#Cho sang woo x female reader

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ cola ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ professor!cho sang-woo x student!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this story, lolita!

˚ ༘♡ “you do understand that you are at risk of failing my course?”

˚ ༘♡ his words were severe, piercing through the tense air that had settled in his office. you stared at him, your gaze unfocused, the potency of his question sinking into your chest like a stone. seated in the small, uncomfortable chair across from his grand, imposing desk, you crossed one leg over the other, attempting to appear composed. your white leather handbag rested neatly against the chair’s legs, pristine and pale as a dove’s feather.

˚ ༘♡ it had been over a month since the two of you reached an agreement, a fragile truce cloaked in professionalism. the night you’d spent together was supposed to be a foolish mistake, forgotten and buried in the haze of poor judgment. neither of you could have known then that he would become your professor. he had laid down the rules with uncompromising clarity, no favoritism, no special treatment, no room for the past to bleed into the present.

˚ ༘♡ but now, here you were, falling behind in his financial accounting course. the missed quiz sat akin to a scar on your grade, its damage too significant to ignore. his syllabus had warned that quizzes could not be retaken under any circumstances, and yet you’d convinced yourself, naively, that he might display some leniency.

˚ ༘♡ “i am extremely sorry, professor,” you began, your voice soft, trembling slightly as you forced yourself to meet his dark eyes. “if i could get an extension…”

˚ ༘♡ “you read and signed the syllabus.” his interruption was calm but firm, a knife cutting through your plea. “i made myself clear, i don’t offer extensions.” he adjusted his glasses, the subtle motion punctuating the finality of his statement. his expression didn’t change, disappointment etched into every line of his angular face. “you’ve been a good student up to this point. i’d suggest you figure out what’s so detrimental to your focus and take care of it, if you wish to pass.”

˚ ༘♡ you swallowed hard. “yes, professor,” you managed, your voice barely audible, laced with a strained somberness. his reputation preceded him, after all, a man known for his rigorous standards and his unwillingness to tolerate mediocrity. you knew this going in, yet it didn’t lessen the weight of your failure or the anxiety clawing at your mind.

˚ ༘♡ his expression softened ever so slightly, the harsh lines of his face easing just enough to reveal a touch of humanity beneath the austere exterior. he let out an exasperated, frustrated sigh, the sound slicing through the silence. it was as if he was mulling over the cost of displaying leniency. “while i don’t typically offer extensions,” he began, his voice measured, “if you have a viable and genuine reason for your recent poor performance, i might consider granting you the opportunity for an extra credit research assignment.”

˚ ༘♡ your pulse quickened at the unexpected offer. professor cho was notorious for his unyielding policies. there were whispered stories from upperclassmen, students who had been hospitalized, grappling with extenuating circumstances, only to be met with his stony refusal to accommodate. yet here he was, extending a tree branch.

˚ ༘♡ you swallowed, steadying your voice. “you may have noticed my absence last week,” you began cautiously. “my cousin was deathly ill. we thought…” you hesitated, feeling the anguish of the words threaten to pull you under. “we thought she might not make it. i flew out to be with her. since her father passed, it’s been difficult for her, and i needed to ensure she would be okay.”

˚ ༘♡ the words hung in the air between you, solemn and grave. his brow lowered, and for the first time, there was something distinctly human in his expression, sympathy. “i’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his voice low and uncharacteristically gentle. “that must have been difficult. it was good of you to be there for her.”

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, biting back the emotion threatening to surface. speaking about it felt like peeling open a wound, and you knew if you lingered on it too long, the sadness would overwhelm you again. instead, you returned to the topic of your grade. “about the extra credit opportunity?”

˚ ༘♡ he straightened his posture, nodding as if grounding himself back into his usual composure. “i’ll email you the details tonight,” he said. there was something different in his tone now, something softer, almost resigned. he was still the same cold, stern professor, but the edges seemed less sharp, his demeanor less impenetrable. “while i encourage you to work hard to improve your grade, don’t push yourself to the point of exhaustion. it’s not worth your health.”

˚ ༘♡ “thank you, professor cho,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. there was an implicit closeness in the exchange, an understanding neither of you seemed willing to fully acknowledge. it stayed like the light fragrance of a fading perfume, delicate and undeniable.

˚ ༘♡ you stood, gathering your bag and clutching it tightly. “i need to study for my literature class, but i’ll see you in class tomorrow,” you said softly. his eyes fixed on you for longer than expected, and then he nodded.

˚ ༘♡ as you left, offering a quiet farewell, you felt the faintest surge of something indescribable descend upon you, something that shifted in the space between professor and student, something that felt too intimate to name.

˚ ༘♡ two weeks had come and gone, and true to your word, you’d submitted the assignment: a meticulously detailed research paper on fiscal dealings across the globe. the effort had paid off. your grade was inclining upward, slowly but surely, and on the surface, everything seemed normal. but there were little things. professor cho remained as strict and unemotional as ever, but you started noticing the subtleties, a fleeting glance your way during a lecture, the brief, almost imperceptible hesitation when his hand brushed yours while returning a graded paper.

˚ ༘♡ you told yourself it was nothing, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered.

˚ ༘♡ professor cho was notorious for his exacting demeanor, but his reputation among female students extended beyond academics. it was no secret that many found him attractive, with his handsome features and reserved, enigmatic demeanor. you couldn’t pretend you weren’t one of them, he had caught your eye that night at the bar for a reason. you found yourself wondering, late at night when your thoughts strayed, if the feeling was mutual. after all, he had approached you. was it something about your appearance that had lured him in, something that loomed in his thoughts to this day?

˚ ༘♡ but such thoughts were dangerous, unspoken truths that stayed locked in your chest. they had to be.

˚ ༘♡ the winter garden was breathtaking, blanketed ina stunning layer of snow and shimmering frost. the air was crisp, and the sun burned low in the cerulean sky, casting pale light through the bare branches. you presided over your notebook on a weathered bench, furiously scribbling notes. the beauty of the scenery was lost on you, though, your fingers were stiff and red from the cold, your thin off-the-shoulder sweater and linen pants doing nothing to ward off the icy air.

˚ ༘♡ you shivered as you turned the page, and it wasn’t until you heard the crunch of footsteps on the frozen ground that you looked up.

˚ ༘♡ there he was, professor cho sang-woo, standing just a few feet away. he was wrapped in a dark wool coat, the kind of warmth you could only envy in your current state. the sight of him made your breathing quicken, not because of the cold, but because of that familiar, quiet intensity in his eyes.

˚ ༘♡ “good afternoon,” he greeted, his tone even but unmistakably aware of your predicament. his eyes flicked to your frostbitten nose and hands before meeting yours again. “isn’t it a bit cold to be studying outside?”

˚ ༘♡ you laughed lightly, trying to conceal your embarrassment. “good afternoon, professor cho,” you replied. “i didn’t check the temperature before leaving, and now i’m deeply regretting it.”

˚ ༘♡ he studied you for a moment longer, his expression indistinct. “you should be more mindful,” he murmured, the severity in his words softened by something unexpected, worry.

˚ ༘♡ before you could reply, he shrugged off his overcoat, stepping forward to drape it over your shoulders. the fabric was heavy and luxurious, and you went still under the weight of both the gesture and the coat.

˚ ༘♡ “you’ll catch a cold like this,” he said simply, his tone quieter now, bordering on gentle.

˚ ༘♡ the gesture was so unexpected, that you found yourself at a loss for words for a minute. “thank you,” you managed, your voice barely audible. his coat carried the faded scent of cedar and winter air, and it wrapped around you like a shield against the biting chill.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t say anything else, just nodded slightly, his hands slipping back into his pockets as he took a step back. there was an indication of something in his expression, apprehension, maybe even tenderness, but it was gone before you could be sure.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t stay out here too long,” he said, his voice earnest but laced with a near imperceptible softness.

˚ ༘♡ “i’ll leave once i finish this set of notes…” you replied, your words fading as you motioned toward your notebook, “and your coat…”

˚ ༘♡ he interrupted swiftly, “you can return it whenever it’s convenient. i’ll be in my office.” his gaze intent on you for a vanishing instance before he nodded, “i’ll see you another day.” with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you without a chance to say goodbye.

˚ ༘♡ later that evening, your friends noticed the coat neatly placed over your chair. its rich wool and vintage style drew immediate attention and flattering compliments with a sliver of buried envy.

˚ ༘♡ “where’d you get such a nice coat?” one of them asked, interest noticeable in her bright eyes.

˚ ༘♡ “it belonged to my grandmother,” you lied effortlessly, your fingers brushing over the fabric as though it held some sentimental value. “it was passed down to me.”

˚ ༘♡ another friend, a male peer a couple of years older than you who had taken professor cho’s business class and failed it with bitter resentment, narrowed his eyes. “doesn’t professor cho have a coat like that?”

˚ ༘♡ his remark was one you found unwelcome and unnerving, yet no one seemed to pay him any mind. the conversation shifted quickly, much to your relief, as another friend launched into a tirade about her recent breakup. the focus was off you, and you exhaled silently, grateful for the distraction, but sorrowful for your close friend, her tragedy might have saved you the risk of suspicion.

˚ ༘♡ the next morning, when the campus was still quiet, you made your way to his office. you’d waited until you were confident he wouldn’t be there, unwilling to face him directly. the coat, carefully folded, was left on personally corner of his desk. a small note, written in your neat handwriting, sat on top, that read, “thank you for your kindness. it meant a lot.”

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated for a short while, staring at the note as if it might reveal too much. shaking your head, you placed it down and stepped back. the idea of thanking him in person felt too vulnerable, too revealing. you didn’t want to seem like some hopelessly infatuated girl, clinging to a singular polite act.

˚ ༘♡ with one last glance, you left his office, closing the door gently behind you. the feeling of the coat’s absence left you oddly empty, as though something intangible had been exchanged and lost.

˚ ༘♡ classes carried on as they always did, predictable in their routine but ridden with an undercurrent of tension you couldn’t quite shake. professor cho remained his ordinary self, strict and distant, but there were still those instances. quick eye contact that went on longer than it should have, the almost indistinguishable way his presence seemed to stretch when he was near you, as though tethered by something unsaid. you tried to dismiss it, to focus on your coursework, but the effort felt futile. those small gestures, though subtle, clawed at the foundation of your concentration.

˚ ༘♡ after a grueling day filled with back-to-back classes, your body ached with exhaustion, and all you wanted was a some peace and quiet. but as you packed your things to leave, your male friend, the same one who had failed professor cho’s course, caught up with you in the corridor. his persistence was palpable as he asked if he could speak to you in private. you tried to make an excuse, desperate to avoid the interaction, but he was relentless, and eventually, you agreed with a sigh.

˚ ༘♡ the conversation quickly turned to something you had been dreading. he asked you out, his attitude bordering on arrogance, as though he had already assumed your answer would be yes. you weren’t naive, you’d known for months that he was interested. he was a close friend of your best friend’s ex-boyfriend and had made it no secret, pestering them both to set the two of you up.

˚ ༘♡ but you couldn’t stand him. his cocky demeanor scraped on your nerves, and his delinquent mindset made you wary. still, you tried to let him down gently, choosing your words carefully, hoping to soften the blow.

˚ ༘♡ it didn’t work. his reaction was immediate and venomous, his face twisting in anger. “you’re such a stuck-up bitch,” he spat, his voice loud enough to turn a few heads in the hallway. the insult stung more than you’d expected, the words cutting into your already frayed composure.

˚ ༘♡ you stood motionless for a lasting minute, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill, but the day’s troubles was too much. without another word, you turned and stepped away, the sound of his muttered curses chasing after you. the hallway blurred around you as the first tears fell, hot and unwelcome.

˚ ༘♡ by the time you stepped outside, the sky had descended into night, a blanket of stars casting a faint glow over the campus. the moonlight illuminated your tear-streaked face, streaks of black mascara smudged against your skin. you felt exposed and disheveled, a physical manifestation of your unraveling emotions.

˚ ༘♡ your goal was simple, get to the bus station and back to your dormitory as quickly as possible. the cold night air bit at your cheeks, making you wish you’d brought a scarf. but as you reached into your bag for your phone, your stomach dropped. it wasn’t there.

˚ ༘♡ a terrible realization hit you all at once, you must have left your belongings behind in the linguistics lecture hall. a frustrated sigh escaped your lips, mingling with the frosty air. it was the last thing you wanted to deal with after everything, and with your instructor having left, the classroom was locked with your belongings inside.

˚ ༘♡ to your dismay, as you approached the bus stop, you saw him, professor cho sang-woo, of all people. he must have been leaving after a long evening of grading in his office. he was standing by the curb, pulling out a cigarette from a silver case with the same precision he seemed to handle everything. you didn’t move, debating whether to turn away and avoid the humiliation of being seen like this, but it was too late. he flicked his lighter, the small flame briefly illuminating his sharp features, and as he tucked it back into the pocket of his blazer, his gaze caught yours.

˚ ༘♡ he paused, taking a drag from his cigarette. the glow of its ember reflected faintly in the dark, cold night. “what happened? are you alright?” his voice, as steady as ever, carried a thread of concern that you hadn’t expected.

˚ ༘♡ you tried to gather some semblance of serenity, forcing a weak smile through your tears. “we keep running into each other,” you said lightly, though your voice struggled under the burden of your emotions.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t smile back. instead, he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your tear-streaked face and the faint smudges of mascara under your eyes. “you’ve been crying,” he said.

˚ ༘♡ you quickly wiped at your face with your sleeve, but he stopped you with a quiet, “don’t.” reaching into the pocket of his coat, he pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, one you recognized, he often used it to polish his glasses. he held it out to you, his actions strangely tender.

˚ ༘♡ “i won’t press for details,” he said, his voice low, “but seeing you out here like this… it’s troubling for me.” a faint cloud of smoke curled from his lips as he spoke.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, gripping the handkerchief in your hands. the fabric was soft, clean, and smelled faintly of cedar and the faint musk of his cologne. “it’s nothing,” you mumbled, dabbing at your face. “i just… i left my purse in class. it has my phone, my bus pass, everything. and then this guy, he’s supposed to be my friend, pulled me aside earlier and asked me out. after i said no, he got angry, started yelling. said some awful things.”

˚ ༘♡ you bit your lip, your voice quivering, but you managed to add his name, the words feeling loathsome on your tongue.

