skatazz

[skatazz]

guardian devil

cho hyun ju x f!reader with features of namgyu x f!reader and myunggi x f!reader

warnings: attempted homicide, violence, fluff

based off of this request linked here

SPOILERS FOR SQUID GAME SEASON THREE BELOW -> DON'T CLICK 'KEEP READING' IF YOU DO NOT WANT SPOILERS!

a starry night maze glowed under a canopy of artificial stars, its twisting corridors echoing with the desperate footsteps of players in the fourth game of the squid game.

the rules were brutal for the blue team: navigate the maze, find the exit, and survive.

meanwhile, the red players had to stop at least one blue player in order to survive by any means necessary.

the prize money loomed over every decision, a cruel incentive that turned allies into enemies.

for you, a red team player, the stakes were higher than money.

hyun-ju, your girlfriend, was out there, her blue team uniform marking her as your rival in this twisted game.

however, your love for her burned brighter than any star in the maze’s false sky.

you and hyun-ju had been together for two years. she was the stronger one in the relationship, her military training giving her a physical edge you could never match.

in this maze, your heart drove you to protect her, no matter the cost. hyunju's ankle, already badly injured thanks to another red player from earlier, slowed her down, making her vulnerable.

you’d promised her before the game began that you'd keep her safe. you wanted to switch with her actually, but hyunju refused in order to keep junhee safe.

hyunju'\'s calloused hand had squeezed yours, her dark eyes fierce with trust.

“its better for me to be a blue player, than it is for you, love.”

now, your white sneakers pounded against the maze’s cold floor, the red fabric clinging to your sweat scented jacket. the ceiling was shimmered with swirling galaxies, disorienting and cruel.

you’d passed the game already, finding an injured blue player that asked you to take them out of their misery.

as you turned into another corner... you saw a sight which nearly took the breath out of you.

your blood ran cold as you sprinted down the maze. all you saw was 333's knife glinting under the starry light, raised to strike.

time was slowed.

your body moved before your mind could catch up.

“no!” you roared, launching yourself at 333. your shoulder slammed into his chest, sending him crashing to the ground.

the knife skittered across the floor, bouncing out of reach.

hyun-ju spun around, no realizing that someone was about to attack her from behind.

the woman's eyes wide with shock as she registered what had happened.

“y/n?” she gasped, her voice trembling with relief and fear.

you scrambled to your feet, standing between her and 333, who groaned on the ground, clutching his ribs from your tackle.

“are you okay?” you asked, not taking your eyes off him. hyun-ju nodded, her breath ragged.

“i’m fine.” hyun-ju's hand grazed your arm, a fleeting touch. you wanted to pull her close, to kiss her and promise you’d both make it out, but there was no time.

“come on,” you said, helping her up.

hyunju's injured ankle couldn’t bear much weight, so you slung her arm over your shoulder.

“we’re getting you out of here.” you say.

"wait--" hyunju stops you.

you looked at her confused, before you look into the room that hyunju was looking into shortly before 333's attempted ambush.

its junhee, holding a newborn baby as geum-ja looks at you, exchusted.

together, you guided all four of them toward the exit.

when you reached the exit, a cheerful song blared, a hollow victory.

you made sure hyun-ju, jun-hee, geum-ja, and the baby crossed the threshold to safety before turning back.

hyun-ju grabbed your wrist.

“y/n, don’t go back in there.” her voice cracked, her eyes pleading.

“i have to,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“i need to make sure that the others are safe.”

you kissed her, pouring every ounce of your love into it.

“i’ll come back. i promise.”

the maze swallowed you again. it didn’t take long to find player 333, still sprawled where you’d left him, clutching his side.

before you could say anything, player 124 danced up the maze, his eyes glassy and a manic grin plastered on his face.

he was high, the drugs making him unpredictable.

“well, well,” he slurred, clapping 333 on the shoulder.

“you almost had them, huh?”

“are you both crazy?” you snapped, your voice shaking with rage.

“you already killed someone. you didn’t need to go after others just for fun!” your fists clenched, the memory of hyun-ju’s unawareness fueling your anger.

namgyu laughed, swaying slightly.

“fun? nah, it’s about the money, y/n. every kill makes the prize bigger. why stop at one?” his casual cruelty made your stomach churn.

“you’re disgusting,” you spat, your voice low and venomous.

silently, you hoped they’d be the next to fall in this brutal set of games.

you didn’t care about the money, not anymore.

all that mattered was hyun-ju and her safety, her life, her love.

you turned away, leaving them in the maze’s cold glow, determined to return to her side.

as you reached the exit again, the cheerful tune mocked you once more.

beyond the door, hyun-ju waited, her eyes lighting up when she saw you.

you pulled her into your arms, careful of her injured ankle, and held her tight.

“i told you i’d come back,” you whispered, smiling as happy tears formed in your eyes from seeing your lover still alive.

masterlist

[skatazz]

lockscreen

namgyu x f!reader

who wouldn't put their cute boyfriend as their lockscreen?

warnings: mentions of drug addiction. angst into fluff

this was requested <3

loving namgyu is never hard.

it was the easiest thing in the world, really.

what was hard was watching him destroy himself, knowing that no matter how much you loved him, no matter how much you wanted to save him, he had to want to save himself first.

those first months together were some of the hardest of your life.

namgyu was drowning in his addiction, and you were barely keeping your head above water trying to pull him out.

you spent too many nights waiting up for him, only for him to stumble through the door smelling like alcohol and smoke, eyes red and unfocused.

there were arguments, slamming doors, nights where he passed out before you could even say goodnight.

still, you stayed, because you loved him.

because you saw the man he could be, even when he couldn't.

love alone wasn't enough to fix him.

eventually, after one too many broken promises, one too many nights spent crying yourself to sleep,

you made the hardest decision of your life...you walked away.

not because you stopped loving him, but because you loved him too much to watch him keep destroying himself.

