt, even growl if you let something dirty slip. especially if it's something that calls attention to the age gap.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he feels a lot of shame about being so much older, but it fuels his sex drive like nothing else when you call attention to it. "old man," "sir," "appa," it all gets him feeling so guilty but insatiably turned on. if you bring any of it up during sex, it'll fuel a guilty orgasm, and he'll feel immense shame afterwards. but he'll never resist.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's toned under his clothes, almost religiously grooms himself. he is a touch above average size, around seven inches. but it's his girth that sets him apart. he's blessed and knows it, but even though he'll get a little shy if you say it out loud, he loves it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

low to medium. he's disciplined, isn't controlled by his dick, and appreciates saving sex and masturbation for when he actually wants it. will never jerk off or fuck out of boredom, thinks it's weak and counterproductive to maintaining a healthy relationship with sex.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

never. he'd never admit it, but he gets a little fragile. he needs time to process the emotions unsurfaced, or to sit with shame if he engaged in taboo sex (like ageplay if you had been calling him daddy sexually). he won't cry or get emotional, that's not his process. he needs time to lay there, thoughtful, quiet, maybe smoke a cigarette, and eventually he'll warm up to you again.

i yearn for this man can u tell. like, comment, reblog. love <33

[ferrarifinnick]

GIVE IT UP! | THE BOYS HEADCANON

a girl flirts with him at a bar, but all he wants is you...

includes: homelander, frenchie, butcher

warnings: longing, mind games, jealousy, physical touch, repressed feelings, flirtation, unrequited love

wc: 0.6k

an: how many months has it been? too many. writer's block will do that to ya :( a fresh change from all the squid game and hunger games content, but i'll be back for headcanons don't worry. feedback appreciated as always. enjoy <3

HOMELANDER

he's no stranger to women fawning over him. he's the homelander, he can get anyone he wants, as he should! you don't just come by gods like him every day. but, lately there's this thing he feels in his chest when a girl is hitting on him. it gnaws at him, aches for him to leave the situation. to return to you. but you aren't his to go to, not yet, and so he plays up to the attention he gets. lets women touch him in flirtatious ways, lets his hands wander to waists or thighs, but only when you're watching. only when he feels the burn of your gaze. and it sets him on fire in a way nothing else could. when he catches your green eye, it fills him with the validation that you want him, that it's getting to you.

it's the perfect excuse to find you later that night when you're pouting or drinking to forget, and casually hit you with a "what, don't tell me you're jealous, sweetheart?" you might think he's cruel to taunt you this way, but he's only gauging your reaction. testing if you're as into him as he is you. it's a game to stroke his ego, but don't think for a second he'll tolerate the same from you.

FRENCHIE

connections find him. in the catch of an eye, the brush of a hand, the scent of perfume drifting by. it's accidental, fateful, something he powerless to. it just happens. so when he's leaning on the bar, waiting for the bartender to acknowledge his existence and his eyes meet those of a beautiful stranger, he doesn't resist. he drinks her in until hands are brushing, words dripping with desire. but when she takes his hand, starts to pull him along, set the dance they've started in motion, he doesn't budge. he's rooted to the ground, heavy with clarity that he can't go through with it. not when he can see you across the bar, chatting away with the guys, throwing him a little smile that sets his body on fire. he peels off the girl's hand, holds it sincerely when he says, "forgive me, madame, but i belong to another."

it isn't true, he isn't yours, for you have yet to claim him. but he reserves himself for when you do, quietly aching under the trance you have him in. longing for the day those words ring true.

BUTCHER

he's in need of no validation, and his ego isn't in need of a stroke from pretty women. but sure, being hit on by a pretty face isn't the worst thing in the world, especially when he's nearing the bottom of his fourth pint of the night. he'll play along, lean closer to the body he'll be ending the night with in the alley behind the bar, let this be his distraction from the torment you're causing him. but that's just it. you. his eyes drift across to where you sway your hips to the beat, near the bottom of another pink cocktail. it's the touch on his arm that brings him back to the girl in front of him. his eyes narrow, a cruelness weaving its way into his call for her to "piss off, would ya?" and if she doesn't get the hint, his big, cold shoulder does the trick.

when he joins the group again, it's with a dainty cocktail in his calloused hands. handing it over with a brush of his rough fingers, he'll say its for "'aving me back the other day." but that's exactly what he said last time, too.

butcher longing for me would make me fall to my knees tbh. like, comment, reblog <3

[ferrarifinnick]

you can’t just ruin all other men for us like this junho

🧩- 𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐮𝐧-𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 🧩

𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟐