#cho Sangwoo

[fear-is-truth]

CHO SANG-WOO (조상우)

₊‧꒰ warnings ꒱ ‧₊˚ soft dom!sang-woo ۶ৎ age gap ۶ৎ s1 spoilers ۶ৎ nsfw 18+ . . . headcanons ˚₊˙⋆ ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊. ˚₊‧꒰ note ꒱ ‧ i was trying to be realistic so…

PRE-GAME

۫ ꣑ৎ he takes you to meet his mother early on—this is huge, considering sang-woo is a private person, and his mother is the only family he has. so if you meet her, it means he sees a future with you. she adores you, treating you like the daughter she never had.

۫ ꣑ৎ your parents simply love him. they can’t believe their child is dating a graduate from seoul national university. it doesn’t even matter that he’s a few years older than you—they brag about him constantly. “he’s a genius,” they tell their friends. “successful, hardworking. polite, too.”

۫ ꣑ৎ if you don’t like him smoking, he promises to cut back. never smokes in your presence, doesn’t lets the scent cling to his clothes when he comes home to you. he’s careful about it, rinsing his mouth before kissing you. if you catch him sneaking a cigarette on a particularly bad day, he sighs and stubs it out before you even have to say anything.

۫ ꣑ৎ sang-woo thrives on intellectual conversations, especially enjoys debating with you, because he finds your mind fascinating.

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s a perfectionist in every aspect of his life, including your relationship. sang-woo holds himself to an impossibly high standard, and sometimes, that extends to you—he doesn’t mean to be critical, but he has expectations, and when they aren’t met, he gets frustrated. he learns, over time, to be gentler with you, to let go of the idea that everything needs to be perfect.

۫ ꣑ৎ chronic insomniac. but if you’re beside him, if your hand is resting on his chest or your leg is tangled with his, he sleeps a little easier. on nights when sleep won’t come, he watches you instead.

۫ ꣑ৎ occasionally gifts you with expensive jewellery, but nothing gaudy. real gold and diamonds—elegant in their simplicity. he prefers to see you in things with longevity that won’t lose their value. doubles as an investment piece, not just accessories.

۫ ꣑ৎ no matter how busy he is, sang-woo never forgets important dates. your birthday, your anniversary, even the day you first met. he never brings it up in advance, but he always has something special planned.

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s disciplined, wakes up at the same time every day, drinks his coffee black, works for hours without rest. but for you, he bends—just a little. if you want to sleep in, he lets you, only sighing fondly when you roll over and wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his back. “five more minutes,” you moan, and against his better judgment, he stays.

۫ ꣑ৎ not outwardly possessive, but he is a bit controlling. he won’t tell straight up dictact who you can and can’t see, but he will casually criticise them if he thinks they’re a bad influence. he won’t demand your location either, but will insist that you check in with him, just so he “knows you’re safe.”

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s very reliable (until he isn’t) at first, he’s the perfect lover. calls when he says he will, never forgets your birthday or anniversary, handles things efficiently. but as his debts mounts and pressure builds, there’s a certain tightness in his jaw when money is mentioned. he won’t talk about it. he won’t let you in.

POST-DEBT

۫ ꣑ৎ not emotionally available, prefers to keep things bottled up. when sang-woo is stressed, he withdraws into himself.

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s haunted; the investment failure eats him alive. gradually becomes distant, distracted, and hates when you ask questions about his finances. sang-woo lies—first to you, then to himself—because the truth is unbearable.

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s frustrated at himself, but it manifests in other ways—he snaps over small things, withdraws from conversations, goes through more cigarettes per day.

۫ ꣑ৎ still tries to take care of you. he won’t let you pay for things, even if he can’t afford them. he’ll miss meals before letting you notice that money is tight. his pride is too big to let you see how bad things have gotten.

۫ ꣑ৎ he hates that you don’t leave; he wants to tell you to go. you should be with someone who isn’t drowning in debt and in constant fear of the police. but he can’t bring himself to say it. instead, he avoids you, keeps you at arm’s length.

۫ ꣑ৎ if you ever found out about his debt, the man would break down—nobody is supposed to know. not his mother, especially not you. if you find out and don’t leave? he’ll be both relieved and devastated, because you should leave. and yet you don’t.

۫ ꣑ৎ he debates leaving you “for your own good.” he genuinely thinks you’d be better off without him. if you catch onto his self-destructive tendencies and reassure him that you want to be here, he just stares at you like he doesn’t understand why.

NSFW

۫ ꣑ৎ not the type to outright deny you, but when he’s teasing, it’s in an excruciatingly nonchalant manner. he’s busy, he says, without even looking up from his laptop. too much work, too little time—yadda yadda. he makes you wait, makes you impatient, until he finally shuts his laptop and pins you to the mattress as if he hadn’t been ignoring you for the past hour.

۫ ꣑ৎ doesn’t experiment much, because he knows what works and doesn’t see a reason to change it. but if you want to try something, he won’t shut it down, either. he’ll simply raise an eyebrow, consider it for a second, and say, “if that’s what you want.”

۫ ꣑ৎ doesn’t talk much in bed, but because he doesn’t see the point. he’s focused, too busy paying attention to you to bother with unnecessary words. at most, you’ll get quiet groans, maybe a low, approving hum if you’re particularly responsive.

۫ ꣑ৎ mostly vanilla sex. no elaborate kinks, except for the occasional bondage using ties (but it’s more for effect). he likes routine, and that applies to the bedroom too. sang-woo knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly how to get the reaction he wants out of you.