it was during that time apart that namgyu finally decided to change.

he checked himself into rehab, cut off the people who enabled him, and found a new job...one that didn’t have drugs and alcohol in every corner, one that didn’t drag him back into temptation every night.

you didn’t know all of this at the time.

all you knew was that, after months of silence, he showed up at your door sober, steady, and more sure of himself than you had ever seen him.

he told you he was clean. that he had been for months.

most of all, that he still loved you.

taking him back wasn’t a decision you made lightly.

when you looked into his eyes, really looked, you saw the man you had always believed he could be.

that was all you ever wanted.

now, three years into your relationship, things were different.

they were better.

namgyu still had his moments of doubt, but he had grown so much.

he smiled more now, genuine and unburdened.

he let you love him without questioning why you did.

he loved you in return in a way that left no room for doubt.

the two of you never minded using each other’s phones. there were no secrets, no reason to hide anything.

so when namgyu needed to check something online and his phone was charging in the bedroom, he didn’t think twice about picking yours up from the coffee table and unlocking it.

what he didn’t expect was to see a picture of himself staring back at him.

it wasn’t a picture he had taken or one he even remembered being taken.

as he looked at it, his breath caught in his throat.

it was from when you both visited your family in your home country over a year and a half ago.

the golden hour sun cast a warm glow over his face, softening the sharp lines of his jaw.

his black hair, always brushed, looked almost blue under the sunlight.

he looked… healthy.

he remembered that trip well.

it had been just three months into his sobriety.

he had been shaky then, still learning how to exist without numbing himself with substances, still wondering if he even deserved to be happy.

he hadn’t realized you had captured him like this...at a moment when he was still struggling, still doubting himself.

yet, somehow, in this photo, he looked at peace.

he stared at it for a long time, fingers hovering over the screen as a strange feeling swelled in his chest.

“when did you set this as your lock screen?”

his voice came out quieter than he expected, almost hesitant.

you had just stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around your body, damp hair dripping onto your shoulders.

at the sound of his voice, you glanced up, eyes flicking to your phone in his hands.

when you saw what he was talking about, a soft smile tugged at your lips.

“i’ve had that as my lock screen since the evening it was taken.”

namgyu blinked. he looked down at the picture again, then back at you.

“wait, really? but that was… that was over a year ago.”

you nodded, walking over to him.

“yeah. i never changed it.”

namgyu felt his throat tighten. of all the pictures you could have chosen, you had chosen this one.

a picture from one of the most vulnerable times in his life.

a time when he still wasn’t sure if he was worthy of a second chance, of happiness, of you.

yet, you had seen something in him then that he hadn’t seen in himself.

setting your phone aside, he reached for you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck.

you smelled like shampoo and warmth and everything safe in the world.

“you’re a great photographer,”

he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.

you let out a soft laugh, running your fingers through his hair.

“and you’re a good model.”

he huffed out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

“nah. you just make me look good.”

“you make yourself look good,”

you murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“you always have.”

namgyu tightened his hold on you, his heart full in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.

he had spent so much of his life convinced that he wasn’t enough.

that no one would ever look at him and see something worth loving.

but you did.

you always did.

masterlist

[skatazz]

new director

namgyu x f!onlyfans!reader

this is a part two to my namgyu fic linked here

warnings: minors do not interact. 18+, smut. sex work involved and included in this fic. vulgar dialogue. switch!namgyu. switch!reader. vocal namgyu. p in v unprotected. breeding kink.

a year has flown by since you and namgyu became partners, both as a couple who happened to grow as each other's best friend as well. everything has clicked into place.

you’re still fantasygalaxy on onlyfans, your online empire thriving with subscribers who can’t get enough of your photos, videos, and sultry voice calls.

the money’s steady and flowing (big bank ayyy), the work’s fun, and you’ve got it locked down. there is never in-person stuff, just digital seduction from the safety of your penthouse.

namgyu was the one exception, the only guy who’s ever crossed that line from screen to reality. he’s cool with your hustle, never bats an eye when you spend nights filming, transforming into whatever role your fans are craving.

thats one great thing about your boyfriend, he respects you outside of this work. he loves you as y/n, even though he appreciates fantasygalaxy too.

sometimes he is there just off camera, watching you while he’s still pentagon.gyu. he loves throwing cash at your content like it’s a game.

he does it half to support you, half to mess with you, like he’s staking his claim as your number-one fan.

“I gotta keep the algorithm happy,” he’ll joke, but you know he loves it. early on, you both set a hard rule: he stays out of your videos. no appearances, no hints of a boyfriend.

your subscribers, especially the men and gay women, would lose it if they knew you were taken, and neither of you wants to tank your income over some drama.

you’ve built something solid with namgyu.

it’s not just sex, though there’s plenty of that, it’s coffee runs, late-night takeout, him teaching you how to play some dumb video game while you laugh at his nerdy excitement.

he’s your boyfriend, your bestfriend, and it’s weirdly normal despite how you met.

still, you keep your worlds separate: fantasygalaxy is for the fans, but namgyu’s for you.

one night, you’re prepping to film, hyped for a new role-play you’ve been teasing on your page. you’re going full naughty housecleaner—think skimpy black dress, frilly apron, thigh-high stockings, maybe a feather duster for extra flair.

you’re arranging your setup in the living room, candles flickering for ambiance, when disaster strikes.

your tripod, that trusty piece of junk you’ve been meaning to replace, snaps in half mid-adjustment.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you shout, hurling the broken legs across the room. they clatter against the wall, and you’re fuming, pacing like a caged animal.

“this is just my luck tonight.”

namgyu’s sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone, one eyebrow raised at your outburst.

“ you good? what’d the tripod do to deserve that?” he’s teasing, but when he sees the genuine frustration in your eyes, he sits up, tossing his phone aside.

“okay, for real, what’s the problem? you look like you’re about to set it on fire.”

you groan, slumping against the table.