˚ ༘♡ professor cho’s jaw tightened slightly, his composure cracking just enough to show his displeasure. “what an asshole,” he muttered, taking the cigarette from his lips and exhaling a sharp plume of smoke. the unexpected vulgarity caught you off guard. you’d never heard him speak so bluntly, so unguarded. “i remember him. he was in my class last year. didn’t turn in a single assignment, barely showed up. he is not the sort of young man you’d want to associate with.”

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t help it, you laughed, a hushed, strained sound that carried genuine amusement. his lips curved slightly, pleased that he’d managed to lighten your mood, even if just for a second.

˚ ༘♡ he tilted his head, studying you carefully. “you said you left your bus pass in your purse?”

˚ ༘♡ you nodded.

˚ ༘♡ he considered this for a minute before saying, “if you’d like, i can drive you back to your dormitory. it’s not far, and I know the route. my car’s in the faculty lot.”

˚ ༘♡ you blinked at him, startled by the offer. “really? you’d do that?”

˚ ༘♡ “it’s nothing,” he said simply, extinguishing his cigarette against the edge of a trash can and tossing the burnt end away. “you shouldn’t have to wait out here alone like this.”

˚ ༘♡ “thank you,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze with gratitude.

˚ ༘♡ he nodded and motioned for you to follow. as you walked beside him toward the faculty parking lot, the night air seemed a little less cold, the distress of the evening a little lighter. there was something strangely comforting about his presence, a stability that made you feel, if only for this night, that everything may be okay.

˚ ༘♡ his car was sleek, an understated black sedan that gleamed faintly under the dim glow of the parking lot lights. it exuded the same quiet sophistication as its owner. he walked ahead, opening the passenger door for you without a word, his demeanor calm but his eyes flickering with a subdued concern. you slid into the seat, the soft leather cool against your skin, and he closed the door gently before circling around to the driver’s side.

˚ ༘♡ the drive back to your dormitory was steeped in silence. the hum of the engine filled the void, rhythmic and constant, a soothing backdrop to your turbulent thoughts. though you kept your eyes fixed on the road ahead, you could feel his gaze darting toward you every so often, quick glances meant to check on you without drawing attention. your tears had stopped, but your face still bore the evidence of them, smudged mascara, blotchy redness, a weariness you couldn’t quite hide.

˚ ༘♡ when he finally pulled into the dormitory parking lot, the rows of empty cars seemed ghostly in the faint moonlight. he parked smoothly, the stillness settling in the air as he turned off the engine. for a brief period of time, neither of you moved.

˚ ༘♡ he stepped out first, rounding the car to open your door once more. you followed, the cold night air pricking at your skin as you stood beside him. his posture was relaxed, but there was an unspoken tension between the two of you.

˚ ༘♡ “are you sure you’ll be alright?” he asked, his voice low and sincere, though his eyes searched yours for any trace of uncertainty.

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “i will. thank you, again. for everything.”

˚ ༘♡ your gaze locked with his then, and right then, the world around you seemed to fade. the misery of the evening, the lingering emotions, and the vulnerability you felt collided into a singular, reckless impulse. before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t pull away. instead, his hands rested lightly on your arms as he kissed you back, his movements slow and deliberate, almost tender. the passionate embrace stretched, suspended in time, filled with affectionate understanding and the quiet ruination of boundaries you had both carefully maintained until now.

˚ ༘♡ when you finally parted, you stared at each other in silence, breaths mingling in the frigid, icy air. the reality of what you’d just done lingered between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the line you had crossed, the agreement broken. and yet, there was no regret in his eyes, and you felt none in your chest.

˚ ༘♡ he cleared his throat, his voice measured but somewhat huskier than usual. “i’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

˚ ༘♡ a soft smile spread across your lips, gentle but laced with something deeper. “i will,” you replied.

˚ ༘♡ as he walked back to his car, you turned toward the dormitory entrance, your heart ached with something bittersweet. you knew everything had changed, even if neither of you would speak it in words.

a/n: part two of my professor cho sang-woo series!!! please let me know your thoughts or if you have any requests!! i plan to continue this series, but i am also considering doing a zombie apocalypse sang-woo fanfiction and maybe one where he is the reader’s boss!! 🤍

[sensationallysangwoo]

𝙹𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚢, 𝙹𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚢: 𝙲𝚑𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘 𝚡 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎!𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃

𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍, 𝙲𝚑𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 he 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚡𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚡 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

🤍𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃. 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸. 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚙 (𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝), 𝚙𝚎𝚝 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚡𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢/𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐🤍

🤍𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @trashk1tty , @torasgfreal , @dilfismz , @pulparindos , @reddead-salem . 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚘 @reddead-salem 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝/𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎’𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞! 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!🤍

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

You stand in front of your mirror in yours and Sang-woo’s shared bedroom. Tugging at your shirt collar, you are more than ready to get into your PJ’s for the night.

Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you’re unhappy with what you see. You tend to put yourself under a metaphorical microscope quite often. There’s a flaw here, a flaw here, a flaw there. You can barely look at yourself without nitpicking something. You often think to yourself, “Why did Sang-woo even choose me to be his girlfriend? There’s so many other beautiful girls out there in the world.”

It didn’t help when this afternoon you ran Sang-woo’s lunch to him at the office and you couldn’t help but notice his female coworkers, so beautiful and polished in their business attire. “He could’ve easily settled for one of them.” You thought to yourself. Seeing them makes your stomach drop like you’re on a rollercoaster. Your anxiety gets the best of you and you imagine them making him laugh, flirting with him and putting on a show to get his attention. The pit in your stomach grows stronger.

You curl up in bed and look at your phone for a little before you hear Sang-woo’s heavy footsteps trudging up the stairs. He walks in the bedroom, flashing his beautiful smile at you.

“Hello my love. I’ve missed you so much today. What’s my princess up to right now hm?” He leans down and gives you a sweet kiss on your lips. When he pulls away he notices you are not your usual chipper self. One thing about Sang-woo is that he can read you like a damn book.

He kneels down on the floor next to the bed so he is eye level with you. “Something is bothering you princess. I know it. Will you tell me please?” His tone is sweet and gentle with you. It always is.

He grabs your hand softly and interlocks your fingers with his as he studies your face, trying to so hard to predict your response.

“Sang-woo….” You start. You try to continue speaking but your throat chokes up and you feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes.

“I just….I feel so…this is embarrassing. I can’t say it.” You stammer. Sang-woo gently cups your face in his hand, stroking your soft cheek and wiping away your tears. “My darling…we have been together for 4 years…you can tell me anything and I will never ever judge you. You know I love you.”

“I feel ugly Sang-woo, okay? You’re so handsome and perfect and I know you can go get any other woman you want. Why are you even with me? I see those women you work with. They’re practically models.”

Sang-woo’s gaze softens a little and he tilts your chin up to look at him. “My dear, I love every part of you. Every single part of your body. I love your mind. Your soul. Your personality. I love you from head to toe, princess. We have spent 4 perfect years together and you’ve made me the happiest man on this planet. I want to spend forever with you, dear. No other woman has what you have and I promise you that.”

You smile softy and sniffle. You know Sang-woo loves you truly and he practically worships the ground you walk on. He’s obsessed with you. It blows his mind that you, a sexy, beautiful younger woman, even bothered to look in his direction 4 years ago.

Yes, your anxiety and intrusive thoughts get the best of you sometimes, but reassurance and extra love from him is all you need to bounce back.

“Thank you so much sweetheart. I feel better.”

“You better believe me darling. I’ll show you how much I love your body, okay? Do you allow me?”

“Of course.”

He crashes his lips onto yours, kissing you gently and softly. Slowly, he slips his tongue in your mouth and you feel shockwaves being sent to your pussy from just this alone.

His hands grab onto your waist and he pulls you onto his lap. You’re now deeply making out with him, sucking on his tongue and tangling your fingers in his hair. You feel his clothed bulge pressed up against your own heat and it drives you wild.

Sang-woo moves down to kiss your neck, gently biting and sucking as you let out small noises. Every noise you make just makes him harder and harder. He loves hearing you squeal and squeak and moan. He thinks it’s adorable.

He gently removes your shirt, then your bra, and he trails his hands up and down your body.

“Princess…look at yourself. Look at this body of yours. So, so beautiful. All mine, too.” He places soft, barely-there kisses down your chest and stomach. He tugs off your pants and gently rubs his thumb over your panties, causing you to slightly jump at the sudden pressure on your clit.

You gasp and grind into his touch. “Ah ah princess. Relax. Let me do all the work.” He slides your panties down, revealing your soaking pussy. Absolutely sopping wet from all the sensual touches given to you by your handsome boyfriend.

His warm, wet tongue flicks over your clit and your legs twitch involuntarily, eliciting a chuckle from him. He continues to gently lap at your clit while looking up at you, once again interlocking his hand with yours.

Your insides are on fire. Deep, deep lust fills your stomach and you just wanna fuck his face til you squirt. But alas, you need to lay back and relax as per Sang-woo’s request.

“You taste so sweet, darling. I love watching you squirm. What about if I do this?” He says before jamming his tongue directly into your hole. You squeal out a moan. He’s holding your thighs down as hard as he can while your hand found its way into his hair.

You look down at the beautiful sight of Sang-woo, plunging his tongue in and out of you, looking up at you, eyes full of lust and love. You feel your first orgasm approaching. Suddenly he slams 2 fingers into you as well, your walls clenching around them as his tongue works at your clit. Your stomach tightens and the head rush ensues. You’ve soaked his face with your juices.

You’re panting, gasping, letting out breathy moans as Sang-woo cleans you up with his tongue. He gets on top of you and deeply kisses you allowing you to taste yourself. “My beautiful beautiful princess…can I fuck you now hm? You want it? Let me make you feel good my love.”

“Yes please fuck me Sang-woo. Please. Show me how much you love me.”

He teasingly rubs his tip at your entrance, causing you to blush bright red and moan out in response. “I want it so bad please.” You practically beg him. He smiles coyly before slowly sliding himself into you. You immediately feel your eyes roll back at the feeling of fullness.

He slowly thrusts his hips, causing you to squeak and moan with each prod of your G-spot. He fits into you so perfectly that you wish he could just be inside you all the time.

He fucks you slowly, gently, teasingly, watching your every expression, soaking in every sound you’re making under him. He gently grabs your cheek with one of his large hands.

“Look at me. Look at me, my love. Look into my eyes while I fuck you.”

Your eyes are half open as he begins to pound you faster and harder. “My beautiful girl. Taking my dick like such a good good girl. You look like a goddess right now.”

He leans down and kisses you deeply as he fucks you. “Sang-woo” you moan into his mouth.

He slides his dick completely out of you, leaving your pussy on fire. “Who do you belong to baby? Are you mine? I want you to say it.”

“I’m yours Sang-woo. Just please…ahhh…please…I’m yours…just fuck fuck me some more please.” You whine pathetically.

He chuckles deeply before slamming his whole length into you all at once. You scream at the top of your lungs. You’re certain the neighbors can hear.

“Good girl…”

He’s pounding you harder than ever now. The sound of skin on skin and juices sloshing fills the room as well as your lewd screams and Sang-woo’s breathy moans.

The muscles in your stomach tighten. Your walls clench around him. Your vision goes white as you cum harder than you’ve ever cum before. Sang-woo’s cumming too. He throws his head back and moans out your name as he grips your hips so hard you know there will be bruises later. He fills you to the brim with his cum. The warmth seeps out of your hole, onto your thighs, and you feel way happier than you did an hour ago.

Sang-woo slides out of you and picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder like it’s nothing. “SANG-WOO!!” You half scream half laugh.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up, my love.”

Sang-woo runs a shower for you both. You get in with him and slowly wrap your arms around his torso. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close.

He presses his forehead against yours. “That was fucking amazing darling. Just promise me one thing yeah?”

“What?”

“Don’t you ever think you are not enough, my pretty girl. You saw how worked up you got me! Really through princess. You’re beautiful inside and out. I love you.” He kisses you deeply once more, and you relish in this feeling. Hot water against your skin, Sang-woo’s body pressed up against yours, post orgasm, being told you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“I love you too Sang-woo and I promise, l’ll love myself, too.”

“That’s my girl.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Well there ya’ll go!! I can’t get enough of Sang-woo and I fucking love writing for him. Now onto da next request!! Next one will be a shower fluff with Sang-woo also requested by @reddead-salem!! Sorry if he’s a little ooc, I just think in an AU where there’s no games and Sang-woo’s financially stable he’d be a lot happier ofc. Aaaannyways see ya in the next fic!!! ✌️🤍

[catchastarorten]

—More than anything.

Pairing: Cho Sang-woo x lover!fem!reader

Summary: You had supported him through everything, but when you fell sick, he couldn't save you because of debt, so he participated in the games. The blood, the violence, it was all worth it because it was all for you, but he still couldn’t save you, even after winning.

Warnings: angst, illness, death, grief/loss, mentions of violence, guilt/sacrifice, emotional distress, Sang-woo won the games in this au, english isn't my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.9k

The first time you met Sang-woo, it was in the bustling hallways of Seoul National University, your books pressed against your chest as he nearly toppled over you in his haste. Apologies poured out of him, flustered but composed, but it was the soft smile that followed that made you pause. You didn’t know it then, but that clumsy encounter would change both of your lives forever.

From that moment, he had become everything to you. And soon enough, you realized you were everything to him too. Sang-woo was the kind of man who always seemed in control of himself. But with you, that cool demeanor softened. He would laugh more, touch your hand absentmindedly, watch you as if you were the only thing in the world worth looking at.

You supported each other through the tough years at university. His mind was brilliant—quick, sharp, and endlessly determined. It wasn’t hard to see why he was the pride of his family, the hope of his mother. He was going to do great things, you always believed that, and you reminded him every chance you got.

Sang-woo always spoke of a future where he’d be successful, where his mother would never have to work a day in her life again. And somewhere in that future—he said with a tentative smile—was you.

Years passed, and the challenges of adulthood crept in. Sang-woo’s ambitions, once so pure and noble, became entangled in desperation as he fell into debt. It started small—a few bad investments, a loan here and there, promises that he’d make it all back soon. But soon, the debts piled into something worse, a mess that loomed over both of your lives.

He had so much promise, so much potential, and you wanted to see him succeed. So when he started to falter—when the world wasn’t as kind, when the debts began to gather up, and his once-unshakable confidence began to fracture—you did what you thought any partner would do. You helped him.

You saw the way the guilt ate away at him. He tried to hide it, but you knew him too well.

“I’ll pay off this part for now,” you’d told him gently, holding the bank statement in your hand. He had stared at you, his expression tight, his hands gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white.

“No,” he had said firmly. “You’ve done enough. I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.”

But you didn’t care about that. You knew he felt ashamed, that his pride was bleeding, but you loved him too much to let him drown. “Sang-woo,” you whispered, reaching out to place your hand over his. “I’m doing this because I want to. Because I believe in you.”

He looked at you like you were his lifeline, the only light in his darkening world. He kissed your hand and said nothing more, but no matter how much you reassured him, the guilt lingered. He began to withdraw, the weight of his mistakes crushed him.

Then, as if the universe wasn’t cruel enough, you fell ill. It started with fatigue and a persistent ache in your chest. You brushed it off at first, telling yourself that it was just stress, but when the symptoms worsened, you finally went to the hospital.

The diagnosis was a gut punch. The doctors spoke in clinical terms, but all Sang-woo heard at the moment was that it was serious. You needed treatment, the treatment was possible, but expensive.

The hospital bills mounted quickly. You had always lived sparingly, but this was different. The treatment you needed was far beyond what either of you could afford, especially with Sang-woo already drowning in debt. You had tried to remain strong, tried to reassure him even when your body weakened and the days became harder to endure.

But Sang-woo wasn’t strong. At least not in the way you were. He didn't want to put up the pretense of having a "perfect" reputation anymore, he just wanted you.

One night, as you lay in your hospital bed, pale and shivering despite the blankets covering you, he dropped to his knees beside you. He gripped your hand so tightly it hurt, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking.

“I’ll get the money,” he said, his voice trembling with determination. “I’ll find a way. I promise.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time, you saw the man you loved falling apart. His face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot, guilt and desperation consuming him.

“Sang-woo,” you whispered, your heart breaking for him. For both of you. “I’ll be okay... don’t do anything reckless.”

But he shook his head, his jaw set in that stubborn way you’d come to know so well. He pressed his lips to your forehead, a lingering, desperate kiss.

“I’ll come back,” he said. “With the money. Just hold on for me.”

You wanted to believe him, but as you watched him walk away, a part of you knew that he was heading down a dangerous path.

At first, you tried to think light. You thought he had simply left to clear his head. Maybe he was meeting someone to talk about loans or some other last-ditch effort to save you. But then the days turned into weeks, and Sang-woo didn’t return.

You tried calling him, but his phone went unanswered. You asked the nurses, his mother, even some of his old university friends, but no one had seen him. You didn’t know whether to be angry, scared, or heartbroken. All you knew was that he wasn’t here, and you were running out of time.

The nurses came and went, offering kind smiles and gentle reassurances, but it wasn’t enough. What you needed—what you wanted—was him, by your side.

You missed his voice, his laugh, the way he’d hold your hand and promise you that everything would be okay. You told yourself that he was out there fighting for you, but as the days stretched on, doubt began to creep in.

In your quieter moments, you wondered if he’d given up on you. If the burden had become too much and he just left without a trace. But deep down, you knew Sang-woo. You knew how much he loved you, how determined he could be. He’d find a way back to you. He had to.

In your final days, you thought about him often. You tried to convince yourself that he had a plan, that he would come rushing through the hospital doors at any moment with that look on his face, telling you everything was going to be okay, that you could heal properly now. But he didn’t.

Instead, you were left with an empty chair by your bedside, your heart aching with the absence of the man you loved more than anything in the world.

On the last night, you couldn’t fight the tears anymore. You whispered into the quiet room—“I just wish you were here.” Your voice cracked, and you closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion finally take over. You dreamed of him one last time—of the way he smiled when you first met, of his hand in yours, of the warmth that had once filled your life.

What you didn’t know—what you couldn’t know—was what Sang-woo was enduring.

He had entered the games through a salesman with a suitcase and a card with a number on the back. The games were a deadly competition where the stakes were higher than anything he’d ever faced. Life and death were decided in brutal, messed up versions of childhood games.

At first, he told himself he was doing it for you, for the money that could save your life. But as the games progressed, as blood stained his hands and the faces of those he’d sacrificed haunted his dreams, the lines began to blur.

How much of himself was he willing to lose to save you?

Every decision, every betrayal he made, weighed on him. He thought of you constantly, your smile a light in the darkness. When he felt the weight of his actions crushing him, he clung to the hope that he could still save you. That he could win, come back to you, and make everything right, no matter how exhausted he was, no matter how much pain he had to endure, it was all for you. Because how could he call himself a man—your man—if he couldn't even keep you by his side? If he couldn't even get the money to save you and have you in his arms again, healthy and full of life?

When Sang-woo finally emerged from the games, clutching the blood money that was counted from each of the lifeless bodies of the other players, he felt hollow. His actions, the lives he’d taken, the people he’d betrayed—all of it threatened to suffocate him. But he pushed it aside. None of it mattered now. All that mattered was you.

He rushed to the hospital, his heart pounding in his chest. He imagined the look on your face when he walked through the door, how you’d smile and tell him that he’d always been your hero. And for the first time since the games, he smiled. He smiled.

But when he reached your room, he froze, and everything inside him seemed to shatter.

You were still, too still. Your chest didn't rise or fall, your lips were pale, and your eyes—those eyes he had loved so much—were closed forever.

The nurse had pity in her eyes as she approached him. "I'm sorry... she passed away a few hours prior. We... we tried calling you, but..."

“No,” he choked out, he staggered to your bedside, falling to his knees onto the mattress of the bed, his hands reaching for you. “No, no, no… please, no…”

He pulled you into his arms, cradling your lifeless body as tears streamed down his face. “Wake up,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please, wake up. I have the money now. I did it. I got it for you. You can get better now. Please, just… open your eyes.”

But you didn't. You couldn't.

“I got the money,” he whispered, tears falling from his eyes. “I have it. We can pay for your treatment now. You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay…”

Sang-woo's hand trembled as he cupped your face. Your skin was cold to the touch, a stark contrast to the warmth he remembered. He pressed his forehead to yours, the card that contained all the prize money laid forgotten on the floor, a cruel reminder of what he had to sacrifice to save you—of the blood, the death, and the lives he had destroyed in those games. He had told himself it was all for you, that he could endure anything if it meant seeing you smile again. But now, as he held your cold body in his arms, he realized it had all been for nothing.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve been here. I should’ve stayed with you. I thought… I thought I could save you.”

He had done everything he could to save you, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. And now, he was left with nothing, because you had been his everything.

[siasthoughts]

⍣ ೋ MASTER OF NONE.

for some reason i can't link it in the title so here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62365396/chapters/159579388

cho sangwoo x fem!reader

tags: angsty sex . porn with plot . toxic romance .

inspo

+ this is my first ever ao3 fic and i'm lit js balling it so don't expect much 💔 i'm PLANNING (not set in stone) it to be long with plot like an actual novel 😭😭

PREVIEW:

you were both in this just for the physical release, but you expected him to at least have a bit of decency and leave with a goodbye. but no, of course not. he's a man knee-deep in debt after all, what were you expecting?

you unexpectedly meet him at a motel after 5 months, leading you back into this deep loop of endless cigarettes, wine, arguements and sex as apologies.

current chaps: 1/?

[delirivmtr3mens]

Can someone tell me why we haven't gotten millions of Sangwoo x reader/Oc stories yet when he's the hottest and smartest character in Squid Game?

I'm writing to you, my squid game-loving friends, and especially to you, slasher villain-loving friends, please start creating Sangwoo stories 🥲🖤

He's missing out on such a tremendous character (it's actually easier to find stories about a character from the 60's than about him)

By the way, if you have a story about him for recommendation, I'll gladly take it!

[meadowfics]

my wip

my works in progress

squid game

take the weight off his shoulders - kang dae ho x female!reader

flower garden - cho hyun ju x f!reader 18+

you are never alone in this world - kang dae ho x reader

anything for you, i would do - kang sae byeok x f!reader

boredom got a new bestfriend - kang dae ho x pregnant!reader

stand by me - kang no eul x f!reader

discrimination - kang sae byeok x f!reader

first date - cho sang woo x f!reader

delicious meal - kang sae-byeok x smallbusinessowner!reader

frugal - kang sae-byeok x smallbusinessowner!reader

delivery - hwang jun-ho x pregnant!reader

an exchange - kang dae-ho x f!reader 18+

too far to call - se-mi x f!reader

cryptic - kang dae ho x f!reader

double the love - thanos x namgyu x f!reader 18+

lockscreen - nam-gyu x f!reader

abandonment issues - kang sae-byeok x f!reader

being cared for - kang sae byeok x f!reader

both of us or none of us - kang dae-ho x f!reader

movie setting - thanos x exactress!reader

injury and kisses - se-mi x f!volleyball!reader

request if you want me to add more / write for you :) I do OC as well

[parkvcrs]

Guardian Angel

SUMMARY: s/n y/n accidentally catches the eye of one of the guards.

PAIRING: guard! x player!fem!reader.

WARNING(S): death, blood, that sort of stuff.

NOTES: i guess minor spoilers for the third episode of squid game if you haven’t seen it.

Player 018 fiddled with the end of her uniform as she grabbed her breakfast from one of the guards, “Thank you.” She nodded her head towards him. A circle is drawn on his mask. It stands for being below the triangle and the square. This is a simple rule. However, the player seemed to be genuine in showing her appreciation of the meal — as if feeding her is not their responsibility, but a generous gesture.

The guard, in particular, was well-costumed to the rules that he must obey. He was not a manager nor a soldier, but a worker. A worker who is the "civilian" staff in the sense that they are given menial tasks — body disposal, preparing games, cleaning maintenance, and food distribution. Their role in the Games does not require them to speak or possess weapons. But most importantly:

1. ALWAYS WEAR YOUR MASK OUTSIDE OF YOUR ROOM

2. DO NOT CONVERSE WITHOUT PERMISSION

3. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR ROOM WITHOUT PERMISSION

He knew he wasn’t supposed to converse on his jurisdiction, but found himself compelled to respond to Player 018. He opened his mouth to engage in a conversation, but stopped himself, reminding himself of the rules and what would happen if he disobeyed. “S/n Y/n!” A voice called for the young woman, prompting her to tense. Turning around, the contestant retreated to her group with her breakfast in hand.

As the guard continued passing out the meal to the remaining players, he couldn’t help but glance occasionally in Player 018’s, or rather, S/n’s, general direction. Before the two knew it, it was time for the second game.

All players were herded to a spacious room that was made up to mimic a giant-sized playground, with a towering jungle jim and an adult-sized slide and so on. Despite the circumstances, Player 018 couldn’t help but get distracted by the scenery until the intercom rang loudly throughout the room: “Players, welcome to the second game. We will begin shortly.” At this, she frowned — reminding herself that she could spare no expense. She could not let herself daydream at a time like this, for it could jeopardize her chances of advancing to the next round. With a small sigh, she tilted her head back as she listened carefully to the instructions. “Players, before the game begins, choose one of the four available shapes you see on the wall. Once you’ve chosen your shape, please stand in front of it. Choose a shape and stand in front of it immediately.”

At this, S/n’s eyebrows furrowed together with subtle confusion as she tried her best to look past the shoulders of everyone in front of her. She looked at her options: a circle, a triangle, a star, and an umbrella. Player 018 stood there for a moment whilst trying to make up her mind for making her final decision before the intercom prompted that everyone should move faster, “Choose a shape and stand in front of it immediately.” It repeated.

Feeling as if she was being rushed, Player 018 began to pace in front of the various lines but ultimately decided to pick the star. Even though she was compelled to pick the umbrella from the beginning, her gut authorized against it.

“The time to select your shape has ended. I will now explain the rules of the next game. All players, please take one case each from the table at the front of your line.” With that, the lines started to move as guards handed out small tins. Eventually, it got to S/n’s turn and she was met face-to-face with another guard with a circle pattern imprinted onto his mask. Unbeknownst to her, it was the same guard from this morning. Player 018’s gaze shifted between the tin and the guard’s mask. “All players, please take one case each from the table at the front of your line.” The voice recited.

Realizing that she was holding up the line, she let out an embarrassed chuckle as she went to reach out for her tin but accidentally grazed over the guard’s hand. “Oh, my apologies…” She whispered before nodding her head to show her gratitude once more. “Thank you.” She turned her heel to find a place to sit down. The guard, however, temporarily stopped his duties as he recalled how small and gentle her hands were compared to his.

“Please take a moment to open the case and check the contents.” The voice continued and S/n, sitting against the slide, did as she was told and opened the lid to reveal a dalgona with a pattern of a star engraved onto it. “The second game is sugar honeycombs. The shape you have chosen is the shape you must remove from the honeycomb,” S/n’s heard felt as if it was going to burst as this was revealed to her, but she tried to calm herself with the fact that it could have been worse. “The time limit is ten minutes. You will pass if you trim out the shape without breaking or cracking within the time limit. With that, let the game begin.”

Hesitantly, Player 018 picked up the needle and looked back at the wafer in front of her. “You have got to be joking…” She let out a shaky sigh and carefully began to scrap it. It wasn’t long before a shot erupted in the once quiet area. S/n jumped at the sudden noise but made sure to not have her needle close to the wafer as this happened. She looked up for a moment and watched as blood trailed down the slide immediately after the first eliminated player is executed. She did not move for a few seconds as she watched numerous people get eliminated after this death since they accidentally destroyed their dalgona. 

After a few seconds, S/n slowly looked back down at the wafer and resumed her work but maintained wary of her surroundings. She was so engrossed in carving out the perfect shape that she did not notice the sound of the sand crunching under the boots of the guard approaching. His silhouette fell over her small figure as he unintentionally kicked up sand onto her. Player 018 bit the inside of her cheek, agitated as this happened before wiping the sand off of her. “I’m not finished yet.” She mumbled under her breath. She side-eyed the boots beside her leg and watched as they did not leave when she mentioned this. Frowning, S/n halted and showed the guard her almost finished carved star.

Looking up, she found it was not one of the men with the triangle staring down at her but rather a circle. She looked around at the other guard’s mask and found the individual in front of her was the odd man out. “I don’t think you should be here,” she said vaguely. “You’ll get into trouble, won’t you?” She tilted her head to the side and then began to finish up carving out her piece.

The guard, however, as to not draw suspicion, remained quiet and simply stared down at the participant. She shifted in her spot, showing obvious signs of discomfort. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I cannot focus if you are hovering over my shoulder…” S/n tried to remain as polite as possible. She could hear a slight scoff emit from the guard as he crouched down beside her before placing a lighter near her leg. Player 018 opened her mouth to reply but the guard gently grabbed her arm to get her attention as he raised his index finger to his mask to gesture to her to be quiet. She nodded, understanding but found herself looking at the lighter as he scurried away.

‘Did he confiscate this from another player? Did he bring it here? How did the others not find this?’ She chewed on her lip as she picked up the lighter, moving under the slide so she won’t be easily spotted by the other competitors or the guards. She huffed as she heated the needle which gave her an easy advantage in the game. She smirked at the sight of how easily she cut through the treat.

Within a few minutes, S/n Y/n was able to successfully cut through the shape of the star. Looking up, she quickly discarded the lighter into her pants as she went up to the nearest guard and showed him that she completed the challenge.

“Player 018, pass.” The intercom rang out which caused her to sigh in contempt and then was directed outside of the room to regroup in the main area.

Much to her credit, she did acknowledge that she wouldn’t have passed if it wasn’t for the worker — she fiddled with the lighter in her pocket as she walked down the corridor, frowning. S/n knew that she had to return it to him. She had to thank him in some sort of way for she was in his debt.

The very thought of the sworn enemy being her protector or knight in shining armor made Player 018 giggle at the irony which prompted the guard in front of her to look over his shoulder, as to stare at her inquisitively. “Oh… my apologies. My head was in the clouds.” She partially lied and almost immediately returned to her thoughts.

‘Looks like I have a little guardian angel on my side…’

//////

author’s note: ah! i am sorry if this came off as corny, cliché, or anticlimactic in any way! i just wanted to focus on the tension between you, the player, and the guard— plus, i am nooooo good when it comes to writing ends for stuff. 0-o

[lokischocolatefountain]

Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

Everyone Loves Contractors (abandoned)

Chapter 1: If Your Daughter Needs a Void

General Acacius Masterlist

Din Djarin

Din x Mechanic!Reader

Guess , Daddy Issues

_____

Cho Sang-Woo

My Grumpy Valentine (New oneshot)

Sangwoo was a man who stuck to traditions. He never let you pay for dates, held doors open for you, offered his jacket when you were cold and showed his love with little gifts. As lovely as it is to receive, you want more than enough to give him something. But, your Grumpy Valentine won’t go down without a fight.

Happily Divorced

You and Cho Sang-woo have been going through life one milestone at a time. Go to university- check, graduate- check, get a job- check, get married- check, stay married- well, that was more complicated. But, if you can’t be happily married, the two of you are determined to be Happily Divorced.

Chapter 1: How to Enjoy a Party

Chapter 2: How to Make Coffee

Chapter 3: How to Ruin a Tie

Chapter 4: How to Make a Sacrifice

Chapter 5

Trophy (oneshot)

Drabble based on these characters here

Who said being a trophy wife was easy? I did. Several times. All a trophy wife had to do was look pretty, go shopping, and spread her legs, right? Being Cho Sang-Woo's trophy wife was all that and more.

Fic teaser

Berlin

Berlin’s Good Bitch

[ayoitspatricia]

Being the younger sister of Han Mi-nyeo would include :

Joining the games together

Cause sisters support eachother

You came back the second time much to your sisters dismay

Not being as crazy as her but still sharing similarities

Her making it her priority to protect you

Threatening anyone who tries to attack you

Getting given her extra food if you’re still hungry

Her somehow persuading Deok-su to not go near you

Instead he protected you during the riot that happened after lights out

Both of you joining Gi-hun’s team for Tug of war

Well more like Mi-nyeo dragging you with her

You scolding her when she is too rude

Her comforting you after all the near death experiences

Your new team asking if you are actually related to her

It gets you everytime

Sang-woo telling you to control your sister

But you’re just like ????

“How am i supposed to do that you di-“

Your sister always making sure someone is keeping an eye on you at night

Because she’s not just going to order you not to sleep is she?

You eventually dying on the glass bridge whilst trying to go after your sister when she falls

[bruhstories]

forsaken

summary: in the aftermath of crossing the glass bridge, you and sang-woo comfort each other for the last time.

pairing: cho sang-woo x fem!reader

warning & content: age gap, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, stabbing, death, fem bodied reader

word count: 1.4 k

a/n: i'm back with a ficlet cause oh boy, i haven't written in forever. unedited because we die like men.

You were in debt. A ton of debt. Studying pharmacy at Korea University, as well as living in Seoul took a toll on your wallet, and your father couldn't afford to send you money, which is how you found yourself in this sticky situation. Your mother was bedridden, and you decided to play that twisted game and use the hefty prize to pay for your tuition and your mother's medical bills.

But never in your life have you thought the game would end up in slaughtering hundreds of innocent people. The price was not only the money, but also your life.

You allied yourself with a few people for the tug of war game, people who were deemed as weak, yet through some miracle, you won and got to live for another day, thanks to player 001 and player 218. Cho Sang-woo. The man could very well be your father, almost two decades older than you, which is why you thought he was so keen on protecting you. But what started as an innocent friendship quickly turned into something more. A gentle touch here, a lustful look there, and you found yourself infatuated with the man. He told you about his mother, you told him about yours. He told you about his failures, you comforted him and offered support. After tug of war, something in you two clicked. After marbles, you realised how much you wanted him. After the glass bridge, you knew you needed to get out of there alive, with Sang-woo by your side.

With four people left, the masked guards prepared a feast for the finalists, and a set of clean clothes for you to wear.

Your hand felt the smooth silk of the shirt as you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. One more game, you thought, and you'd finally make it out alive. One more game, and you could carry on with your life. One more game, and you could be with him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were inside." Sang-woo quickly covered his eyes and you couldn't help but smile at his politeness.

"It's alright, I don't mind if you get dressed with me." You assured him. "Besides, I wouldn't mind the company."

He half-nods, placing his set of clothes on the bathroom counter. He had so much pain hidden behind his dark eyes, but there was something more to that pain, something you couldn't yet figure out. He splashed cold water on his face, freshening himself up before unzipping his turquoise hoodie.

"What do you think the next game is?" You remove your t-shirt with your back turned to him.

"I honestly have no idea." Sang-woo can't help the way his eyes almost immediately fell on your figure.

"Like what you see?" You teased, a part of you still trying to lighten up the mood, but knowing very well that there's a big chance you might not survive.

"My apologies." He snaped his head to the other side, eyes searching for your reflection in the mirror.

"That's not what I asked." You glanced at his reflection, desire written all over your face. "Look, this final game... I don't know what will happen, but if I die-"

"You won't."

"If I die, I don't want to have any regrets." You turn around, malnourished fingers dragging across his shoulders, down to his arms, intertwining with his own fingers. "Make love to me, Sang-woo, please." Your voice needy and soft, and he can't resist it. You're his competition and his prize. His friend and his enemy. His angel and his demon — and out of all his demons, you're the worst.

He picks you up with ease, propping you in the cold bathroom counter, all of your clothes scattered on the floor. Your hands tug at his dark locks, his teeth sink into your skin, your legs wrap around his waist, his calloused fingertips dig into the plush of your thighs. At this point, you don't even care if the guards hear your moans, which grow louder with every touch and every kiss. And if one of you dies, then so be it. In the heat of the moment, you come up with an idea.

"S-Sang-woo, wait!" You cup his face into your small palms, eyes beaming with hope. "I got it!"

"What? What happened?" The look of confusion mixed with arousal has you even more excited.

"I know how we can both win. We play the game, eliminate Gi-hun and Sae-byeok, then vote to end the game. I don't care about the money, I don't care about winning, I only want to be with you."

He's silent, lips pursed, pondering your idea. What you said makes sense, it's the third clause of the game, and if only the two of you are left, and both decide to end the game, then they should end it.

"Alright, let's do it." He decides and you throw your arms around his shoulders.

"Thank you! Oh, Sang-woo, thank you!" You press your lips onto his, melting all the worries away with one kiss. The bit of hope you have in you makes you want this more, especially since there's absolutely no guarantee that you can eliminate the other two players.

Whether it was your words that gave him courage, or the idea that he will get to be with you, something in Sang-woo changed in a split second. He spreads your legs with his elbows, cock hard and throbbing before pulling you closer to him. You can feel the glistening tip press onto your soaking cunt, anticipation filling your heart before he painstakingly slowly pushes into you. You were no virgin, but still he is much bigger than any man you had before, only making you more aroused.

"Ah, fuck!" You arch your back, pressing it onto the mirror as he bottoms out with one swift thrust.

"Shit, you're so tight." He practically praises you, and you grip his shoulders, bracing yourself for what's about to come. You know you have to be quick, but you hope that after the final game, you two will have all the time in the world.

Your moans and whimpers echo in the bathroom as his thrusts become more brutal, pace quickening. You wish you could revel in this, kiss his neck, worship his body, but you can't, so you settle for bucking your hips against his for more pressure and friction.

"You're mine, Sang-woo, only mine!" You bury your face between his neck and his shoulder.

Behind your back, he looks in the mirror, right hand creeping towards the pile of formal clothes he brought with him.

"I'm yours." He repeats after you, his other hand bruising your hip. The pain makes you jolt up and he retracts his right arm from the pile of neatly folded clothes, snaking it between your arm and pulling you closer to him.

"I'll give you everything you need! Fuck, Sang-woo, I'll give you a family, a child!" You moan in his ear and you can feel his body tense at your words.

"Promise?" He pants, your cunt clenching around his cock.

"Yes, I promise!"

"Damn it, Y/N, I think I'm gonna-"

"Come in me, fill me up! Oh, god!"

The sinful, squelching sounds combined with your whimpers and his moans echoing in the bathroom slowly come to an end when you feel the hot liquid shooting up inside you, quickly replaced by a scorching hot pain in your abdomen. The smile on your lips fades away when you look down and see blood. A sharp shard of glass. And he twists it, making you cry out.

"I'm sorry," He says, removing the shard and stabbing you again with it, "but we both know there can only be one winner."

"H-help! Help me!"

"It's for the best." Sang-woo covers your mouth with his palm and you can taste your own blood on his fingers. "I can't have you turning against me in the final game."

Life slowly leaves your body with every ounce of blood oozing out of you, and you try to push him away, in vain. While you become weaker, he grows stronger.

"B-bastard..." You whisper, accepting your fate.

"I promise I'll pay for your mother's bills."

"Fuck y-you, Cho Sang-woo." You spit at him with the last bit of force you have left. "See you on t-the other side, w-when you lose..." You warn him with your dying breath.

And you were right. He lost everything.

[umbrellafics]

Y’all ever notice how to win Squid Game you must pass six games. It’s never really specified that only one person can win.

*SQUID GAME SPOILERS AHEAD*

So like what if Sae-Byeok didn’t die and there’s four players remaining (Gi-Hun, Sang-Woo, Sae-Byeok, and the Reader) so they split into two groups of two (groups are split however you want) and whatever team wins gets the money

That way it’s a kinda happy ending (or not you get to decide) where there’s two winners instead of one

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ you can be the boss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ boss!cho sang-woo x employee!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ you had started working at joy investments a few months ago, a job you knew from the beginning you weren’t particularly suited for. numbers, spreadsheets, and statistical analysis felt foreign to you, but the evening hours worked well enough while you attended university. the pay was sufficient, and the promise of experience at such a reputable firm was worth the initial discomfort.

˚ ༘♡ getting hired had been a grueling process. three separate visits. a preliminary interview, where they assessed your general competence, followed by a secondary round that tested your ability to handle pressure. the final round had been the most nerve-wracking, a panel interview that felt as though they were peeling back layers of your personality, searching for weaknesses. when you were finally offered the position of secretary in the business investment sector, you accepted without hesitation. the role was simple, answer phones, manage the endless cascade of paperwork, coordinate schedules, and ensure the office ran like a well-oiled machine. simple, but draining.

˚ ༘♡ your department was overseen by cho sang-woo, an investment banker with a reputation that preceded him. you met him on your first day. he was tall, with sharp features softened only by the polished glasses perched on his nose. his ironed grey suit fit him perfectly, a testament to his meticulous nature. he was polite but distant, his words clipped as he showed you to your workspace. his focus shifted elsewhere as quickly as he arrived, consumed by the weight of responsibilities you could only guess at. despite his calm demeanor, there was something captivating about him, his quiet authority, the precision in how he carried himself, the faint traces of fatigue that made him seem more human.

˚ ༘♡ the first few weeks were suffocatingly mundane. you answered endless phone calls, most from irate clients demanding updates on investments you barely understood. your inbox overflowed with documents needing filing, scanning, or distributing. appointments had to be coordinated, schedules revised, and egos soothed. it was work that tested your patience, and yet, you did it without complaint. mr. cho rarely spoke to you beyond pleasantries, his days swallowed by meetings, late-night calculations, and hushed phone calls.

˚ ༘♡ on the rare occasions you stayed late, you noticed he often did too, seated at his desk with his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up, poring over spreadsheets or fielding yet another call. it became an unspoken routine for you to bring him coffee when you saw the office lights still on. he would glance up from his work, his glasses reflecting the faint glow of his computer screen, and offer a quiet, “thank you.” it wasn’t much, but something about those brief exchanges stayed with you during the long walks back to your desolate apartment.

˚ ༘♡ perhaps it was the contrast, how someone so stoic and seemingly untouchable could look so worn under the harsh fluorescent lights. or maybe it was the way he always acknowledged you, even in his busiest moments. either way, his presence made the monotony of the job feel a little less stifling.

˚ ༘♡ one evening, long after most employees had gone home, the office was quiet, the buzz of the city outside muffled by thick glass walls. the sky outside was smeared with hues of deep blue and violet, a harbinger of nightfall. after hours spent rearranging meetings, your eyes burned, and the air inside felt stale. you decided to step out for a moment, seeking the cool relief of the evening breeze.