۫ ꣑ৎ when he’s stressed though, he gets rough; burying his face in your neck as he fucks you like he’s trying to forget everything else.. not intentional, just a byproduct of the pressure he’s under. afterward, when he realises how rough he was, he’s gentle again—hands smoothing over your skin, lips pressing on your temple as an apology.

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s a soft dom!!!! and you’re his pillow princess, whether you intended to be or not. he prefers to the one doing the work.

SQUID GAME

۫ ꣑ৎ he’s shocked to see you there. horrified, even. sang-woo was ready to do what it takes to win, but you weren’t supposed to be here.

۫ ꣑ৎ will not let you slow him down. sounds cruel, but sang-woo is in survival mode. he will help you, but only as long as it doesn’t jeopardise him.

۫ ꣑ৎ if it comes down to a split-second decision—you or him—sang-woo doesn’t want to think about what he’ll choose.

۫ ꣑ৎ tells himself he doesn’t afford to love you under the deadly circumstances. but when he closes his eyes, all he sees is you.

pic creds to AESTHCORE_276 on pinterest

 fear-is-truth 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[nooloo-the-frog]

this is very humerous i chuckled at this

$23.45

[megsvway]

gihun with some suspiciously boyfriend-shaped cats hmmm

[carnalcrows]

TEACHER'S PET - SANGWOO

pairing: professor! sangwoo x student! bottom male reader

synopsis: A struggling college athlete strikes a risky deal with his professor, unaware of the secrets lurking beneath the surface.

content warnings: 18+, age gap (reader is 21 and sang-woo is in his 40's), teacher x student, cheating, blood, unprotected sex, breeding, creampie, reader is a himbo and is slightly muscular.

word count: 2.5k

The classroom was quiet, save for the rhythmic tapping of Professor Cho Sangwoo’s fingers against his desk. You were only half-paying attention, your gaze drifting to the window as he continued his lecture on financial markets—whatever that meant. Numbers weren’t exactly your thing, and honestly, you were just waiting for class to be over so you could hit the gym.

“Since you all love talking so much, let’s see if you actually understand today’s lesson,” Sangwoo announced, his voice smooth yet carrying an edge of boredom. He scanned the room, eyes narrowing slightly before landing on you. “You.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?”

A few chuckles echoed in the lecture hall, but Sangwoo ignored them. He leaned casually against his desk, adjusting his tie. “I asked what the three main types of financial markets are.”

You blinked, your brain scrambling for anything resembling an answer. “Uh… stocks?”

Sangwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s one.”

“Um… crypto?”

Someone in the back actually snorted. You gave them a glare before looking back at Sangwoo, who only smiled, but not in a nice way. “Stay after class,” he said simply before moving on to another student.

You slumped in your seat. Great.

When the lecture finally ended, your classmates trickled out in pairs and groups, leaving you alone with your professor. You adjusted the strap of your sports bag and walked up to his desk, scratching the back of your head.

“Sir?” you said hesitantly. “Uh, about earlier—”

“You’re failing my class.”

That was the first thing he said, cutting straight to the point. His voice was calm, but there was something in his gaze that made you shift uncomfortably.

“Yeah, I figured,” you admitted with a nervous chuckle. “Numbers aren’t really my thing.”

Sangwoo just stared at you, his lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You do realize that if you fail my class, your scholarship could be revoked, correct?”

You blinked. That… wasn’t good. You needed that scholarship. It was the only reason you were here in the first place.

“But—”

“I could help you,” Sangwoo interrupted smoothly, stepping closer. “Private tutoring, after hours. One-on-one.”

“Oh, sweet! That’d be great,” you said, completely missing the shift in the air. “Man, I knew you weren’t as scary as people say.”

Sangwoo’s eyes gleamed. “Right,” he said. “Not scary at all.”

You waited in the empty lecture hall, tapping your fingers against your desk. Most of the students had already gone home, the hallways eerily quiet as the late afternoon sun cast golden streaks through the high windows. You shifted in your seat, rolling your shoulders. This felt… weird. One-on-one tutoring? You barely studied in regular classes—what were the odds this would actually help?

The door creaked open.

You turned, watching as Sangwoo stepped inside. He wasn’t wearing his usual suit jacket, just his dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. He carried his leather briefcase in one hand, and in the other, a slim stack of papers.

“You actually showed up,” he mused, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“You told me to.” You leaned back, grinning lazily. “Not really one to disobey orders, sir.”

He set his briefcase down, eyeing you for a beat too long before moving to the desk at the front of the class. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered. Then, louder: “Let’s start.”

For the next twenty minutes, he actually taught. Well, sort of. He wrote on the board, explained concepts you didn’t understand, and made you do problems from his worksheet. Your brain, slow as it sometimes was, genuinely tried to keep up. You weren’t failing because you didn’t care—you just weren’t good at this stuff.

At some point, Sangwoo moved behind you, leaning over to check your work. The weight of his presence sent a strange shiver down your spine. His voice was low, smooth, almost teasing as he pointed out your mistakes.

“Not quite,” he murmured. “Try again.”

You exhaled sharply. “God, I suck at this.”

“You suck at a lot of things,” he said, tone unreadable. “But you’re good at listening.”

Your brow furrowed at his choice of words. Before you could question it, he reached over, guiding your hand as you wrote out an equation. His fingers were steady, firm over yours. Too close.

You swallowed. The air in the room changed, thickened with something unsaid. You turned your head slightly, only to find that Sangwoo was already looking at you. His dark eyes lingered, searching, waiting.

The moment stretched.

Then, he moved.

His hand slid from yours, trailing up your wrist, your forearm. You should’ve said something, maybe pulled away, but the way he looked at you—the quiet intensity in his eyes—made your brain short-circuit.

His fingers brushed your jaw. Your breath hitched.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t gentle. It was hungry, practiced, like he had been waiting for this—like he already knew you wouldn’t resist.

Your back hit the desk, Sangwoo pressing forward, one hand bracing against the wood while the other curled around the nape of your neck. His lips moved against yours with a kind of certainty that made your stomach tighten, that made your fingers fist into the fabric of his shirt.

A quiet, broken sound left your throat as his teeth scraped against your bottom lip, as his hands roamed lower, as his body slotted perfectly against yours.

His hands went to the curve of your ass– gripping on the supple flesh as he pulled you closer into him. They trailed to the front, tugging your sweatpants off with a firm tug– making you gasp in surprise.

You looked at him with wide eyes, which only seemed to turn him on even more. He pressed his lips back onto yours before sliding one hand down your boxers, pulling your hard cock out of its confinements– the cool air making you shudder.

He turned you around so that your stomach was on the desk, and lifted your ass up– groaning at the sight of your hole puckering around nothing. He pulled out a packet of lube from his front pocket, did he come prepared for this?, before he ripped it open and spilled its contents onto your hole.

Before you could say anything, he slid the head of his cock in– eyes clenching shut at how you hole pulled him in. You gripped at the desk– having never been stretched out like this before.

“God– so tight f’me aren’t you love, “ he groans in your ear before sliding all the way in– making your back arch. “Only for you sir–” you manage to say before he pulls out and slams back in, making you scream.

He fucked into you at a relentless pace, the uncomfortable positon of your pelvis getting bruised by the edge of the table did nothing to you know. He was making you see stars.

He held you by the waist as you clenched around him– almost making it unable for him to move. You were practically milking the older man dry.

“Getting fucked by your professor for a few extra marks– what a filthy little slut you are, hm?��he mocked, getting riled up at the way you merely moaned, not being able to make sense of what he was saying. Your head was filled with the thought of his cock pistoning in you. 

It wasn’t like your head had much in it anyway.

Soon, he felt himself on the verge of a release, and came in you without warning– painting your insides a pearly white.

You came untouched, practically screaming as your cock spurted out ropes of cum onto the desk. He stayed nestled in you for a while, before slowly pulling out, his cum leaking out of your hole.

He felt himself getting hard again.

It was going to be a long session.

The next time you tried to do the homework he assigned, you realized you had learned absolutely nothing in that tutoring session.

Not about commerce, at least.

Giving up on that, you were sitting outside on the campus lawn with a few of your teammates, lazily picking at your food while the others chatted around you. It was the usual mix of locker-room banter and weekend plans, but you weren’t really paying attention. Your focus had shifted to the faculty building in the distance, where a familiar figure stood near the entrance.

Sangwoo.

Your professor looked different outside of the classroom. Less stiff, more relaxed. And, most importantly, not alone. A woman stood next to him, pretty and well-dressed, holding a little girl in her arms. Sangwoo’s hand rested on the small of her back as they talked, his head tilted slightly as he smiled at something she said. The woman laughed, leaning into him with a kind of familiarity that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

Your appetite vanished instantly. Your fingers tightened around your fork, and you barely noticed your friend nudging you.

"Yo, you good?"

"Yeah," you mumbled, already standing. "Gotta go. Be right back."

You didn’t wait for a response. Your feet moved on instinct, carrying you toward the nearest building. The second you were inside, you made a beeline for the restroom, locking yourself in an empty stall before bracing your hands against the walls, trying to steady your breathing.

Sangwoo had a wife. And a kid. A whole family.

The realization sat heavy in your gut, a sharp, sickening weight pressing against your ribs. How had you not known? Shouldn’t someone have mentioned it? Shouldn’t he have mentioned it? And why the hell did it feel like you’d been punched in the stomach?

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to swallow the rising bile in your throat. The image of him—smiling, touching her, looking like a man who had never done a single wrong thing in his life—burned behind your eyelids.

You had been in his office just last night. Had sat at his desk, let him touch you, let him pull you in like you were something he wanted. And the whole time—

The whole time, he had this? A wife? A daughter?

You turned abruptly, punching the stall door hard enough that the impact sent a dull ache up your wrist. Then, without looking at yourself in the mirror, you forced yourself back outside.

You weren’t going to think about this now. You just needed to get through the rest of the day.

Your legs still felt unsteady as you walked back across the campus lawn, but then—

You slowed down. Two professors were chatting near one of the shaded benches. You wouldn’t have normally paid them any mind, but your name caught your attention.

“—been doing surprisingly well in my class,” one of them said. “I thought he’d barely scrape by, but it looks like he’s putting in real effort.”

“Not surprising,” the other replied. “Athletic scholarships come with pressure. He needs to keep his grades up if he wants to stay on the team.”

“True, but honestly, he’d have to bomb every class for that to even be a concern. You know how it is—sports scholarships are basically untouchable. No single professor can take those away, even if they wanted to.”

A beat of silence passed. Then the first one chuckled. “Good thing, too. Can you imagine the scandal?”

You nearly tripped over your own feet.

Wait.

Your scholarship was secure? No single professor could take it away?

Then… What the hell had Sangwoo been threatening you with?

Your stomach twisted again, but this time, it wasn’t nausea. It was anger. Cold, creeping, slow-burning rage.

He had lied to you. Manipulated you. Used you.

And you had fallen for it, like an absolute idiot.

You sat through class that day feeling like you were going to be sick. Every word out of Sangwoo’s mouth blurred together into meaningless noise, his voice grating against your ears. When he announced the usual after-hours “coaching session,” you barely registered it. The other students filed out, and you stayed seated, arms crossed tightly over your chest, muscles coiled with anger you hadn’t fully processed yet.

Sangwoo closed the door, the sound echoing through the empty room. He turned, gaze sharp as ever, and for the first time, you hated the way he looked at you—like he had already figured out exactly what you were about to say.

“Something wrong?”

You stood up so fast your chair scraped against the floor. “You’re married.”

Sangwoo’s expression didn’t even flicker. “And?”

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “And? And?! You’ve been—You lied to me. About everything.”

“Careful,” Sangwoo murmured, stepping closer. “You’re getting all worked up.”

“Yeah, because I just found out the guy I’ve been—” You cut yourself off, pressing your fingers to your temple as if that would stop the storm in your head. “Not only are you a cheating bastard, but you lied about my scholarship.”

Silence.

A beat passed. Then another.

You scoffed, the sound bitter, disbelieving. “Yeah. I figured it out. You don’t have the power to take my scholarship away, do you?”

Sangwoo sighed, tilting his head like you were a particularly slow student who had finally caught up. “It got you to comply, didn’t it?”

Something inside you cracked open.

Your fists clenched at your sides. “You used me.”

He took another step forward, his presence suffocating, the air thick between you. “And yet, you’re still here.”

He was right there, close enough that you could see the way his lips curved, the glint in his eye that told you he still thought he had the upper hand. And maybe he did—because the moment he grabbed your face and kissed you, you let him.

It was hard, possessive, like he was staking his claim all over again. Your body reacted before your brain did, mouth opening under his, heat flaring up your spine. His hands dragged over your jaw, fingers pressing just hard enough to make your pulse stutter.

But then—

No. No, not this time.

Your eyes snapped open. The haze shattered.

Without thinking, your hand darted toward the desk beside you, fingers curling around the sharp metal of a compass. You gripped it so tightly your knuckles ached.

Sangwoo didn’t even notice until it was too late.

The compass plunged into the side of his neck, and for the first time since you’d met him, he was the one caught off guard.

He staggered back, hand flying to his throat. Blood—so much blood—spilled between his fingers, staining his crisp white dress shirt. His mouth opened, a garbled, wet sound escaping as he stared at you in pure disbelief.

You exhaled, heart pounding as you looked down at him. “Guess I am failing this class.”

The room smelled like iron. Sangwoo collapsed to the floor, the blood pooling around him in a slow, creeping tide.

You stood there, breath shaky but eyes steady.

And then, finally, you turned and walked away.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[insidekatmind]

In His Hands~Cho Sang-woo

Request: yes!

You found yourself standing in the rain, your heart gripped by pain and anger. Your mother's words still echoed in your head.

"If you want to be with that man, then leave! I don’t want you in this house anymore!"

She refused to listen to reason. To her, your relationship was wrong—too much of an age gap, too many judgmental looks. But you didn’t care. You loved Sang Woo, and he said he loved you too.

So, with your bag over your shoulder and tears in your eyes, you found yourself in front of his door. Your hands trembled as you knocked, and when he opened it, his gaze was clouded with fake sadness.

"Oh, my dear…" he whispered, gently pulling you into his arms. "I’m so sorry. I never wanted this to happen."

He let you in, stroking your hair as you sobbed against his chest. His voice was soft, reassuring, and for a moment, you felt safe.

"You can stay here with me, for as long as you want."

That sentence should have made you feel relieved, but something in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t see it, but behind that compassionate expression, Sang Woo was smiling. Finally, you were all his.

You sigh and cling to him for comfort. He let you hold him tightly, his hand soothingly rubbing your back. It was almost like he was comforting a child, his voice gentle.

"There, there," he murmured, tilting your chin up gently so you looked into his eyes. "Don't cry, baby. I'll take care of you, and you'll never have to worry about anything again. You're mine now, and I won't let anyone else touch you." His grip on your chin tightened ever so slightly.You nod and look at him like he could move the world for you.

His lips curled into a small smile, seeing your vulnerable expression. He had you exactly where he wanted you,drowning in your own feelings.

He gently wiped away your tears and led you to the couch, sitting you down before taking a seat himself. He kept a strong, possessive arm around you, pulling you closer."You're safe here," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. "No one will ever hurt you again. I won’t allow it."

You nod and cling to him. “Thank you,” you whisper. He smiled, seemingly satisfied. His grip on you tightened, his hand possessively running through your hair.

"Of course," he said, his voice soft but firm. "I'll always protect you. You don’t need anyone else but me."He tilted your chin up so you were looking into his eyes. "Say it," he said quietly. "Tell me you belong to me."

"I belong to you" you whisper softly.His eyes gleam with satisfaction as you say the words, and he gently brushes your hair back, his touch lingering a little too long.

"That's right," he murmurs, his voice a little too possessive. "You're mine. You're nobody else’s."His hand drifts down from your hair to your chin, tilting it up towards him again. He leans in towards you, his face just inches from yours.

He gently runs his thumb over your bottom lip, and his gaze sharpens. The usual fake compassion is gone, replaced by raw hunger.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice betraying a hint of desire. "I’ve always wanted you. And now, you’re all mine. I won’t let anyone else take you away from me."His fingers brush against your neck as he holds your chin, his grip possessive.