“it’s fucked. i was supposed to film tonight and I promised a big post, got everyone hyped, and now my setup’s ruined.” you kick at the broken pieces for emphasis.

“i can’t just hold the phone myself. it’ll look like amateur hour.”

he stands, stretching, and walks over, nudging the wreckage with his foot.

“so what’s the move? you canceling?” you shake your head, chewing your lip.

“no way. i’ll lose momentum if i skip. i just… ugh, i don’t know.” then it hits you, and you look at him, eyes narrowing with an idea.

“actually… you could help.”

he freezes, hands halfway into his pockets.

“help? like, what, hold your props or something? i’m not getting in your videos, y/n. we agreed since I don't need weirdos to come into club pentagon and jump my ass.” you laugh, waving him off.

“not like that, relax. i mean film. hold the phone, get the angles, be my director. you stay behind the camera, no one sees you, no one knows. you could be a friend for all they know.” he blinks, processing, then a slow grin spreads across his face.

“director, huh? you trying to put me to work now?” you step closer, poking his chest, voice dropping playfully.

“come on, it’ll be fun. you get to boss me around for once, and i’ll… make it worth your while later.”

he’s sold, eyes glinting, “deal. but i’m not going easy on you. i want oscar or daejong worthy shit.”

you snort, already heading to change, “yeah, yeah. just don’t drop my phone.”

you slip into your outfit with a tight black dress that barely covers your ass, lacy apron tied loose, stockings gripping your thighs just right.

the tattoos on your arm, those starry swirls namgyu’s obsessed with, peek out as you adjust the straps. you catch him staring as you step back into the room, and he clears his throat, picking up your phone like it’s a lifeline.

“fuck, you look…” he trails off, shaking his head.

“nevermind, let’s just do this before i lose it.”

you tweak the role-play on the fly. instead of a solo housecleaner bit, you pitch a new angle: you’re a maid who’s slacking off, and the

“director”—namgyu, behind the camera—catches you, ordering you to make up for it with a show. it’s perfect. he’s involved without showing his face, just his voice barking commands to sell the fantasy, and you can play off it without breaking your no-boyfriend rule.

“so,” you say, twirling the duster, “i’m lazy, you’re pissed, and i gotta make it right. sound good?”

he nods, already in director mode, “yeah, but you better sell it. i’m not holding this thing for nothing.”

you start filming, and it’s electric from the jump. you saunter over to a table, bending low to “dust,” your dress riding up to flash your panties—black lace, a fan favorite.

you glance at namgyu, and holy shit, he’s struggling. the poor man's joggers are doing a bad job hiding his boner, the outline of his dick clear as day, but you bite your lip and stay focused.

“is this good, sir?” you purr, dragging the duster slow across the table, arching your back for the shot. his voice comes rough from behind the phone.

“not good enough. you’re slacking... make it worth my time.”

it’s hot, the way he’s leaning into it, and you’re feeding off his energy.

you strip halfway, peeling the dress off to reveal a matching bra and panties, tossing the apron aside like it’s an afterthought. you climb onto the table, crawling slow, letting your hips sway as you look at the camera...not at namgyu, but it’s hard not to when you know he’s right there.

“better?” you ask, spreading your thighs just enough to tease.

“keep going,” he says, and you catch the strain in his tone.

“you’re not done till i say so.” you roll onto your back, trailing your hands down your stomach, stopping short of anything too explicit.

it’s a tease, not a finale, and you want to keep the fans begging. you slide off the table, straddling a chair, running your fingers along your thighs, smirking as you hear namgyu shift, probably adjusting himself.

“cut,” he finally says, voice like gravel, and you’re on him in seconds. you snatch the phone, toss it onto the floor somewhere, and crash your lips into his, climbing into his lap.

he groans, hands flying to your hips, pulling you flush against him.

“what the hell, y/n.. stop teasing me?” he pants, already grinding up into you. you can feel him through the joggers, hard and throbbing, and it’s driving you wild.

“tease?” you murmur, biting his lip.

“i’m about to give you everything, baby.”

you slide off him, tugging his joggers down, and his cock springs free... thick, leaking, begging for you. you don’t hesitate, you climb over his lap and sink down onto him right there on the floor, his length stretching you in that perfect, aching way.

“oh, fuck, yes,” you gasp, rolling your hips as he grabs your ass, thrusting up hard.

“fuck you’re such a desperate little slut,” he growls, voice dripping with venom, “couldn’t even wait to post that video, huh? needed my dick right fucking now.”

you laugh, clenching around him, making him hiss.

“talk all you want, namgyu, but you’re mine. i can ride this cock whenever i damn well please and you know that.. you let me every time.”

he’s losing it, hands roaming your back, your thighs, like he can’t get enough.

“shit, you’re so fucking soaked,” he moans, slamming up into you.

“I love watching you work for those losers online, but this? this is all mine.” you lean forward, nails digging into his shoulders, voice sharp.

"ahhh-- fuck! its all yours.”

it’s vulgar, messy, skin slapping as you fuck him hard, chasing that high.

“you love it, don’t you?” you taunt, slowing your hips just to mess with him, “knowing you went fro being one of them to being the only one who gets to fill me up.”

he’s close, you can tell since his thrusts are sloppy, desperate, and he’s cursing under his breath. you’re right there with him, but you try to hold off, squeezing around him to drag it out.

“don’t you fucking dare,” he snarls, catching your game, “don’t hold what i’m trying to get out of you.”

he thrusts harder, deeper, and it’s game over...you’re cumming, a sharp cry ripping from your throat as your body locks up, pleasure crashing through you.

he’s right behind, groaning your name as he finishes inside you, hot and thick, spilling inside of your walls until you’re trembling.

you collapse against him, both of you gasping, sweaty, wrecked. Namgyu's arms wrap around you, loose but warm, and he kisses your shoulder, muttering, “holy shit!”

you laugh, still catching your breath, head resting against his chest, “you’re not bad for a first-time director.” he smirks, already cocky again.