˚ ༘♡ you pushed open the back door of the building and paused. mr. cho was there, leaning casually against the wall, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. wisps of smoke coiled lazily around him, catching the last rays of light. he looked… wretched. the angular lines of his face made obscure by an expression you couldn’t quite place. the glassy sheen in his dark eyes hinted at something far away, something melancholic.

˚ ༘♡ “i’m sorry,” you murmured, startled. “i didn’t mean to interrupt. i’ll leave you to it.”

˚ ༘♡ he turned his head slowly, shaking it. “no need. stay. i don’t mind.”

˚ ༘♡ his voice was steady, unhurried, like the rest of him. you hesitated, then let the door fall shut behind you. descending the short staircase, you stood a few paces from him. the city sounds, car horns, the hum of distant chatter, filled the silence between you.

˚ ༘♡ without a word, he took out a cigarette and held it toward you. surprised, you accepted, pressing it between your lips. he struck the lighter with a practiced flick, the small flame reflecting briefly in his eyes. leaning in, you felt the scathing heat as the cigarette caught.

˚ ༘♡ “you’re new here, aren’t you?” he asked after a moment, exhaling smoke that curled and dissipated into the night air.

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, drawing in your first hesitant puff. “yes, sir. i have been working at joy investments for about four months now.”

˚ ༘♡ “hmm.” he studied you, his gaze sharp but not unkind. “interesting. some of the secretaries here have been around for years, yet you do a better job than most of them.”

˚ ༘♡ his words struck you, unexpected and disarming. “thank you, mr. cho. i try to do my best,” you said softly, your voice almost lost in the city’s backdrop.

˚ ༘♡ you stood there together, the silence stretching long but never uncomfortable. you flicked the ash from your cigarette, watching the tiny embers fall and scatter on the ground. eventually, you put it out against the metal railing and tossed it into a nearby storm drain. mr. cho didn’t move, still leaning against the wall, staring into the distance as you murmured a polite goodnight and slipped back inside.

˚ ༘♡ later, when your shift ended, you gathered your coat and scarf, bracing yourself for the cold walk home. you were buttoning your coat when you spotted mr. cho by the lobby doors, speaking with another member of his team. his presence was magnetic, even in passing.

˚ ༘♡ what surprised you was how he excused himself mid-conversation, turning to approach you.

˚ ༘♡ “are you walking home?” he asked, his tone more direct now. “it’s late, not exactly safe out.”

˚ ༘♡ you mulled over the proposition, your fingers tightening on your scarf. “i don’t mind the walk. it’s peaceful at night. i live in eunpyeong-gu, not too far from here.”

˚ ༘♡ he frowned slightly. “eunpyeong-gu?” he repeated, as though thinking over the distance. “i’m heading to ssangmun-dong. it’s on the way. let me drive you.”

˚ ༘♡ his words were more command than offer, but there was a warmth beneath them. he retrieved his keys from his blazer pocket, the metallic jingle cutting through the stillness.

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, accepting his generous offer graciously. “thank you, sir. i’d appreciate that.”

˚ ༘♡ his car was sleek and black, understated but undeniably expensive. he opened the passenger door for you without a word, the leather seats felt comfortable against your skin, and the faint scent of cologne and tobacco drifting in the air.

˚ ༘♡ the drive was quiet. the city lights of seoul blurred into long streaks through the tinted windows, and for that passage of time, the world outside felt far away. mr. cho said little, his hands steady on the wheel, his dark eyes fixed on the asphalt road ahead.

˚ ༘♡ when he pulled up to your building, he shifted the car into park but kept the engine idling. his eyes flicked to you, dark and unreadable, his usual composure fraying at the edges. “get home safely,” he said, his voice quieter than it had been all evening.

˚ ༘♡ you paused, your hand on the door handle, the chill of the outside air seeping in through the crack you’d opened. the thought of leaving the car, of letting the night end like this, made your heart ache. before you could think twice, the words slipped out. “would you like to come inside for tea? i was planning to brew some.”

˚ ༘♡ his brow lifted slightly, the slightest sliver of surprise crossing his features. he considered your offer for a while, he said nothing, merely staring ahead at the dashboard as if he was working through some internal debate. finally, he exhaled. “tea would be nice,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

˚ ༘♡ you led him up the narrow staircase to your apartment, the silence between you thick but not awkward. the soft hum of the building’s fluorescent lights filled the lounge area, and you could feel the subtle feeling of his presence behind you. when you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the herbal scent of lavender from an old diffuser greeted you. the space was modest, organized but lived-in, with books stacked haphazardly on a coffee table and a blanket draped over the couch.

˚ ༘♡ “make yourself comfortable,” you said, slipping off your coat and setting it over a chair. he stood just inside the doorway, his tall frame almost too large for the small entryway, his hands shoved into his pockets like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

˚ ༘♡ “you have a nice place,” he said after a beat, his voice tender but strained.

˚ ༘♡ you offered a small smile, glancing over your shoulder as you moved toward the kitchen. but you didn’t make it there.

˚ ༘♡ when you turned back, he was closer, standing in the dim light of your apartment like he wasn’t entirely sure why he’d followed you in. his eyes caught yours, and the short space between you felt like it dissolved in an instant. neither of you spoke, but the air was charged, something unsaid yet painfully understood passing between you.

˚ ༘♡ his hand reached out first, tentative, brushing against your arm as if testing the waters. when you didn’t move away, his grip tightened, and suddenly his mouth was on yours, fierce and urgent, like he’d been holding back for far too long. the scent of him, tobacco, something woodsy, filled your senses, and your hands moved instinctively, fingers digging into the fabric of his wool blazer.

˚ ༘♡ your back hit the wall softly, and then his hands were at your waist, his body pressed against yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. it wasn’t careful, and it wasn’t slow, it was messy, a tangle of mouths and hands, you were two people trying to lose themselves in each other for just a little while.

˚ ༘♡ you barely registered how you ended up in your bedroom, your coat and his blazer discarded somewhere along the way. the dim light from the streetlamp outside spilled through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. the bed was warm, and so was he, but there was an ache beneath it all, an edge of something desperate and passionate.

˚ ༘♡ when you woke the next morning, the light was harsh, spilling through the cracks in the curtains and illuminating the reality of the night before. you stirred first, the weight of him next to you a reminder of everything that had happened in that heated entanglement.

˚ ༘♡ he was awake, lying on his back with an arm draped over his face. his dress shirt was wrinkled, and his tie hung loose around his neck, half-forgotten. there was a tension in his posture, his hands clenched into fists, his lips pressed into a thin line.

˚ ༘♡ “i should go,” he said finally, his voice hoarse, hardly above a whisper. he didn’t look at you as he lifted himself over the edge of the bed, sitting there for a minute, trying to mentally gather the strength to move.

˚ ༘♡ you watched him, your heart sinking deeper with every passing second. “you don’t have to go,” you said delicately, your voice barely above a whisper. you reached out, your fingers brushing against his shoulder, hoping to mend this disaster in a pathetic gesture of affection.

˚ ༘♡ he tensed under your touch but didn’t pull away. “this shouldn’t have happened,” sang-woo muttered, his voice thick with self-reproach. “i’m your superior. i’m over twice your age…” his words trembled as he exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his black hair. the carefully calm demeanor he usually wore at the office was ebbing away, slipping through the gaps. “fuck, where are my glasses?”

˚ ༘♡ his frustration wasn’t directed at you, but it stung all the same. his gaze swept the room until he found them, the frames haphazardly thrown to the floor. he bent down to retrieve them, clutching them tightly in his hand.

˚ ༘♡ standing upright, he looked at you for the first time since he spoke, his expression torn with anguish. “i’m sorry,” he said, and for once, the words that left his lips sounded unpracticed, raw and genuine. “i shouldn’t have done this. i shouldn’t have taken advantage of my position over you.”

˚ ༘♡ you stayed where you were, the blankets tangled around you, half-dressed and vulnerable. his words landed like small cuts, brutal and wounding. “if this is your way of saying it’s the first and last time, just say that,” you said, your voice firmer now, even as the hurt bled through. “don’t hide behind excuses.”

˚ ༘♡ his eyes glistened with something, regret, guilt, or maybe even longing. “no,” he said, stepping closer, hesitant but determined. his hands reached for your face, his touch warm and grounding. “of course i would love to see you again, but how can we? i’m your boss. you work for me. it’s an abuse of power, and if anyone found out, we’d both be ruined. management at joy investments wouldn’t hesitate to fire us for violating corporate policy.”

˚ ༘♡ “then we keep it a secret,” you replied, your voice laced with desire, your gaze locked with his.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head slightly. “you think i wouldn’t want that? you think i wouldn’t want to steal moments with you, even if no one could ever know?” his voice dipped lower, almost a plea. “but pretending not to care about you when we’re in public, keeping my distance, watching you from across the room as if you don’t mean more to me than anyone else…” he broke off, rubbing his temple. “it would drive me insane.”

˚ ༘♡ “weren’t you already doing that?” you said, a small grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

˚ ༘♡ he blinked, then chuckled lightly despite himself. “i was maintaining professional boundaries,” he admitted, though the words sounded hollow now. he slipped off his glasses, polishing the lenses absently with the edge of his sleeve. “boundaries i’ve crossed in every possible way last night.”

˚ ༘♡ he paused, his gaze returning to yours, weaker now. “so maybe you’re right,” he added, his lips curving into a wry, self-deprecating smile. “what’s left now for us to ruin?”

˚ ༘♡ the affair continued in shadows, a secret tether binding the two of you as the world moved obliviously around it. at work, everything appeared as it always had, professional, restrained, unassuming. he never lingered too long at your desk, never glanced your way for more than a few fleeting seconds. if anyone noticed anything amiss, they never said a word. yet, behind closed doors, the charade unraveled.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo would text late at night, asking to see you, his messages never too explicit but unmistakable in their intent. you would find yourself in his car again or at a hotel just out of town, places chosen carefully to avoid recognition. in those moments, he was different, a vulnerable man. his hands would hold you like he couldn’t bear to let go, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that belied the restraint he showed the rest of the world.

˚ ༘♡ but even as his touch ignited you, doubts began to creep in. at first, they were small, quiet things, easily dismissed when he whispered your name like it was the only word he cared to know. yet over time, the flaws became unfathomable to ignore.

˚ ༘♡ you started to notice how he never stayed too long after. he always had somewhere to be, an early meeting, an obligation with colleagues, an excuse that left you alone in bed, staring at the ceiling. at work, he was cordial but cold, his focus fixed on maintaining appearances.

˚ ༘♡ “we have to be cautious,” he’d say, his tone firm but not unkind. “you know how people talk. one rumor and it’s over for both of us.”

˚ ༘♡ you nodded each time, swallowing your sorrow, pretending it didn’t sting. but it did. the secrecy, the pretending, the constant tug-of-war between what you wanted and what you could have, it wore on you.

˚ ༘♡ weeks turned into months, and though the moments you shared with him were still intense, they began to feel hollow. you weren’t just hiding from the world; you were hiding from yourself.

˚ ༘♡ you started to wonder what you were to him. not a girlfriend, he never called you that. not a partner, because partners didn’t live in secrecy. what was the point of loving someone who couldn’t even say your name without glancing over his shoulder first?

˚ ༘♡ you confronted him one evening, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “what are we doing? what am i to you?”

˚ ༘♡ he froze, the usual calm, calculated expression gone. “you’re everything to me,” he said finally, but the words felt too rehearsed, too easy.

˚ ༘♡ “then why does it feel like i’m nothing?” you asked, your voice cracking.

˚ ༘♡ he rubbed the back of his neck, pacing the room like a man trapped. “it’s not that simple. my position, my reputation, it’s all i have, sweetheart. if people knew about us, it would ruin everything i’ve worked for.”

˚ ༘♡ “and what about me?” you shot back, the heat rising in your chest. “do you think this doesn’t ruin me? hiding, pretending, giving everything to you and getting scraps in return?”

˚ ༘♡ his shoulders slumped, and for a second, you saw something raw in his eyes. “i love you,” he said, and you believed him. but love wasn’t enough, not like this.

˚ ༘♡ “then prove it,” you said bitterly, your voice shaking.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t answer, and the lack of answer spoke louder than any explanation could. he was a man desperate for respect, for the image he’d spent years crafting and perfecting. and you were an unfortunate deficiency in the foundation, a risk he wasn’t brave enough to take.

˚ ༘♡ as you stood there, the misery of it all settled on your shoulders. you realized you were giving pieces of yourself away to someone who could never give you the same in return. and for the first time, you weren’t sure if you could keep doing it.

˚ ༘♡ he reached for you, his touch hesitant, but you stepped back. “sang-woo, i can’t continue being your secret,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i deserve more than that.”

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t stop you when you left, and that, more than anything, told you everything you needed to know.

˚ ༘♡ he spent the next few weeks trying, in every way he knew how, to reach you. his texts came first, short, imploring messages that grew more desperate with each passing day.

˚ ༘♡ you never responded, deleting them as soon as they appeared. then came the emails, written in his typically formal tone but laced with an underlying urgency that bordered on uncharacteristic. he didn’t beg, but the underlying message was clear, he was losing his sanity over you.

˚ ༘♡ at work, sang-woo started appearing in places he never had reason to be, near your desk, by the break room, even in hallways he had no meetings to attend. every time, his eyes would search for yours, pleading silently for something, acknowledgment, forgiveness, anything to mend the chasm that had opened between you. but you refused to meet his gaze, your resolve hardening even as your heart ached.

˚ ༘♡ eventually, he stopped. no more texts, no more emails, no more waiting outside your office. it was as if he’d resigned himself to your silence, as though he understood you had no intention of reopening the door he’d closed with his hesitation.

˚ ༘♡ but not at heart.

˚ ༘♡ you saw it in the way he carried himself now, his body tensed, his stride slower, his face devoid of the quiet confidence he used to exude. in meetings, he seemed distracted, his eyes landing on you only to dart away when he thought someone might notice.

˚ ༘♡ when you passed each other in the corridors, the pain in his expression was unmistakable. he didn’t try to speak to you anymore, but the way he looked at you, like you were something he’d lost and could never reclaim, was worse than any words he could have said. it was agony, for both of you, and you felt it every time.