[sensationallysangwoo]

𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝙸𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝙲𝚑𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍!𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙵𝙻𝚄𝙵𝙵

𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝙲𝚑𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚢, 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚜.

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗! 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃, 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃, 𝙳𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚕, 𝚂𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚄𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝙳𝚒𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎, 𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚝𝙳𝚘𝚖!𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘, 𝚂𝚞𝚋!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝙰𝚐𝚎 𝙶𝚊𝚙 (𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝚂 𝙰 𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙰𝙻 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰𝙳𝚄𝙻𝚃)

**𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚛: 𝙼𝚒𝚗-𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“Take that off. You’re dressed like a complete hoe. Why do you feel the need to show yourself off to everyone huh? I’ve never seen someone so desperate for attention. Go change now or I’m not taking your ass out.”

Your head hangs low at the words of your asshole husband, Min-joon. You’re wearing a dress you just bought the other day. You loved it on yourself in the fitting room, you really did. You felt so confident and sexy gazing at yourself in the mirror, and now, that’s all shot down due to your insecure, good-for-nothing, narcissistic husband.

Min-joon comes from a privileged background. His father is a CEO of a real estate company, and spoiled his son absolutely rotten since day 1. Min-joon never held a job and is, well, a nepo baby. At first, the relationship was okay. He complimented you, took you on nice expensive dates, held the door for you, and put on the facade of caring about you. He had you fooled for quite some time.

The two of you married due to familial pressure. He’s handsome, loaded, and could easily provide for you for life. Your mother told you it was a no-brainer and, aforementioned, he treated you alright.

However, as the two of you settled into married life, things became…sour. You noticed Min-joon would throw little digs at you here and there. “Was your stomach always that pudgy?” “I can’t go out with you with that zit on your forehead. That’s humiliating.” “You’re going to eat all of that?” Are just a few examples.

These digs evolved into full-blown arguments. Tears, stress, anxiety attacks, feelings of hopelessness and just overall a cloud of dread hanging over you any time you were inside your own home with him present.

He began to withdraw from you entirely. Barely speaking to you. Not even sleeping in the same bed as you. No hugs. No kisses. No intimacy in almost a year. It’s like you don’t even exist to him. You cook, you clean, and you do his laundry. That’s it. You’re an unpaid, live-in maid.

Bring it back to the present. Red-faced, you snap back at him. “I’ll wear whatever the fuck I want, Min-joon. K? This is the first date we’ve even attempted to go on in almost a year and you’re starting shit. I’ll just go my damn self!”

“What the fuck ever. Go be a fucking slob in some gross dive bar, I don’t care. You can go pick up some grungy guy and catch something. Have fun.” He spits back before turning on his heel and storming into the bedroom.

You grab your purse and stamp out the door, to the car, making sure to grab his credit card on the way out.

Fuck him.

You relish on the harsh words he spoke to you moments earlier, and you tell yourself that Min-joon’s bullshit is well, just bullshit. You’re not an ugly slob. You’re not a hoe for wearing what you feel confident in. You’re beautiful, stunning, sexy and sophisticated.

You’re going to go have fun on his dime without a care in the world.

You pull up to your favorite bar. Not some hoity-toity, high-end country club that you and Shithead frequent. A down-to-Earth, locally owned cozy bar that you have plenty of memories in.

Memories of laughter, smiles, and passionate short-lived flings that felt like a roller coaster ride. Happier times.

Speaking of flings, as soon as your walk through the doorway, you instantly lay eyes on him.

Cho Sang-woo.

He’s seated at the bartop, whiskey on the rocks in one hand, cigarette in the other. A grey blazer hugs his body as his glasses sit on his perfectly shaped nose.

The memories flood back into your mind. Suddenly it’s 4 years ago. You hadn’t even known Min-joon at this time.

It’s 12a.m., and you’re stumbling clumsily out of this very bar on Cho Sang-woo’s arm. You’re laughing loudly and the older man chuckles deeply. Some stupid drunken joke you made. You knew neither of you were okay to drive, but you needed somewhere a bit more private to unleash the tension that’s been plaguing the two of you all night.

The backseat of his little black sedan. Strong, veiny hands wander under your shirt. Soft lips crash onto yours, the taste of whiskey and cigarettes on his tongue mingling with the remnants of a fruity cocktail on yours.

Fingertips tangled in hair, skin on skin, blurry vision and vertigo. Moans and gasps and magnificent highs. More cigarettes and post-sex deep conversations.

You woke up on your best friend’s couch the very next day, and Cho Sang-woo was nothing but a memory.

He slurred his name to you that night, before shoving his tongue down your throat. You never exchanged phone numbers though. You searched high and low for him on social media but he definitely doesn’t have any, as he is pushing 50. He hasn’t left your mind these past 4 years. These past 4, unhappy years you’ve been yearning for the older man whose presence felt like home.

Here he is, about 10 feet away from you right this very moment. Same exact bar. Same way he was sitting back then, when you first saw him, too. Deja vu at its finest.

Your heart is beating in your neck. Should you walk up to him? Say hello? Should you act like a complete stranger? Or should you remind him of 4 years ago? His dark eyes lock with yours from across the room before you can even select an option.

Swallowing thickly, you walk over to him, zig-zagging through the noisy socializing bar patrons scattered about. As you get closer, the corners of his mouth upturn ever so slightly. That shy, barely-there smile of his never fails to make your heart flutter.