“give me a week, i’ll have you nominated for best actress.” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, content to stay there for a minute, his cum still warm inside you, feeling like the world’s just you and him inside of a studio... when in reality it is just your sky-rise penthouse.

masterlist

[skatazz]

favorite subscriber

namgyu x onlyfans!reader

you find out that your biggest subscriber on onlyfans is a mutual friend of yours.

warnings: MDNI!!! smut, 18+. oral (namgyu receiving). namgyu being pathetic. sex work. only fans. vulgar dialogue. reader has tattoos!

this was requested

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑔𝑦𝑢'𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑟 (𝑦𝑜𝑢)

you’ve carved out this wild double life for yourself, and it’s working like a charm.

by night, you’re holed up in your sleek penthouse, the city skyline glittering through the windows as you craft content for onlyfans. the cash flows in...more than you ever thought possible...because the guys who subscribe are hooked.

especially the ones your age, mid-20s, who lose their damn minds every time you drop a new post. you keep it anonymous, though, always filming from the collarbone down, never showing your face.

it’s your little shield, letting them project whatever they want onto you while you stay untouchable.

your top subscriber is a guy who's user is pentagon.gyu.

he is the one who keeps things interesting. he’s shy in his messages, all stutters and soft words, but when it comes to buying your personal content...custom videos, private photos...he’s possessive as hell, dropping cash like it’s nothing to keep you to himself.

you’ve done sex calls with him before, his voice low and hesitant at first, then intense, like he’s holding back a flood. well, because he was.

there’s chemistry there, crackling through the phone, but you don’t know him. you do not know his face, not his life, and he doesn’t know you either.

come daylight, and you’re a different person. you’re out in the world, blending into the crowd like it’s second nature. you visit your family, chatting with your mom over coffee like nothing’s out of the ordinary. you wander through farmers markets, picking out ripe peaches and fresh herbs, or sign up for ceramics classes where you spend hours shaping clay into lopsided bowls. sometimes you hit the gym, sweating it out in leggings and an oversized hoodie, keeping it lowkey.

you dress modestly...loose sweaters, nice baggy levi jeans, sneakers...and no one would ever peg you as the girl who rakes in thousands by night.

it’s a quiet life, a normal one, and you love how it balances out the chaos of your other world.

one night, everything collides.

your friend se-mi invites you to her party, and you figure, why not? you slip into an black tube top that hugs your frame just right and a pair of faded levi blue jeans, casual but cute.

your arm tattoos are on full display, though...those fine-line stars swirling around your right arm, a mini galaxy you got inked years ago because it felt like you.

it is the same tattoos pentagon.gyu’s rambled about in his messages, obsessed with how they shift when you move. you don’t think about that as you head to se-mi’s place, though. you’re just there to have a good time.

the party is alive when you arrive...music thumping, people spilling out onto the balcony, drinks sloshing in red cups. if you had to guess, there is maybe a hundred people in this small house.

you find se-mi by the bar, laughing with some girl while some purple hair guy raps his head off... clearly he is trying too hard. the guy's name is thanos.

another dude, namgyu, lingers nearby, quieter, watching the room with this steady gaze. you don’t know them, but they’re friends of se-mi’s, so you figure they’re cool.

you’re chatting with her, sipping something fruity, when thanos swaggers over, laying on some ridiculous rap to get your attention.

“yo, girl, you’re a vibe, let me slide in, take you for a ride,” he drawls, grinning like he’s god’s gift.

you force a smile, trying to be nice, but it’s not your thing.

“uh, thanks, but i’m good,” you say, keeping it light. he shrugs and keeps going, undeterred.

namgyu, though, he’s still watching. the guy's eyes snag on your arm...those stars...and you don’t notice the way his jaw tightens.

he knows that he knows those tattoos. he’s seen them a hundred times in your personal videos, memorized the way they curve around your skin.

when thanos finally peels off with se-mi because the dj calls them over, namgyu doesn’t move. he steps closer, hands in his pockets, and his voice cuts through the noise.

“well its nice to finally meet you, fantasygalaxy.”

you freeze. the drink in your hand feels heavier, the air thicker. you turn to him, wide-eyed, heart slamming in your chest.

“w-wh-what’d you just say?” you ask, voice shaky, hoping you misheard. he tilts his head, casual as hell.

“don’t play stupid. i know it’s you.” your mind races. no one’s ever recognized you outside the app...your face isn’t even out there.

you try to laugh it off, grasping at straws.

“fantasygalaxy? what’s that? some sci-fi thing?” but he’s not buying it.

he steps closer, voice dropping... “if it makes you feel better...i’m pentagon.gyu.”

your stomach lurches. this is the guy...the one who’s dropped 20 grand on you in the last few months, who’s whispered your name through the phone like it’s a prayer.

“you’re serious?” you manage, barely above a whisper.

he nods, and there’s this awkward beat where neither of you knows what to say.

“yeah. been a fan for a while,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, almost sheepish, “didn’t think i’d run into you here, wasn't even aware that you were good friends with one of mine.”

you don’t know what to do, so you gesture to the bar.

“uh, sit?”

he follows, and you both settle onto stools, the party fading into the background. it’s weird as hell at first...tense, like you’re waiting for him to turn into some sleazy asshole.

he doesn’t. he’s just… namgyu, sitting there, sipping a beer, glancing at you like he’s trying to figure you out.

“so,” you start, fidgeting with your drink, “how’d you know it was me?” namgyu smirks, just a little.

“the tattoos. your body. i’ve seen enough of your stuff to put it together. wasn’t expecting the face, though. you’re prettier in person.”

you flush, caught off guard.

“thanks.” it’s not creepy, not the way he says it...just honest. you relax a bit, leaning on the bar.