˚ ༘♡ you told yourself this was for the best, that you couldn’t live your life tied to someone who wouldn’t fully claim you. you told yourself that his claims of love wasn’t enough when it was buried beneath secrecy and shame. but those rationalizations didn’t stop the hollow ache in your chest every time you caught his reflection in the glass of the office windows or saw his hands fidgeting during a presentation.

˚ ༘♡ he wasn’t just grieving the loss of you, he was punishing himself for it. you saw it in the way he avoided the employee lounge now, where you might be, the way he no longer stayed late after work, perhaps because the silence reminded him of what had once been. he was a man unraveling in slow motion, and though it hurt to watch, you knew you couldn’t be the one to put him back together.

˚ ༘♡ you told yourself you couldn’t think of him forever. and yet, in the quiet hours of the night, when you lay awake in your empty apartment, you found yourself wondering if he was awake too, staring at the ceiling, trying to forget you the way you were trying to forget him.

˚ ༘♡ when he suddenly stopped showing up one day, you told yourself it didn’t matter. you’d spent weeks distancing yourself from him, building walls to protect the fragile peace you were trying to restore in your life. his absence should have been a relief. you should’ve been grateful for the quiet. but instead, it gnawed at you.

˚ ༘♡ you reasoned he might have taken a business trip or been sent to a conference. yet, as the days stretched into weeks, the silence surrounding his disappearance became impossible to ignore. whispers began to circulate in the office, snippets of overheard conversations that sounded too wild to believe.

˚ ༘♡ “forgery,” someone murmured near the coffee machine. “embezzlement,” said another, their tone tinged with disbelief. “siphoning client funds, can you imagine? what an idiot.”

˚ ༘♡ you dismissed it at first, refusing to entertain the thought. rumors spread like wildfire in the corporate world, often fueled by jealousy or boredom. but the uneasy feeling in your chest wouldn’t leave.

˚ ༘♡ unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, you sought out the manager of all investing departments, a stern man known for his no-nonsense approach. he seemed surprised when you asked about cho sang-woo but didn’t wait to provide an answer.

˚ ༘♡ “it’s true,” he said bluntly. “he siphoned money from client accounts to fund personal investments, stocks, futures, the works. lost every cent. he’s disappeared now. hasn’t answered calls or emails. if he shows up again, he’ll be fired on the spot and handed over to the authorities unless he reimburses the clients in full. but, between you and me, i doubt he has the means.”

˚ ༘♡ you stood there, numb, the significance of all that occurred with you ignorant to it all pressing down on your chest. sang-woo, austere, professional, and fiercely intelligent, had done this? the man you thought you knew, who always carried himself with precision and dignity, had thrown everything away on a gamble?

˚ ༘♡ you wanted to be angry, furious that he could have made such reckless choices. but instead, all you felt was an overwhelming wave of worry. where was he now? what was he doing? was he even safe?

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t stop yourself. you called his number, your fingers quivering as you pressed the digits. it rang and rang, only to cut off. no voicemail. you texted him, pleading for an answer, any sign that he was okay. nothing.

˚ ༘♡ the lack of response was unbearable, so you did the only thing you could think of, you went to his neighborhood. it was an impulsive decision, driven by a pitiful dismay you couldn’t suppress.

˚ ༘♡ you arrived late in the evening, the streets quiet under the dim glow of streetlights. his building loomed ahead, its windows dark and uninviting. you buzzed his unit at the entrance, your heart pounding in your chest.

˚ ༘♡ no response.

˚ ༘♡ you buzzed again, and again, your desperation mounting with each unanswered call. finally, an older tenant passing by offered to let you in, probably mistaking your apprehension for something more passive. you murmured your thanks and slipped inside, the air in the stairwell gloomy and stale.

˚ ༘♡ you reached his door and knocked, the sound echoing in the stillness. “sang-woo?” you called out, your voice exhausted. “are you in there?”

˚ ༘♡ nothing.

˚ ༘♡ pressing your ear to the door, you strained to hear any sign of life, a shuffle, a breath, anything. but the apartment was silent, as if no one had been there for days.

˚ ༘♡ a burdened pang pierced at your chest, and you leaned against the doorframe, fighting the rising surge of fear. what had happened to him? where could he have gone?

˚ ༘♡ you tried to tell yourself he’d resurface eventually, that this wasn’t your responsibility, but it was a hollow comfort. the man you’d loved, the man you may still love, was out there somewhere and you couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

˚ ༘♡ you stayed at the door longer than you should have, staring at the splintered wood as though it might suddenly yield. but it didn’t, and you left with a growing sense of unease. it wasn’t until you stepped onto the street, cold air biting your cheeks, that you caught sight of him.

˚ ༘♡ he was farther down the block, walking briskly, his head low, his shoulders hunched against the evening chill. his clothes were rumpled, his actions were quick and uneasy, like he was trying to outrun something. you stood still, watching him for a few minutes before instinct kicked in.

˚ ༘♡ you followed him at a distance, your heart pounding harder with every step. he didn’t notice you as he turned a corner, heading toward a dingy motel that sat on the edge of the neighborhood. the neon sign buzzed faintly, flickering erratically, casting a sickly green glow on the pavement.

˚ ༘♡ he disappeared inside, and you hesitated for a moment before pushing through the door. the motel’s lobby smelled of stale cigarettes and mildew, its yellowed walls decorated with faded prints of generic landscapes. you saw him again, down the narrow hallway, his motions slower now as he unlocked a door and slipped inside.

˚ ༘♡ you followed, your pulse a chaotic drumbeat in your ears. when you reached the door, you knocked, first lightly, then harder. no response.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo,” you called, your voice low but steady. “it’s me. open the door.”

˚ ༘♡ nothing.

˚ ༘♡ your hand hovered over the handle, and when you pressed down, it gave way. the door creaked open, revealing the dim, suffocating space beyond.

˚ ༘♡ the room was barely lit, a single bulb flashing weakly overhead. clothes were draped haphazardly over the back of a chair, and an empty bottle sat tipped over on the nightstand. the air was thick, the scent of alcohol and something that reeked of chemicals clinging to every surface.

˚ ༘♡ then you saw him.

˚ ༘♡ he was in the bathroom, the door half-open, slumped in the narrow, grimy tub. the water was filled to the brim, cloudy and tinged with a faint, sickly hue. an empty soju bottle dangled from his hand, his head tilted back against the tiles. his shirt was half unbuttoned, clinging damply to his skin, his face pale and weary.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t move. your breath caught in your throat as you took in what was haopening, the torment of the painful scene before you hitting you all at once.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo,” you said, stepping into the bathroom, your voice horrified. “what the hell are you doing?”

˚ ༘♡ his head turned slightly, his gaze unfocused but intense enough to bore into you. his lips twisted into something that might have been a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “what does it look like?” he muttered, his voice slurred and thick.

˚ ༘♡ you crouched beside the tub, grabbing the glass bottle from his hand and setting it aside. “you’re out of your mind,” you said, your tone hard but trembling beneath the surface. “is this your plan? to drown yourself in this… this mess?”

˚ ༘♡ he chuckled, the sound brittle and malicious. “it’s not a plan,” he said. “it’s… it’s only easier. don’t you understand? everything’s gone. the money, the clients, the respect. i lost it all. so what’s the point?”

˚ ༘♡ you wanted to shake him, to drag him out of the water and back into the real world. instead, you stayed where you were, staring at the man who seemed so far removed from the one you thought you knew.

˚ ༘♡ “you think this fixes anything?” you murmured. “you think disappearing into this terrible motel will make it all go away?”

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t respond, just let his eyes drift to the chipped ceiling.

˚ ༘♡ you stood, your hands quivering as you turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel, tossing it at him. “get out of the tub,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument. “dry off. sober up. and then figure out what the hell you’re going to do. because this?” you gestured around the room, your frustration emerging. “this isn’t an answer. it’s pathetic.”

˚ ༘♡ he flinched at the word, but he slowly began to sit up, the water sloshing over the edge of the tub. droplets clung to his skin, and his movements were sluggish, like he was dragging himself through quicksand. you didn’t offer to help, stepping back instead, arms crossed as the sound of water dripping onto the marble tiled floor.

˚ ༘♡ “oh my gosh, get yourself together,” you muttered, yet you sounded as if you were on the verge of tears.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t respond, just sat there for a moment, his shoulders slumped, his hair plastered to his forehead. eventually, he grabbed the towel, wrapping it loosely around himself as he climbed out of the tub.

˚ ༘♡ the atmosphere was suffocating, dense with unspoken words and unacknowledged fear. he walked past you without meeting your eyes, water pooling on the floor with every step.

˚ ༘♡ then came the knock.

˚ ༘♡ it wasn’t loud or insistent, only a single, deliberate tap against the door. your eyes snapping toward the sound. for an agonizing instance, neither of you dared to act, the atmosphere shifting into something more solemn, something grave.

˚ ༘♡ “who is that?” you asked, your voice unstable.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t answer, but his brow lowered, his unease evident. he took an unstable step toward the door, but before he could reach it, a card slid through the slit beneath.

˚ ༘♡ the stark white rectangle lay on the worn carpet, the edges crisp, as though it had been placed with care. you moved first, bending to pick it up, your fingers skimming the surface.

˚ ༘♡ when you flipped it over, you saw on one side there was a simplistic, unsettling design, a circle, a triangle, and a square, printed in bold black ink. the shapes were clean, symmetrical, and yet somehow they carried a dreadful presence.

˚ ༘♡ you turned the card over, expecting to find some kind of explanation, but the back was blank.

˚ ༘♡ “what is it?” he asked, his voice rough, tinged with something between interest and dread.

˚ ༘♡ you held the thin piece of laminated paper out to him, letting him take it from your hands. his expression darkened as he studied it, his fingers constricting around the card.

˚ ༘♡ neither of you spoke. the silence was unbearable, the air electric with implicit perplexity and the creeping realization that whatever this card was, it wasn’t random.

a/n: a little longer than my other works, please let me know your thoughts and if you would like me to turn this into a series. part three of the professor cho-sang woo series is also coming soon!! 🤍

[rbingsquidgame]

I am tempted to do some kind of Head Canons of Squid Game characters as teachers, but I fear I cannot come up with anything on some characters or fit them as teachers

Also yes it would be the classy stereotypical (usa) teachers or something, because those just are the most used types and shit. and maybe I just put few characters I cant fit as teacher to stereotypical students.

[broken-ghost]

Inbox is Open for Requests! 

I typically write female reader out of habit so if you would prefer gender neutral or male reader please specify and you got it !

Fluff, Angst, Smut, I’m open for anything.

All requests welcome but if you are looking for prompts here’s the Latest Prompt List: First Kiss Prompts

Masterlist

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Fandoms/Characters I write for:

Stranger Things: Jim Hopper, Dmitri Antonov, Joyce Byers, Murray Bauman, Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Billy Hargrove, Alexei Smirnoff

Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit: Thorin, Thranduil, Legolas, Elrond, Boromir, Kili, Fili, Bofur, Aragorn, Celeborn, Bilbo, Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir, Eowyn, Arwen

Obey Me!: Lucifer, Diavolo, Mammon, Beelzabub

Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul: Hank Schrader, Lalo Salamanca, Nacho Vargo, Jesse Pinkman, Howard Hamlin, Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman

Game of Thrones: Jamie Lannister, Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Jorah Mormont, Sandor Clegane, Tormund Giantsbane, Stannis Baratheon, Bronn of the Blackwater, Gendry Baratheon, Jaqen H'ghar (This is the only fandom I’m open to writing character x character pairings in so feel free to send those as well)

The Boys: Homelander, Queen Maeve, Billy Butcher, Soldier Boy, Mother’s Milk, Frenchie

Squid Game: Seong Gi-hun, Cho Sang-woo, Hwang Jun-ho, Sae-byeok, Jang Deok-su, Salesman, Front Man

The Hollows/Rachel Morgan Series: Trent Kalamack, Rachel Morgan, Ivy Tamwood, Algaliarept “Al”, Rynn Cormel, Stanley Saladan, Kisten Felps, David Hue

[squidgamesmut]

Cho Sang-woo | Tell me you're mine 🦑🌶️

Prompt: Sang-woo pretends to not care about you, until the threat of losing you to someone else closes in on him. He has to claim what is his once and for all, before you disappear into the arms of a total stranger.

Pairing: Cho Sang-woo X Female Reader

Word count: 3.1K

Tags: NSFW, semi-public sex, tsundere elements

Spoilers: None

MINORS DNI

Eternal bachelor Cho Sang-woo did not care about you. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself and others alike, when you stalk around him during the games, twirling your (h/c) hair around your index finger whenever he speaks about something. In that regard, it’s not necessarily a secret that you like Sang-woo, for you were his childhood friend on the outside, yet lost contact when he went to university.

He was different from what he used to be, but truly, your feelings had not subdued. Perhaps it had been foolish of you to confess to him the very week he was leaving for Seoul National University, only for him to turn you down. Getting back in touch with him during the games made your old feelings rush back to you, causing you to become a nervous mess around him.

No matter how many decades ago it was, or how many other boyfriends you had dated in the meantime, coming face to face with Sang-woo again after such a long time wrecked you. Suddenly, you felt like a hopeless teenager again who had a crush on the bad boy at their high school.

It was your other childhood friend, Gi-hun, who had outed your crush in front of hundreds of other people during the start of the games, wondering if you were together. When you shook your head in response, he had flushed, apologising for asking such a question for he had known how much you had cared for Sang-woo despite him not returning those feelings, only making matters worse. He had meant well, of course, but Gi-hun didn’t always have the best of ways with his words, let alone good timing.

Not that it truly mattered, for you had a feeling that you wouldn’t survive this Game, anyways. Perhaps you’d been foolish to return to this place. Your feelings for Sang-woo had rekindled to a point that common sense had left you, and you remained with a pained feeling in your chest, watching Sang-woo converse with Gi-hun a few bunks away, whilst you sat with your back against the metal bed-frame, Ali sitting right next to you.

“You really like him, don’t you?” The sweet gaze of Ali made you smile when you looked at him, nodding a little, feeling confident enough to share your feelings with him. “Yes,” said you, “Very much so. We used to know each other when we were children, and I already used to be in love with him back then. Seeing him now, it brings back a lot of good memories and old feelings.”

Ali sighed, his smile growing. “Why don’t you go to him and ask what he thinks of you? What do you have to lose?”