“Hey, you. What are you doing here? Haven’t seen you in a minute.” He says coolly. You can see a spark in his eyes, though. That stoicism of his is all a facade.

You swallow thickly. “I just…wanted to get out. That’s all.” You stammer, feeling small in his presence. You forgot how damn intimidating he is up close.

“Married now, huh?” He points to your left hand with a free finger, his other digits pinching the burning cigarette he’s been puffing on.

“Yeah….I can’t even believe you remember me. I mean…it’s been so long…” You trail off.

He takes a puff before pushing his glasses up. “How could I forget you? Back to that ring though. You happy?”

You couldn’t even change the subject. He’s dying for an answer. He gently sucks on his straw, waiting for your response. You know exactly what he’s trying to do.

You sigh. “To be honest with you, no. Not one bit.” You confess as you slink onto the stool next to his.

And here comes your internal struggle. You are a good hearted person. You’ve always been faithful to Min-joon despite his mistreatment of you because you simply don’t believe in cheating. You’ve always been dependable and held your word to everyone and anyone. But if someone is verbally abusing you day-in and day-out, then why should you remain faithful? The relationship is already tainted. Your mental tug-of-war is interrupted by Sang-woo passing the cigarette to you.

You take a drag, your heart fluttering at the thought of his lips being on that cigarette, too. “Okay so you’re not happy. So why are you with him? You know divorce exists, right?” He asks, inquisitively raising his brows.

“I’m just too…comfortable…I guess. I haven’t worked since him and I got together. Life is easy physically but mentally—“

“It’s shit. I know Min-joon.” He replies casually while handing the bartender his credit card.

Your eyes widen. “How the fuck do you know Min-joon?”

“Well, correction, I know his father. He finances with Joy Investments. I’ve helped him out before. Real fuckin’ dick. Can’t imagine his son is any better. Hey, thank you.” He nods at the bartender, who just set his next drink down.

“You knew we got married? How?” You inquire, shocked.

“His father was showing us all pictures of your wedding in Greece. Bragging to us all in the office saying that we could never even dream of that. I recognized your face.”

Small world, huh. Small, small world.

“Well that was all for show. He hurts me deeply every single day.” You say matter-of-factly.

A lazy trail of smoke slides out of Sang-woo’s lips. “Does he put his hands on you?”

“No…not yet at least…It’s all verbal abuse.”

“That’s just as bad.”

You can feel Sang-woo’s dark eyes on you, studying you like you’re a bug under a microscope. You’re giving him every answer he’s been dying for these past 4 years.

After hours of conversing, drinking, laughing, and flirting, it’s almost time to wrap it up. The bartender announces last call as patrons start to put on their jackets and clear out. You and Sang-woo are tipsy and his arm has found its way completely around you.

He’s hugging you close, so close you can feel his breath on your jawline. “Let’s go.” He whispers lowly in your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

Your mind flashes to Min-joon one last time. You hate him more than any other human being on this planet, and you’ve come to realize that you are completely, entirely done with him. For good.

“I can’t drive. Neither can you.” Sang-woo slurs. “I’m going to call my buddy to come get us. We’re going back to my place, if that’s okay with you.”

You nod your head almost too eagerly, your thoughts going a thousand miles an hour imagining what will happen when you arrive there.

“Hyung! How are you? And who’s this lovely lady?” Seong Gi-hun asks excitedly, beaming at his best friend and you.

“Doing well tonight, hyung. This is an old friend of mine, we know each other from a few years ago. I think I told you about her? Remember?” Sang-woo replies.

Gi-hun’s smile dramatically drops, his lips twisting and his brow furrowing as he struggles to remember. “Hm, I don’t recall. Well, nice to meet you again!”

You two duck into Gi-hun’s back seat as Sang-woo slips him some cash.

The three of you laugh and mingle on the way there, and finally you arrive at Sang-woo’s apartment. You stumble out of Gi-hun’s car, thanking him for the ride, as he smiles widely once more and gives Sang-woo a sly thumbs-up.

You two make your way up to the 2nd floor, Sang-woo’s arm wrapped around you the entire time. As soon as his front door shuts behind you, he instantly pulls you in for a kiss.

You don’t hesitate one bit. His large hand is resting on the back of your head as his other hand is on your bottom. Your arms are around his neck, hungrily smashing your lips against his.

His lips are soft and supple and his kisses are full of passion. Your tongues slip and slide against each other before you both realize you need to breathe.

Sang-woo pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours with a content sigh. “Do you want this? If not we can stop here. I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Sang-woo…you’re all I’ve ever wanted after all these years. I want you again, just like back then.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He picks you up, carrying you to his room. You’re too focused on the moment to take in the appearance of his living space. Normally you’d be picking out the details, but right now you want him and only him. Like you two are the last human beings on this Earth.

He gets on top of you, kissing you deeply once more before moving down to your next. He slowly licks and bites the sensitive skin, causing you to moan softly.

“You look beautiful tonight, my dear. However I must take this off, if that’s okay.” He breathes against your skin making every hair on your body stand up.

You nod, tangling a hand in his dark hair. He slowly peels your dress off and gently places it on the floor. He gently wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking gently, looking up at you to ensure you’re enjoying this.

Muted moans escape your lips as his warm mouth engulfs the sensitive skin of your breasts.

He kisses down your stomach until he reaches your pussy. His tongue gently laps at your clit. Your face burns red hot at the sight of him. He’s so, so fucking handsome. He maintains eye contact with you, silently seeking approval. You breathe out his name as he pleasures you. Your fingers are gently tugging at his hair as his tongue gingerly prods at your entrance. He’s soaking in the sight of you as well, lost in your beauty.