“you’re not gonna, like, tell anyone, are you?”

he shakes his head fast.

“nah. not my style. your secret’s safe with me.”

there’s a pause, then he adds, “i’m not some weirdo, y’know. just… a guy who likes what you do.”

you talk for hours after that, the awkwardness melting away. he’s not thirsting, not pawing at you like you’ve seen other guys do with other sex content creators.

he’s chill, funny even, telling you about his job at as a club promotor and how he stumbled onto your page one late night after another man recommended your page to him.

“didn’t mean to get hooked,” he admits, laughing.

“but those stars? they’re kinda my favorite.” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling.

“you’ve said that before. on the calls.” he blushes, caught.

“yeah, well, it’s true.”

it’s 3am when you glance at the clock, the party thinning out.

“i should find se-mi,” you say, sliding off the stool.

“tell her i’m heading out.”

he nods, hesitating like he’s about to say something.

“i was gonna give you my number,” he starts, but before he can finish, you pull out your phone, heart pounding.

“here,” you say, typing it in and handing it over.

“text me. maybe we can… i dunno, meet up sometime.” his eyes widen, like he didn’t expect it.

“for real?” he asks, and you nod, swallowing hard.

“yeah. just… don’t be a creep, okay?”

“promise,” he says, grinning as he saves it. you give him a small wave, then slip away to find se-mi, your mind spinning.

you know you’ll see him again... pentagon.gyu, namgyu, whatever he is.

a few days after the party, you’re texting namgyu, fingers hovering over the screen as you figure out what to say.

it’s weird, this shift from pentagon.gyu, your faceless top subscriber, to this guy you’ve met in the flesh. he’s the one who suggests meeting up, casual at first.

“wanna grab coffee or something?”

when you agree, he switches it up.

“actually, how about my place? i’ll cook. nothing fancy.”

you hesitate, stomach flipping. this isn’t just coffee. this is real, physical, crossing a line you’ve never crossed before.

all of your sex work has been digital photos, videos, calls...safe behind a screen. now it’s namgyu’s apartment, and you know where it might lead.

still, you say yes.

you show up at his place, a modest one-bedroom with mismatched furniture and a faint smell of burnt toast. he tried cooking, apparently, and failed.

you’re nervous, shifting in your sandals, wearing a cute olive green halter top, your tattoos peeking out from your sleeves.

he’s nervous too, stammering through small talk about his day until the tension’s too thick to ignore.

“so, uh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “you wanna…?” he doesn’t finish, but you know what he means.

you nod, heart racing. “yeah. let’s do it.”

it’s awkward at first, standing in his living room, until he pulls you onto the couch. you’re kissing, his hands shaky but eager, and you can feel how bad he wants this.

“fuck, i’ve dreamed about this,” he mutters against your lips, voice rough. you slide off the couch, kneeling between his legs, and he freezes, eyes wide.

“yo, you don’t have to—” he starts, but you cut him off, tugging at his jeans.

“shush, i want to.” it’s your first time doing this in person for sex work, and your nerves are buzzing, but there’s something about his mix of shy and desperate that makes you want to.

you pull him out, and he’s already hard, twitching in your hand.

“shit,” he breathes, head tipping back as you lean in, lips brushing the tip. you take him into your mouth, slow at first, testing it out, and he’s a mess instantly.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, you’re so good,” he groans, voice cracking. he’s pathetic in the best way...hands gripping the couch, hips jerking like he can’t control it.

you bob your head, tongue swirling, and he’s losing it, whining your name...your real name, not fantasygalaxy...over and over.

“please, don’t stop, fuck, i need you,” he begs when you pull back for a second, teasing. his desperation’s vulgar, raw, and it spurs you on.

“you’re so fucking hot, I can’t...please,” he gasps, practically sobbing as you take him deeper.

it doesn’t take long. he’s too wound up, too obsessed with you, and when you hollow your cheeks, he’s done for.

“i’m gonna—fuck, i’m cumming,” he chokes out, and then he does, hot and messy in your mouth. you swallow, wiping your lips as you pull away, and he’s still trembling, chest heaving.

you stand, expecting that to be it, but then he’s sliding off the couch, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“more,” he pleads, hands grabbing at your thighs.

“please, i’ll do anything, ju--just let me taste you.” namgyu's eyes are wild, needy, and you can’t say no.

you give in, letting him tug your jeans down, and soon he’s got his mouth on your center, clumsy but eager, moaning into your skin like he’s starved for it.

weeks pass, and things shift.

it’s not just sex anymore...though that happens plenty. you and namgyu start hanging out, mini dates sneaking into your routine. lunch runs where he insists on paying, late-night takeout at his place while you watch shitty movies, walks through the streets of hongdae where he shyly grabs your hand.

you still post on onlyfans, and he’s still pentagon.gyu, dropping cash on your content like the loyal subscriber he’s always been, but now it’s different.

he’s not just a fan anymore...he’s yours. you’re exclusive, a quiet agreement that settles in without much fuss. he doesn’t care that you keep working; he loves it, even, says it’s hot knowing you’re his outside the app.

one night, sprawled on his couch after a lazy hangout, he’s got his arm around you, scrolling through your latest post on his phone.

“you’re so fucking unreal,” he murmurs, kissing your temple. you laugh, nudging him.

“you’re biased.” he grins, all teeth.