You scoffed albeit in good nature, and looked at your new friend.

“Everything, honestly.” you told him with a wry smile. Ali tilted his head in question.

“Well, if I were you, I’d just shoot my shot.” he said. “Gi-hun has told me about your childhoods, and how you all used to be friends.”

Your cheeks reddened. “Gi-hun? Oh, can’t he shut up...? Hm… Perhaps you’re right.” you told him, sighing.

Ali nodded, gesturing to Sang-woo. “Go and talk to him. I believe in you.”

You smiled and got up, looking a bit frightened at your friend, who gave you a thumbs-up. Approaching the man in question, you cleared your throat, attempting to calm your racing heart.

“Sang-woo?” you quizzed softly, causing him to look up.

“Yes, (Y/n)?”

“I uh… I was wondering what you’re doing.”

Out of habit, he readjusted his spectacles that weren’t even there, and frowned a little. “Well, just talking to Gi-hun and the old man. We’re discussing what the next game could be.”

“I recognised the other games we already played from what we did when we were children.” you stated. “Perhaps… Perhaps we can brainstorm about other things we used to do?”

Sang-woo sighed. “Yes, that is exactly what we were doing already.”

You immediately felt stupid, starting to fiddle with your hands in front of you. “Oh. Well, in that case, can I join?”

Gi-hun gave a small nod, and the old man didn’t even notice that you were asking something.

“Of course.” Sang-woo said, albeit a bit reluctant. His rejection once again hurt, but then, you were at fault yourself for catching feelings again like that, in a death game of all things. He’d never want you the way you wanted him, that much was clear.

You sighed and sat down next to him, feeling fuzzy despite his cold nature. When scooting closer, he didn’t shy away and looked at you, blinking slowly.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, (Y/n), but I’m not here for romance.”

“Nor am I,” you bitterly retorted, voice laced with something sad, because his words did sting. “But if you speak any louder, the rest might hear us. It’s better to whisper.”

Sang-woo let out a hum and beckoned Gi-hun closer. The old man had drifted off into a nap. Old people did require sleep, after all.

“So I was thinking: freeze tag.” Gi-hun stated, smiling a little. “Or hopscotch. The person who touches the wrong tile gets eliminated… Uh…” His voice trailed off and he rubbed his neck awkwardly, looking between you and Sang-woo.

“Maybe tic tac toe.” you suggested.

Gi-hun flinched, shaking his head. “Ah, no, probably not. That would mean that half of the players would lose, and thus be eliminated. That would be hardly fair, right? Oh, that reminds me! I remember that Sang-woo always beat you at tic tac toe, and that you were still always so determined to win from him.”

You smiled a bit, daring to look at Sang-woo, who had a rather unreadable expression on his face. “Tsk, I thought it was annoying.” he said. “And then you told me that if I’d let you win, you’d give me a kiss on my cheek.”

Your face flushed and you smiled, tilting your head slightly. “That’s true. You did lose on purpose after that.”

Sang-woo’s eyes snapped to yours at the mention thereof. “I did not!”

“You totally did!” Gi-hun supported you, “I remember you blushing brightly after she kissed your cheek, and when (Y/n) was gone, you said you had a crush on her!”

“I did no such thing!” Sang-woo spat, flustered. “To imply that I had a crush on (Y/n)!”

Your emotions were raging at full speed, and you were more puzzled than ever. Sang-woo used to have a crush on you?! You couldn’t believe your ears! Still, what he was saying right here and now, in this very place, weighed heavier.

“I need to use the loo,” said you, standing up and rushing away, hoping to keep in your tears.

The evening was nearing, and you just hoped to get some alone time before having to head to the bunk beds, yours awfully close to Sang-woo’s, the current bane of your existence. Swallowing thickly, you rushed towards the door, white shoes squeaking against the concrete. Just a moment to get out your confusion by bawling your eyes out, it was all you needed.

A figure halted you in your tracks, causing you to almost run into him. “Easy there,” the man said, and you took a second to comprehend what was happening. “Why the rush?”

You recognised this man to be the big bully of the group - the number 101 sat on his chest, which he had puffed out to appear larger than he really was, and a tattoo of a snake sat on the left side of his jaw. You blinked at him, swallowing thickly.

“I’m just going to the loo.”

“Without me?” he quizzed. He reached over and tucked some hair behind your ear, smirking a little - if he hadn’t been so atrociously vile, you might have considered him attractive. Deok-su, you believed his name to be.

“Sir, please, I just need to--”

“Sir! Ha!” he laughed out loud and looked over his shoulder to one of his henchmen, who shook their head in disbelief. “What a treasure, what a sweetheart, calling me sir. I wonder what else your pretty mouth can do. Listen, if you allow me to join you in the restrooms, I’ll…”

He leaned closer, whispering whilst looking beside him - someone was passing the two of you in the middle of the room, someone familiar - the number 218 flashed in your field of vision briefly. Sang-woo. He halted, peering behind him, eyes momentarily locking on yours. “I’ll make it worth your while. And if not, I can always join you on your bunk. The nights can be cold, hm?”

You looked at Deok-su, toying with the idea of playing along.

“Meet me tonight, then.” you said with feigned interest. “If you’re as good as you claim to be, come and see me.” Bringing forward your hand, you caressed his upper arm, Deok-su grinning at the gesture.

“Looking forward to it.” he muttered, nodding towards his henchmen to move on, “See you then, princess.”

You mentally cringed at the nickname and faked a flirty smile. “See you in a bit, handsome.”

Sang-woo’s shoulders tensed, and he continued walking once he noticed your conversation with Jang Deok-su was over.

Upon your way to the restroom, your mind started to run at full speed. Were you really going to do this? Only to get back at Sang-woo for rejecting you? Why would the man in question even care, you bitterly thought whilst sitting on one of the toilets for a few minutes, burying your face into your hands. Why would Sang-woo care about who you fucked?

Had you gotten into deep shit now that you invited that thug into your bed?

Flushing the toilet, you drank some water from one of the taps and took a shaky breath, returning to the common room.

The timer had started to run down, and people were preparing to go to bed. With weak knees, you headed for your bunk, hoping to fall asleep before Deok-su would come and find you.

Your heart was drumming against your chest when you slipped under the covers. Your bed, on the bottom of the bunk, shook whilst other people climbed on top of it, the metal frames creaking at the disturbance. You drew the blankets up to your chin and sighed, not daring to look at either Deok-su or Sang-woo.

The announcer had begun the countdown, and it was relatively calm in the room. You just hoped that the thug would forget about you, or that he’d change his mind.

As soon as the lights turned off and the room was clouded in darkness, you held your breath for a few seconds, listening to the people around you roll into comfortable positions.

It was silent for a minute apart from the drumming of your heart in your ears. You were certain that you were going to pass out soon.

A figure slipped behind you into bed, and you involuntarily shuddered at his touch. “Deok-su?” you quizzed softly when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“Deok-su, perhaps we shouldn’t--”

“Sssh…”

Your heart skipped several beats. That voice did not belong to that thug.

A warm hand snaked its way into the trousers of your tracksuit, and hot breath wafted into your ear. “(Y/n),” Sang-woo’s all-too-familiar voice whispered, “Do you really think that I am going to allow that thug to take you? You’re much better than letting him do that.”

Gasping, you looked over your shoulder to see his face closer than ever, his eyes slightly shimmering in the hue emitted from the large piggy bank in the middle of the ceiling. “Sang-woo,” you whispered, “What are you doing?”

Your throat screwed shut, hoping it wasn’t just an awful joke, or that he wanted to give you false hope so that you’d stay on his side throughout the Game. Still, some hope sparked in your chest, and his hand found the edge of your knickers, slipping inside.

A whimper left your throat and you chewed your bottom lip to keep quiet, Sang-woo’s face suddenly pressing against your neck. “Think I’m going to let him take you away from me?”

“I’m not yours, Sang-woo.” you sigh, arousal surging through your body at the gentle exploring of his fingers over your folds, gathering the growing wetness to spread them over your slit. “You didn’t want me, remember?”

He let out a scoff into your hair, scooting closer. A firm bulge pressed against your butt and you gasped at the feeling of its twitch. Confidence caused you to roll back your hips, and Sang-woo hissed sharply through his teeth.

“That’s what you think,” he grunted, “Thing is, I never reckoned that I’d deserve you. I still don’t think I deserve you. You’re too sweet for that. But this I know, and that is that I deserve you more than that thug deserves you.”

Tears appeared in the corners of your eyes, both overwhelmed with how close Sang-woo was to you and the realisation that Sang-woo only pretended to not care. “I’ve always loved you,” he whispered into your hair, “I’m just too stupid to express that. And seemingly, acting like a dick around you has not scared you off. You can do better than me, (Y/n). But I won’t let him snatch you from me.”

You blinked away the wetness in your eyes and angled your face to look at him, bringing one hand up to stroke the back of it against his cheek. He had never been this close before, and you sighed, feeling yourself relax more under his touch. “You belong to me.” he told you, “Deok-su has to know that.”

“Sang-woo, I--” You swallowed a whimper when his index finger slithered against your clit, a hasty kiss from his side landing against your jaw.

“Just be quiet and let me take care of you, okay?” he muttered, sucking the skin of your neck against his tongue, grazing his teeth over the surface. He eased two fingers inside of your hole, stretching you slightly. A sigh left your lungs and you closed your eyes, resting your head on the pillow, facing away from him, your back against his front.

He picked up speed before you knew it, and his palm plopped against your lower abdomen with every thrust of his fingers - you hoped that the noise, alongside the slight sound of your wetness being disturbed, would not be heard by anyone else. You rolled back your eyes at the sensation of his wonderful, calloused digits taking care of you, fucking you deeply, curling and twisting in the most delicious of ways.

“Oh, Sang-woo.” you murmured, soft enough for only him to hear. “I need you. I’ve always needed you.”

He kissed your neck, his hair tickling your skin, and he pulled his fingers from your depths. A whimper was swallowed by his lips on yours, and he shoved your tracksuit pants to your knees alongside your knickers, leaving the lower part of your body exposed yet under the covers. Sang-woo slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting you deeply whilst he fiddled with his own trousers, freeing his erection from the constraints of the tracksuit.

Sang-woo was well-endowed, with large veins running across his base and had some girth to him, though he was of average length. It was all you noticed when he rolled forward his hips after aligning himself with your soaked entrance, filling you within one swift movement. You moaned into his mouth, albeit muffled, and you just hoped that you wouldn’t be too noisy.

Slowly, he began to thrust his hips, barely giving you time to adjust. He drew back from the kiss to look at you, sweat building on his forehead, his skin wonderfully glowing in the soft light.

By all you loved, you wished your situation had been different. That you weren’t in a death game, that Sang-woo was spooning you whilst fucking you from behind in the comfortable haven of your own bed. But this was your reality now, and you had to deal with it. Regardless of what tomorrow would bring, you chose to enjoy this moment here and now.

Shuffling before you, a little away. Your face shot away from Sang-woo’s heated kisses, peering into the darkness. Meanwhile, your lover’s hips kept rolling into your butt, holding onto your waist. “Focus on me, my dear.” Sang-woo told you when he noticed your changing mood whilst fear crept up on you, a dark figure approaching your bunk from the depth of night. “Turn around and look at me.”

Sang-woo slipped out of you for a moment, his cock slick against your thighs, and you rolled over in bed, his legs immediately tangling with yours before he sheathed himself inside of you again, bottoming out in one go. You hugged him close, his head against your shoulder, and an orgasm built up at the sensation of his fingers starting to play with your straining clit.

“Pretty princess?” you heard Deok-su whisper from far away, and Sang-woo drowned out the words by breathing huskily into your ear.

“Focus on me. Ignore him. I have you now.”

He fucked into you, breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. With the hardening of his face when his eyes found Deok-su’s figure nearing your bed, quickened the pace of his fingers on your clit. The clench of your pussy around his cock heralded your climax, and you wrapped your leg a bit tighter around his hip.

“(L/n)? Pretty princess?” You couldn’t help but still sense Deok-su’s looming presence, his footsteps becoming louder.

You chewed your bottom lip tightly, choosing to concentrate on the pleasure Sang-woo was giving you. You were so close, and you just hoped to remain quiet through it all-

“What the fuck? What the fuck are you doing?!” Deok-su suddenly spat when he noticed Sang-woo’s rocking hips against you, “You slut!”

His voice was louder than anticipated, but Sang-woo’s fingers were louder. You came undone against him, legs shaking at your climax. You softly moaned Sang-woo’s name, whose jaw tensed against your face as he maintained eye contact with Deok-su, sharply thrusting a few more times.

He painted your inner walls with opaque seed, spilling himself deep inside of you.

“(Y/n) is not yours to call pretty princess, Jang.”

Deok-su scoffed, crossing his arms. “You better watch out. I’ll teach you to cross me.”

The thug stalked off right away before you could even respond, and Sang-woo pulled out his satisfied length from your depths. He shifted so that he could look at you and cupped your face with his hand, softly stroking your cheek with loving circles.

“I promise that he will not bother you any longer,” Sang-woo told you, and you put your forehead against his. “I will make sure of that. You’re under my protection. You can count on me.”

You closed your eyes and smiled softly, sighing deeply as exhaustion hit you.

“Stay with me tonight?” you queried, feeling his hot breath hit your face.

“I will.” Sang-woo told you. “I’m here.”

Tag list: @badedum-badaboom / @a-gay-elephant-called-jonathan / @leia-origami / @dean-samw67 / @therealromewrites / @hoebag123 / @thefleetofdreams / @momona-ha / @frontmanfanatic / @secretagent101 / @gihunmybeloved / @dancedannydance / @smutnafiranka / @fairielovegood

[leia-writes]

These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

hwang in-ho | front man x female reader

Chapter 6: Crimson & Clover

warnings - blood, weapons, light smut?

THIS SERIES IS 18+ ONLY

song - crimson & clover by tommy james & the shondells

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Your time spent preparing for the next round of games went just as you expected. The new host was ruthless. Il-nam was involved in some planning, but with his health declining he wasn’t around much.

You hated the changes the host made, the most weird and disgusting being the new VIP lounge. He changed it from the neutral classy look it had to a gaudy, fake rainforest theme, with the worst part being the live models painted to look like animals and used as decoration and furniture. That certainly was a strange one to hire for.