Your sweet moans are music to his ears. “L-lay down.” You choke out.

Sang-woo hesitantly stops eating you out and takes his pants off. He lays down like you told him too, and you position yourself between his legs.

You slowly rub his member through his boxers, eliciting a groan from him.

You slide them off of him and your eyes scan his cock. You didn’t quite get a good look at it 4 years ago since you hooked up in the darkness of his backseat.

It’s about 7 inches with a blush pink tip, oozing tiny droplets of precum from his excitement. You gulp before you take the tip in your mouth, sucking gently and softly. He moans lowly, his fingers finding their way to your scalp.

You become more confident as you sink your mouth further and further down his cock. You suck and teasingly swirl your tongue around the shaft. You look up at him and he’s completely lost in the sensations. “Mmm. You’re doing fucking amazing, pretty girl. Look at that face, you’re gorgeous.” He coos, stroking your full cheek gently.

You moan around his dick at the praise. You slide your mouth off of his dick for just a second, taking a little break. You lick from the base to the tip, causing him to shiver.

He grabs your chin between his pointer finger and his thumb. “Do you want me inside of you, angel?” He asks sweetly. You nod as he slips his thumb into your mouth.

You lay back down and he lines himself up with your pussy. “Last time we did this, it was a sloppy hookup. This time, I want to make love to you, sweetheart. Just relax.” He says, looking at you softly.

He slowly pushes his tip into you as your hole stretches. The feelings of pressure and slight discomfort are only temporary as pleasure follows shortly thereafter. He slids in all the way as you moan his name. “Sang-woo…”

He moans, too. His deep voice sounding angelic as you squeeze his dick perfectly. He slowly starts thrusting. Deep, long strokes that hit your cervix just right. With both of your chests heaving and your hearts hammering, your bodies connect in the most intimate way.

His dick fits perfectly in you. Your walls clench and tingle with pleasure as he fucks you passionately. He leans down and kisses you again, this time moaning into each other’s mouths. “I’ll bet you that so-called husband of yours hasn’t ever fucked you like this, hm, doll?”

“No-ah-he hasn’t. I’ve-ah-never ever felt this good before.” You moan as he pounds you harder. You both are blinded by the pleasure.

He smiles cockily. “He doesn’t deserve you, angel. You need a real man to take care of you and fuck you.”

He flips you around so you’re on your hands and knees. He slams into you from the back, gently grabbing your throat, holding it. Not choking you, but just as a sign of possessiveness.

He plows you from the back, his dick feeling deeper than ever at this angle. You swear you can feel him in your stomach. It almost hurts. You explode internally, your whole body tensing as your own climax rips through your body. You cry out, gripping the bedsheets and saying Sang-woo’s name over and over as if it were a prayer.

“Where do you want my cum, lovey?” He slams into you harder than ever, chasing his orgasm.

“In my mouth.” You say, your voice laced with satisfaction. You can’t chance him cumming inside you just yet.

He pulls out and you eagerly swallow his dick in your mouth again. You lewdly taste your own juices as you suck his dick passionately, wanting to give him the best climax he’s ever had. With a loud moan of your name and his strong hand on the back of your head, his cum coats the inside of your mouth and throat. You swallow eagerly and obediently, savoring the salty yet plain flavor.

You both feel as satisfied as ever. In the air, lust isn’t the only feeling that lingers. There’s love, care, and passion accompanying it.

You both sober up from the drinks and your sexual highs. The night progresses on and you’re snuggled up laying on Sang-woo’s bare chest as he puff’s on a cigarette. His other arm is wrapped protectively around you.

You pull out your phone and check your messages. “Has that fuckin’ asshole said anything to you?” Sang-woo asks, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“Nope. He doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

“Give me your phone for a sec. I have an idea.” He has a devious twinkle in his eye and a shit eating grin.

“Okay…..” You reply suspiciously as you hand him the device.

He quickly opens the camera app, flips it to front-facing, and deviously commands you to “Smile!”

The flash of white floods both of your faces. You’re doing more than smiling, you’re actively laughing in the photo. Sang-woo has a coy smirk on his face.

You’re both clearly naked in the photo, making it obvious what the two of you had just done. He selects your chat with Min-joon, attaches the selfie, and captions it with “She’s mine now, asshole.”

You hear the familiar “boop” sound effect of the message going through. Your phone begins to absolutely blow up with texts and calls from Min-joon, but you don’t give even half of a fuck. You power off your phone. The two of you are absolutely laughing your asses off.

You and Sang-woo are giddy and in love. You throw your arms around his neck, kissing him once more.

A week has passed, and you’ve packed up all your stuff into your car. Min-joon has been served divorce papers, and he is legally not allowed to even be in the same vicinity as you. This chapter of your life is over. You’ve come to realize that you can absolutely meet the right person at the wrong time. However, the right time will come, sooner or later.

One year later, you strut out of yours and Sang-woo’s shared bedroom. You’re dolled up in a dress for date night. “You look so sexy, my princess. So beautiful and gorgeous. Turn around.” Sang-woo gawks. Your mind flashes back to Min-joon’s hateful comments. You couldn’t be more grateful for the complete 180 that your life took.