“maybe but i’m the luckiest bastard alive.”

who knew, huh? your favorite subscriber, the shy guy who begged for you on his knees, turning into your boyfriend.

life’s funny.

masterlist

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑔𝑦𝑢'𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑟 (𝑦𝑜𝑢)

[skatazz]

relationship headcannons

thangyu x f!reader

what a polyamorous relationship with thanos and namgyu would be like

warnings: minors do not interact!! no smut but there are mentions of drug use and mentions of alcohol abuse. honestly, some of this is unhealthy.

you wake up each morning sandwiched between thanos, who’s sprawled out with painted nails resting on your hip, and namgyu, whose silky black hair tickles your shoulder as he sleeps.

thanos will sometimes writes raps about your trio, often performing them at club pentagon while you and namgyu casually watch from the VIP section.

nobody knows about the trio.

well, except for the three of you, semi and gyeong-su.

unfortunately even with the untraditional poly relationship, namgyu’s a bit misogynistic about you staying, “In a woman’s place,” whenever arguments arise.

you shut him down always with a sharp quip, and he begrudgingly respects your fire.

you mediate their clashes.

thanos’s carefree vibe often grates on namgyu’s need for control, but you smooth things over with a movie night or a shared blunt.

thanos paints your nails to match his, a ritual where you gossip about club drama while namgyu rolls his eyes but secretly loves the color on you.

namgyu insists on cooking, since he hates the meals you and thanos make.

however, you and thanos sneak into the kitchen to “taste-test” and you end up distracting namgyu with kisses.

you share a massive bed, but namgyu hogs the blankets, so you and thanos team up to steal them back, giggling like kids.

thanos’s fresh purple hair dye, after he re-dyes it, sometimes stains the pillows, and you tease him endlessly while namgyu grumbles about the mess but bought the dye anyway.

you’re the trio’s emotional anchor, knowing when thanos needs space to write or when namgyu’s stress from the club needs a long, quiet hug.

namgyu promotes special nights at club pentagon for the three of you, reserving a private booth where you dance together, his hands on your waist, thanos hyping the crowd.

thanos’s impulsive energy leads to late-night adventures.

for example are 3 a.m. taco runs.

namgyu complains but joins, secretly loving the nightlife.

always, you and thanos gang up to prank namgyu, like hiding his promoter badge, but namgyu gets revenge each time by doing things that slowly piss you and thanos off.

namgyu’s misogyny flares up in small ways.

for example when he expects you to be the one who only cleans everything, even if he or thanos made the mess.

you and thanos stage a “strike,” leaving dishes piled up until he apologizes.

thanos writes you love notes in his lyric book, which you find tucked under your pillow, while namgyu’s affection shows in quieter ways, like fixing your favorite jacket.

you navigate jealousy carefully.

namgyu gets possessive when thanos hogs your attention, so you make time for one-on-one dates to keep things balanced.

the three of you have a group chat filled with memes, thanos’s random rap snippets, and namgyu’s dry complaints about work, but it’s your safe space.

you decorate the apartment together, blending thanos’s vibrant art, namgyu’s sleek minimalist taste, and your mid-century cozy touches like fairy lights.

you and namgyu's long hair gets everywhere, and thanos jokes about making a wig from it.

namgyu and you love brushing each other's hair whenever the other is stressed.

thanos’s fans at the club sometimes flirt with you, and namgyu gets protective, but you handle it with a laugh, knowing you’re theirs.

you dream up a future together.

thanos wants a studio, namgyu eyes a bigger club, and you just want a bigger bed for your chaotic, loving trio.

you and thanos convince namgyu for matching tattoos, tiny symbols of your bond.

yours on your wrist, thanos’s on his ankle, namgyu’s on his shoulder.

namgyu’s late nights at the club mean you and thanos sometimes have quiet evenings, binge-watching reality TV while painting each other’s nails.

namgyu’s meticulous about the apartment’s budget, but you and thanos sneak in colorful decor or snacks, grinning when he sighs but lets it slide.

you host game nights, where thanos’s competitive streak shines, namgyu tries to bend the rules, and you win by distracting them with flirty banter.

thanos’s chaotic energy inspires you to try bold makeup looks, and namgyu, despite his grumbling, compliments you when you catch him staring.

you and namgyu have deep talks on the balcony, his guard down as he admits his insecurities, while thanos joins later, lightening the mood with a dumb joke.

you balance their egos.

thanos’s flair for attention and namgyu’s quiet pride by reminding them you’re a team, sealed with all group hugs that feels like home.

namgyu’s drug problem surfaces when club stress peaks, and you find him sneaking pills.

you and thanos stage a gentle intervention, sitting him down with tea and no judgment.

thanos got clean wayyy before namgyu was able to.

you notice namgyu’s hands shake when he’s trying to stay clean, so you hold them during movie nights, while thanos distracts him with ridiculous commentary.

thanos uses his rap gigs to fund namgyu’s therapy, slipping cash into his wallet without a word, and you both celebrate namgyu’s small sobriety milestones with homemade cake.

when you reach for alcohol during tough days, namgyu, despite his own struggle, swaps your glass for juice, saying he needs you clear-headed to keep him in check.

thanos keeps the apartment stocked with mocktails, turning your stress-drinking habit into a game of who can make the fanciest non-alcoholic drink, complete with goofy garnishes.

you and namgyu attend support group meetings together, your hand in his as he shares, while thanos waits outside with boba, ready to crack a joke when you’re done.

namgyu’s relapses hit hard, but you and thanos never leave his side, sleeping on the couch with him between you, promising you’ll face it as a trio.

you replace your old bar cart with a tea station, and namgyu starts brewing herbal blends.

when life gets heavy, you three pile into bed with no substances needed.

the only thing is tangled limbs, thanos’s bad rap lines, and namgyu’s soft humming, grounding you all in love.

masterlist

[skatazz]

nobody mingles

thangyu x f!reader

headcannons with how both men would be toward you during 'mingle'

round 1:

thanos grabs your wrist as the carousel spins, pulling you close, his grip steady but not bruising.

“you gotta stick with me, señorita, i got you,”

he murmurs, voice laced with bravado to mask his fear.

he scans the crowd, already scheming a group, yelling for namgyu to keep up.

namgyu hovers on your other side, shoulder brushing yours, tense and hyper-alert.