As time went on, you rarely saw In-ho, and when you did he was silent and cold towards you outside of discussing work matters. Even though nothing really happened between the two of you, it still kind of broke your heart. You were just so excited to spend more time with him but now you were growing apart.

And In-ho knew exactly what he was doing, even though he didn’t want to do it. It broke his heart too to see you and ignore you or keep discussions restricted to work, but he knew it was probably for the best. He didn’t see himself as a man good enough to be with you. It’d be better if the two of you just forgot about everything and grew apart.

One evening, you were sitting in a conference room going over potential players with In-ho. It had been a while since you’d seen each other, and In-ho was being his usual cold self. As you were scrolling through the information, you gasped.

You saw your former boss, Sang-woo, come up on your screen. Turns out he fucked up just as much as you had.

In-ho eyed you. “What is it?”

You laughed. “It’s Cho Sang-woo. My former boss. Who you punched at the bar.”

He stayed silent, pulling up the information on his computer.

You scoffed. “That fucker. No wonder he approached me that night.” You kept reading the information on his debt and scoffed. “And he had the audacity to say I was the one who fucked up? He’s definitely getting in.”

“Works for me.”

You eyed In-ho. He was clearly not paying much attention. He didn’t have to act so uninterested. “You know, you can still be nice to me. I think you’ve forgotten that.”

In-ho looked up at you, almost glaring. “I’m aware.”

“I’m just saying.”

“I’m being perfectly fine towards you.”

“Well I think you could be nicer.”

“You know why it has to be this way.”

You looked down, the familiar wave of sadness coming over you again. You sighed. “I know.”

In-ho gathered his things and promptly left the room, saying nothing to you. Once he was gone, you took in a deep breath and rubbed your face, feeling frustrated. It just wasn’t fair.

Meanwhile, In-ho made his way back to your main residence. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room with you anymore. He knew he’d say something he shouldn’t, and if the host knew there was even an inkling of something going on you’d be done for.

~~~

The day the games began you sat with In-ho in the main room. You thought back to this moment last year, when you had just started having feelings for In-ho. Even though you were sitting closer to him, you felt further away than you ever had.

The weight of the past several months started to overwhelm your mind. You joined this organization to give yourself something to do, but now you wanted to escape it. And you had nowhere to go to feel better because the one person who could help is stuck here with you.

As you watched the players play Red Light Green Light, you thought again of your first experience here. In that moment you regretted ever accepting the game with the salesman, agreeing to join the games, and agreeing to be the Front Woman. Tears started to stream down your face, unable to hold them back anymore. You stayed silent.

In-ho glanced at you. He noticed you crying, but forced himself to stay silent and ignore you. You noticed him ignore you and felt even worse.

You scoffed. “Don’t mind me, I’m just crying because that asshole Sang-woo made it to the finish line.”

In-ho sighed, looking into his empty glass. The whiskey went to his head a bit and he said, “Y/n. I’m sorry.”

You looked at him. He avoided your gaze and stood up, walking to his bedroom and shutting the door. You sat there alone, watching the screen but not paying attention at all, tears continuing to fall down your face.

~~~

The day the players voted to end the games, you and In-ho rode with Il-nam in the limo to Seoul. Initially you were shocked to learn that he wanted to participate in the games himself, but seeing how happy Il-nam was almost made it make sense to you.

Il-nam wanted to travel to Seoul to run into one of the players. He seemed particularly drawn to this guy and wanted to make sure he returned. You and In-ho dropped Il-nam off and drove away, parking off a nearby street out of sight while you waited.

The air in the limo was thick with tension. Neither of you said anything. It was driving you crazy.

You sighed and opened the car door. “I’m going to get some air.”

In-ho grabbed your arm, keeping you in the car. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You scoffed. “Why not?”

“We need to be ready to go immediately when he’s done.”

“And I know that. I’m only going to be out for a few minutes.”

“You’re not leaving.”

“Yes. I am.”

You pulled away again but In-ho shoved you back in the car and leaned over you to shut your door. The sudden close proximity made you blush, which then made you incredibly annoyed.

You sighed in frustration. “Why do you insist I suffer? Can I just have one moment of peace?” You looked at him, exhausted.

He could see the sadness and exhaustion written all over your face. He felt bad for forcing you to stay in the car, but to him his one moment of peace was sitting here with you, alone and away from the island.

“Just stay here.”

He looked at you, his eyes almost silently pleading for you to stay. You settled back into your seat and he released his hand from your arm.

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Fine.”

You sat in silence until Il-nam came back.

~~~

Once the players returned, things went smoothly until the player and guards were discovered to have been harvesting and selling organs. As In-ho dealt with them in the dalgona playroom, you discovered where they had been performing the operations.

The air was thick with the scent of blood. You immediately alerted In-ho on the radio. As you scanned the mask of the dead guard, you knew there were still 2 guards missing. As you were contemplating, you heard a gunshot in the distance. What the fuck?

You turned to one of the guards with you. “Where do you take the organs from here?”

The guard started explaining but was interrupted by In-ho walking in. He turned towards you. “You need to go back up to ensure everything else runs smoothly. I’ll take it from here.”

You sighed and left. You didn’t want to deal with that disgusting shit anyways.

You sat in one of the conference rooms, eagerly awaiting updates from In-ho. After a while, he radioed you. “We found one guard, but he’s been shot. The gun isn’t any gun we have here. This means there’s an intruder.”

“Okay. What should we do?”

“I’ll be checking the guard dorms. We’ll be starting the next round now, ahead of schedule, so make sure that happens accordingly.”

You set the radio back in your pocket and made your way to the control room, setting off the emergency alarms. As you instructed the guards to start the next round, the marbles game, In-ho was checking the guard dorms. Turns out guard 29 is missing.

Once the marbles game ended, you made your way to your main residence. You knew the VIPs would be arriving soon and needed to be close to the phone, since In-ho was out with the guards looking for the intruder.

When you exited the elevator, something immediately felt off. You were soon shaken from your thoughts by the sound of the phone ringing. As you approached it, you noticed the phone was placed incorrectly. You knew In-ho was particular about the way he set it down… what the hell?

You picked up the phone to be notified the VIPs will be arriving soon. Setting the phone back down, you couldn’t shake the feeling the intruder had been there.

You immediately drew your gun and quietly inspected each room, ending at In-ho’s room. You’d never been inside of it before. It was quite plain, with a few books here and there. You immediately noticed another door left open. It had to be the records room. You’d received papers from there many times but never physically went inside of it since In-ho would always get them.

You made your way into the records room and slowly inspected your surroundings, but didn’t make it far before hearing In-ho on your radio.

“We found a body.”

You quickly confirmed the location and made your way to In-ho. You still couldn’t shake the feeling of someone being there who shouldn’t be, but you had to leave.

As you approached In-ho, you noticed one of the guards handing him a wallet from the dead body. “We found a police ID.”

You stopped and stood next to In-ho, noticing him examine the ID. He sighed deeply, he seemed pretty shaken. You stood there in confusion.

You looked down at the body and recognized him as the missing guard, but the ID on him didn’t match. The intruder was still out there.

In-ho sighed. His radio beeped and he raised it to his ear. A voice crackled, “The VIPs have arrived.”

He sighed again, and you noticed him almost shaking. “Incinerate the body.” He turned towards you. “Make sure it gets done. I’ll tend to the VIPs now.” He walked away before you could say anything.

You made sure the body was taken care of and made your way back to your main residence. You sat in the kitchen drinking, happy to have avoided the VIPs coming through. Shortly after, In-ho arrived.

He joined you in the kitchen, clearly shaken. He snatched your glass of wine and downed the entire thing in one gulp.

You furrowed your eyebrows, eyeing him. “What’s going on?”

He sighed and poured more into the glass, handing it back to you. “Everything.”

You sighed back and looked into your glass. “Fuck the VIPs. They won’t be here for long anyways.”

“We need to find the intruder.” “Right. That too.”

In-ho sighed again. You studied him. He seemed deeply troubled. You were about to ask what else was going on, but he stormed out of the room to his bedroom.

You rolled your eyes, whispering to yourself, “Can’t wait until this shit is over with.”

~~~

The next day In-ho tended to the VIPs while you worked on other matters. Despite your strained relationship with him, you knew he interacted with the VIPs alone on purpose to keep them away from you, and you were silently thankful.

You were running things as usual when the guards discovered the missing diving gear. Since the glass bridge game had just ended, In-ho joined the guards on the boat while you stayed on the island.

After watching the glass bridge game you were infuriated Sang-woo was still alive. You made sure he got the worst plate at the final players dinner. As the dinner was about to begin, you heard on the radio that the intruder had been spotted with In-ho and guards going after him. You decided to meet up with them to provide backup.

As you made your way outside, you heard on the radio that In-ho and the guards had cornered the intruder to a lookout spot. Immediately you thought of your favorite outdoor spot, and you knew exactly where to go. You heard a gunshot just as you exited the premises.

You were almost to the spot when you heard a second gunshot. You picked up the pace and all but ran to your spot. As you got closer you noticed In-ho near the edge with the guards gathered further behind him. In-ho was looking out to the ocean, the intruder nowhere to be found.

You approached the group of guards. “What’s going on?”

In-ho put his mask back on and turned to look at you. Immediately after, he collapsed.

Fear ran through your body. “In-ho!”

You rushed to his side, noticing the gunshot wound in his shoulder. “In-ho, what the fuck is going on?” You couldn’t hide the panic in your voice. You started to see his blood pool on the ground, covering a small patch of clover.

In-ho stayed silent. You knew better than to remove his mask in front of the guards.

You turned towards the guards. “Take him to our residence immediately. Do not alert anyone else of this, or I’ll kill you myself.”

A few guards carried In-ho down the mountain with you following. Once inside, they brought him to your residence and you checked in with the VIPs and the game to ensure everything was running smoothly, and more importantly that no one knew what happened with In-ho and the intruder.

You made your way back to the residence and found the guards attempting to tend to In-ho’s wounds. It was clear they had no idea what they were doing.

“Get out. You’re dismissed. And don’t forget what I told you.”

The guards promptly exited the room. In-ho was sat up on his bed, unresponsive and mask still on.

You removed his mask. His face was deathly pale and it shook you to your core. You ran to the bathroom for medical supplies. You were decently trained in field first aid. While it wasn’t the best it’d have to do for now.

You removed his coat and long sleeve shirt to reveal a plain black tank top beneath. You blushed intensely while doing so but all you could focus on was making sure he didn’t die. You first set out to remove the bullet, attempting to do so without too much pain and blood loss.

As you were fishing the bullet out, In-ho suddenly woke up and gripped your arms tightly and defensively, his face covered in fear.

“In-ho, it’s okay, it’s me.”

He looked at you, still delirious but slowly coming back to consciousness. He leaned his head back and sighed heavily.

“Just stay still. This is going to hurt.”

You began to stitch up his wound and he groaned, yelling expletives but staying as still as he could. Once you finished, you cleaned and bandaged his wound.

“All done.” You left the room and came back with a glass of water and some painkillers. He looked at you with concern as he took the pills.

You sat next to him on his bed and looked down. “I’m so sorry, In-ho.”

He eyed you. “It isn’t your fault.”

“If I was there I could’ve prevented it.”

“You wouldn’t have. Trust me.” He grabbed your hand.

You looked at him, tears filling your eyes. “You almost fucking died.”

“But I didn’t, because of you.”

You looked away, tears streaming down your face now. You couldn’t help but start sobbing.

In-ho leaned forward to touch your cheek, wiping some tears away. “Y/n, don’t cry. I’m fine now. Everything is fine.”

You looked back at him. “It’s not fine. Nothing is fine anymore.”

He sighed but stayed silent, hand resting on your cheek.

You reached forward to wipe sweat off his face with a towel. “If you weren’t here, I’d lose my mind more than I already have.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You put your hand on top of his hand that was touching your face, setting it down. “Careful. You don’t know if they’re watching.”

“Fuck them.” He raised his hand back up to grip the back of your head and pulled you in roughly for a kiss.

You were stunned. It was everything you wanted, but you were so afraid. Afraid of hurting him, afraid of getting caught, afraid you’d never experience it again.

Your lips met again and again, feverishly, as if you both were starving. You grabbed his face and pulled him in even more. He pulled your hair, causing you to let out a quiet involuntary moan.

In-ho groaned, hands grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. He pulled away, panting, and looked you in the eye. “You don’t know how long I’ve needed this. Needed you.” He stroked your face with his hands, brushing the hair out of your face.

You let out an amused breath, though some tears were still falling. “You have no idea.”

He pulled you in for a kiss again and you wrapped your arms around his neck, grabbing his hair. He engulfed you in his arms, hands running up and down your back. He quickly unbuttoned your coat, slipping it off of you and throwing it off to the side. He wrapped you in his arms again and kissed down to your neck.

You groaned and started grinding down on him, without thinking. He bit your neck and you let out a gasp, prompting you to grind even harder.

He groaned and pushed your hips down. “Fuck, y/n, you have no idea what you do to me.”

You grabbed his hair to bring his face back to yours, kissing him hard, your tongues moving perfectly together.

He groaned and suddenly leaned his head back, his face grimacing and eyelids heavy. You looked down and noticed his wound started to bleed again through the bandages.

You quickly got up and grabbed your supplies. “Fuck. I should’ve been more careful.”

He sighed and watched you fix his wound again, slightly smiling. “Don’t worry. It was worth it.”

You looked at him somberly. “I need you to be okay.”

“Y/n. I’m okay.”

You sighed, finishing up. You stood next to him. “You need to get some rest. We have to work as if none of this happened.” You gestured towards his wound.

He looked up at you, clearly fatigued. “I know, I know. Stay with me tonight?”

You sighed. You knew it was a bad idea, but you couldn’t help yourself. After over a year of having feelings for him, you just couldn’t say no.

“Alright.”

You left to change. Once you came back, In-ho seemed to have already fallen asleep. You were about to leave before you heard him say, “Y/n. Please.”

He seemed exhausted. So many questions were overwhelming your mind, about the intruder, the VIPs, what the future held for you and In-ho.

You crawled into his bed next to him, his uninjured arm curling around you. He sighed.

“Please don’t go.”

You sighed, settling in next to him. “I won’t.”

“I need you.”

“I know.”

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