“we can’t let her get separated,”

he mutters to thanos, who nods sharply.

the dude's loyalty drives him.

in a strange way, namgyu wants to survive, but he'd rather die than leave you alone in this chaos.

when “10” is called, thanos takes charge, rallying namgyu and seven others into a group.

you’re wedged between them as they sprint, thanos shoving a rival aside to secure a room.

namgyu counts heads frantically, whispering,

“ten, we’re good, y/n, you’re safe.”

in the locked room, thanos rests a hand on your shoulder, eyeing the others for betrayal, while namgyu guards the door, ready to block any threat.

the gunfire outside makes you flinch; both step closer, their presence a fragile shield.

round 2:

the carousel’s spin throws you off balance, and namgyu catches your arm, steadying you.

“focus on me, y/n, don’t look at the lights,” he says, eyes soft but urgent, grounding you.

the man's protectiveness feels like a lifeline.

thanos, on your other side, curses under his breath, frustrated by the shrinking numbers not getting lower.

he grabs your hand, pulling you toward him and namgyu, shouting for one trusted ally to join.

that ally being se-mi of course.

“we’re not losing her,”

he growls, more to himself than anyone.

when “4” is announced, the four of you bolt to a room, thanos leading the charge, his arm around your waist to keep you from tripping.

namgyu trails close, double-checking the group size as the automatic door locks, his relief palpable.

inside, thanos paces, muttering about strategy, while namgyu stays by your side, asking quietly if you’re okay.

the distant screams unnerve you, and namgyu squeezes your hand in comfort.

round 3:

the moment the carousel slows, thanos and namgyu flank you instinctively, forming a protective triangle.

“this is us,” thanos says, voice firm, daring anyone to challenge it. namgyu nods, his usual hesitance gone, united with thanos for you.

when “3” is called, relief washes over you all.

it’s just the three of you.

you sprint together, thanos guiding you with a hand on your back, namgyu matching your pace to shield you from the chaotic crowd scrambling for rooms.

you reach a room, and namgyu slams the door shut, checking the lock twice before the game handlers lock it once the time stops.

inside, thanos pulls you into a quick hug, muttering, “we’re good, y/n, we’re good.”

namgyu watches, eyes soft, then joins, his arm around you both.

it is a rare moment of unity.

the gunfire outside feels distant as you huddle together, thanos joking to ease the tension, namgyu offering you his jacket when you shiver.

you politely decline.

you feel safe, caught between their warmth.

round 4:

the stakes feel heavier, and namgyu sticks closer, his hand brushing yours as the carousel spins.

thanos in a way is shaken, not realizing that he left gyeong-su to die outside.

namgyu could've cared less, but thanos losing a fan kinda set him back in reality.

so, its namgyu who's mainly watching over you.

“y/n, stop worrying,”

he says, voice steady despite his racing pulse too.

thanos, more aggressive now, scouts for allies, pulling you and namgyu along.

he negotiates with a small group, but his eyes keep flicking to you, ensuring you’re still there.

“nobody touches her,”

he warns the others, his tone deadly serious.

when “6” is called, you run with thanos leading, namgyu at your side, and three others trailing.

thanos practically throws you into a room, namgyu following to secure the door from anybody who might want to fight outside.

they both check the count, their relief mirrored as they confirm six.

in the room, thanos stands protectively in front of you, glaring at the others, while namgyu sits beside you, whispering reassurances.

the tension between them simmers, but they’re united in keeping you safe, their hands lingering near yours.

round 5: the last round.

the final round hits like a gut punch.

thanos and namgyu freeze when “2” is called, their eyes meeting in a rare moment of dread.

“y/n comes with me,”

thanos says, voice hard, but namgyu steps forward, shaking his head.

“no, she’s with me,”

namgyu snaps, his usual compliant behavior towards thanos now replaced by defiance.

they argue, voices rising, oblivious to the ticking clock.

thanos insists he’s stronger, namgyu counters he’s more reliable, neither noticing you’re being pulled away by the crowd.

it was semi's sharp instincts kicking in.

she grabs your arm, shouting, “y/n, this way!”

you hesitate, glancing at thanos and namgyu, but semi’s urgency wins.

you sprint with her to a room, locking it just in time.

thanos and namgyu, realizing you’re gone, panic but pair up out of necessity, rushing to another room.

inside, they argue fiercely, thanos blaming namgyu’s hesitation.

namgyu accuses thanos of arrogance.

both fear they’ve doomed you, guilt tearing them apart.

when the game ends, you emerge with semi, shaken but alive.

thanos and namgyu spot you, their faces flooding with relief. thanos pulls you into a crushing hug, muttering, “senorita you can't do that to us, i thought we lost you.”

namgyu joins, his hands trembling as he touches your shoulder, whispering apologies.

thanos thanks se-mi strangely, their egos bruised but gratitude genuine.

namgyu just stares a semi, wondering if she was now a threat to their relationship with you.

anyways,

later, they hover closer and vow silently to never let their rivalry risk you again.

masterlist

[skatazz]

affair

anakin skywalker x f!reader

headcannons on having an affair with anakin skywalker

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact!! anakin is not married to padme here!! reader is the married one. cheating! smut and details mentioned but its not the entire thing.

it didn't take long after you and anakin first met when he admits he couldn’t stop watching you in those senate halls.

you didn't push him away, his breath was warm against your skin as he confesses everything he'd want to do for you.

that started everything.

however, you had a husband.

that didn't stop the chosen one.

months go by and the both of you create subtle signals to communicate secretly.

a quick tuck of your hair behind your ear during a senate session means you’ll meet him later, anakin leaves a single nabooan white flower on your desk, a sign he’s waiting in coruscant’s lower levels in the city.

your getaways to naboo’s lake country are your sanctuary.

anakin secures hidden villas by the water, where you spend days swimming in crystal lakes and nights wrapped in each other’s arms under starlit skies.

anakin’s touch is intense, his hands mapping every inch of you like he’s memorizing you.

in naboo’s soft grass, he takes you with a hunger that leaves you breathless, his lips whispering your name against your skin as if it’s a prayer.

on coruscant, you steal moments in abandoned senate storage rooms.

he presses you against the wall, his kisses desperate, hands sliding under your senatorial robes, the thrill of being caught fueling the fire.

after one of his jedi mission that left him away from you for six months.. he gifted you a delicate necklace, a tiny silver star from naboo, hidden beneath your high collars.

you wear it always, a secret tether to him, your fingers brushing it when your husband’s cold presence suffocates you.

anakin’s force sensitivity makes your encounters electric.

he senses your mood, knowing when to be gentle or when to match your need with fierce passion.

the jedi knight loves when his fingers are laced with yours as he brings you to the edge.

you confess your fears one night on naboo, lying in bed with the moonlight spilling over you.

anakin listens, his arms tight around you, promising he’d tear the galaxy apart to keep you safe from your husband’s corruption.

maybe a jedi knight shouldn't have those thoughts, but this relationship broke all of the rules anyways.

the sex varies.

sometimes it is slow, with lingering touches and whispered confessions.

other times it is frantic, like in a coruscant speeder after a close call, where he takes you in the backseat, both of you trembling from adrenaline and desire.

anakin writes you coded messages, slipped into your diplomatic files, filled with poetic declarations of love.

you read them in your chambers, heart racing, knowing each word risks everything.

you share quiet moments too, like watching naboo’s twin moons rise, your head on his chest.

he talks of a future where you’re free, his voice soft but fierce with conviction, painting a life you both ache for.

in the villa’s candlelit baths, he washes your hair, his fingers gentle, kisses trailing along your shoulders.

these tender acts feel as intimate as your passionate nights, binding you closer.

your husband’s suspicions grow as the years go by, forcing you and anakin to be more cautious.

once, he nearly catches you in a senate balcony, but anakin’s quick thinking (using the force to distract him) saves you, though the close call leaves you both shaken.

anakin’s black robes, a symbol of his jedi mastery, become your obsession.

you love peeling them off him, revealing the man beneath.

anakin's scars and strength is yours to worship in the privacy of your escapes.

despite the danger, you can’t stop.

every touch, every stolen night, feels like defiance against your cage.

anakin’s love is your rebellion, and you’d burn it all down to keep him, even if the galaxy crumbles.

one night, in your private vacation home on naboo, tucked among blooming gardens, anakin leads you to the grand bed draped in silken sheets, his eyes dark with want.

he undresses you slowly, reverently, murmuring, “you’re perfection, my star.”

the naboo moonlight streams through the windows as he lays you down, his hands trembling with need yet gentle, praising, “no one else could ever have me like this, y/n, you’re my everything.”

anakin's kisses trail fire across your skin, each one a vow.

your bodies move together in a rhythm that’s both desperate and sacred, anakin’s voice husky as he gasps, “you feel like heaven, love, I’d give up everything just to stay here like this forever.” his words unravel you, the intensity building until you’re both lost in each other.

afterward, he holds you close, your bodies tangled in the warm afterglow, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back.

your husband never found out, even after you left him and secretly married anakin shortly afterwards.

masterlist

[skatazz]

I want him to cut me and l1ck my blood off.

[skatazz]

Can we go back to December 26th of 2024 and stay there forever

[skatazz]

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

[skatazz]

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ Yas; 22; role player/new writer. army since 2016; Jungkook biased, he's my love & holds a special spot in my heart. 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

⋆˚࿔ OT7 ⟬⟭⟭⟬⁷ - I love & respect each member; they all mean something to me, I love their solo work & them as a whole! (I don’t ship any of the members together) ⋆˚࿔

⏦ﾟ♡︎ I am into multiple fandoms, I have some listed in my role playing rules. ⏦ﾟ♡︎

── .✦ role playing rules, master list, about me

⋆⭒˚.⋆ no minors interacting with my account or posts, MDNI! 18+ please! I’m up for making mutuals! ⋆⭒˚.⋆

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ First one shot/fic - fanatsies fulfilled

all rights reserved to @skatazz no translations allowed. no reposting. not on here or any other platforms. all works belong to me.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

- photo credits belong to it’s editors, I only made the collaboration of them. -

[skatazz]

cr. namuspromised

[skatazz]

٩(๑>ᴗ<๑)۶〜♡

[skatazz]

[skatazz]

someone please recommend a long series of specifically Anakin Skywalker. I binged through one with the force by nightsisterskywalker on ao3, I have to wait for updates for it but i feel like I’ll seize up if i don’t read something else about him. I want a story where Anakin doesn’t turn to the dark side & it’s reader (oc) however x anakin.

I thought about maybe doing a rp but looking for a new rp partner in these trenches sounds like a lot, i’m barely able to keep up with my other rps so not a good idea. I also don’t have an oc I would like to use for such. i’m not good at rapid as i’d like but I’m good at keeping in touch & letting you know, i’m not leaving you hanging just writers block do be sucking.

[skatazz]

MAY THE FOURTH BE WITH YOU

[skatazz]

Angst fics can help people come to terms with their own grief, begin healing, or give people that good cry that they need.

Smut fics can help people affirm and accept their sexuality. It can help them explore their sexuality in a safe way. They can also just be fun, and having fun is a drastically undervalued way to improve your mental health.

Dark fics can help people face their fears or process their trauma. It can make them feel safer and more secure. It can help them find their courage.

Fluff fics can give people rest and respite and comfort. It can give them hope that soft places exist and that maybe there is one out there for them. It can bring up their mood, which, if they have depression, can be a life saver.

And every fic people write makes someone feel less alone.

Point being, just because a particular thing doesn’t serve you, doesn’t mean it lacks value.

This is not to say that we have to consume all fic uncritically. Of course not. It is just to say that entire “genres” aren’t trash or lacking value just because they don’t serve you.