Sang-woo kisses you, takes your hand, and leads you out the door for another memorable date night, followed by an even more memorable proposal.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Well there ya have it! Hope you loved it, Anon! Sorry it’s kinda a longer one! I’ll be working on the next request! Have a good night everyone! 🫶🖤 -G

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @trashk1tty , @torasgfreal , @dilfismz , @pulparindos , @reddead-salem , @daeholuvs , @radarbiterlover , @partyb0yyyy , @nicki-lovesolderfictionalmen , @sawlover353 , @m4nbl00d , @swtt4hk , @shoujoify , @chosangwooswife

[justlous-art]

happy valentine's day!

[angelseraphines]

me when the trope is friends who are brothers in every way except blood but the younger one betrays the older one and the older realizes he has to kill the younger for the sake of others knowing it will kill his soul to do so 💔💔

[headless-doe]

I swear the Squid Game fandom has no media literacy. Sang-woo didn’t kill because he was desperate and his life depended on it. He did it because when people who wear glasses take them off, they become evil.

[blissfulbluee]

i wonder if the rain is different to gi hun now? i wonder if he sees it and thinks of sang-woo? i wonder if he feels it and knows thats what sang woo felt as he died? I WONDER-

[judamars]

Thinking about how Gihun absolutely wanted Sangwoo to end the game with him and come out of it alive together, but how Sangwoo was already suicidal and dealing with depression and so when he realized he had put up all this fight against his very own hyung, the man he cherished during his childhood, the reality that the world is truly fucked up had finally settled in and that drove him to complete his own suicide.

“Im sorry hyung” was not because he fought Gihun or tried to kill him, Sangwoo knew Gihun would have forgiven him, but he also knew that if he took Gihun’s hand he would have had to live with that fact for the rest of his life and he’d be even more alone than he was before. And he was sorry that he had to make Gihun bear witness to the loss of his childhood friend, because he knows how much Gihun loves him.

Gihun was probably one of the only people that reached out to him while he was going through his depression and on the run. What would you do if you were forced to kill the only person who supported you during your darkest moments? Youd feel so much guilt and shame it would eat you alive. And thats why Sangwoo stabbed himself. It fucking hurts me man ugh

[messyroomhappyheart]

sangwoo is gay i’m not hearing anyone else out about this ‼️ it’s all in the subtext ‼️

[degenerata69]

I'm thinking about the fact that Gi-Hun took Sang-Woo every day to school.

Imagine, they met at the playground, Sang-Woo was tiny and weak, so it wasn't difficult to win against him in physical games. While most kids looked down upon someone who is younger, Gi-Hun integrates Sang-Woo to his friend group so they'd continue playing.

Despite a one year difference, they ended up in the same grade, Sang-Woo skipped a year given how smart he was. This, however, would make him an easy target for bullies, so Gi-Hun would take it upon himself to protect him, both in school and out of school.

While he personally wasn't a "nerd" and didn't take his education as serious, he recognized the potential Sang-Woo and wanted to ensure a bright future for him. Every morning, he wakes up early to be at the front door, waiting for Sang-Woo to walk with him to school. Once they get out of school, they play for a few hours and come back.

Most days, they would end up eating at each other's house, they'd have sleepovers, during the weekends, they'd play all day until their mothers called them for dinner.

Regardless of the occasion, Gi-hun would always make sure for Sang-Woo arrive home safe, before returning to his house.

They'd keep the routine even when Sang-Woo was strong enough to defend himself. They enjoyed each other's company, and it was all that mattered.

[thesunssin]

Once more to see you as sangihun

( Edit done with very limited editing skills I’m so sorry😭 I just thought this song fits them so well and was shocked to see no one edited them with this, so I did! even if my editing skills aren’t good!)

[meowquill]

who made this im going crazy whoever made this kiss me on the mouth no tongue though

[insidekatmind]

More than enemies-Cho Sang woo

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

The conflict had become your daily bread. Every day, every interaction, was a new opportunity to challenge each other, to throw sharp jabs, to ridicule each other. Neither of you ever gave in. The silence was tense, but it was soon shattered by another exchange that seemed to never end. The room, though small, felt too big to contain the tension between you and Sang-woo.

“You really don’t understand a damn thing, do you?” Sang-woo huffed, crossing his arms with an air of superiority. “Do you think I’m talking to please you?”

You didn’t even need to respond right away. You knew there was no reasoning with him, but his words always hurt, more than you ever wanted to admit. “I don’t care if you’re talking to please me,” you replied coldly, “but maybe you should learn to respect people instead of thinking they’re beneath you.”

Sang-woo laughed, but it was a laugh full of contempt. “Respect? Have you ever wondered why I don’t respect you? Maybe because you don’t deserve respect.”

His words stung, but you weren’t going to back down. “Maybe you should look at yourself in the mirror, Sang-woo. Because all I see is a man who’s trying to look bigger than he really is.”

The others, sitting in the corner of the room, were enjoying the spectacle of your constant back-and-forth. Gi-hun was the first to laugh, amused by the way you two were challenging each other like a pair of wild animals ready to pounce. Ali, with his always genuine smile, looked confused but intrigued by the situation. Sae-byeok, on the other hand, observed silently, her sharp gaze tracking every move, every word, as though it was a chess game where you two were the key pieces.

“Look at them, looks like they’re putting on a show,” Gi-hun whispered, but loud enough to be heard. “There’s more tension here than in one of our games.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them breaks down,” Ali added, chuckling. “They’re so used to fighting, I don’t think they can stop.”

Sae-byeok lifted the corner of her mouth, watching intently, as though she was trying to figure out where this dynamic would lead. “There’s got to be something more to it,” she said seriously. “It’s not just hate.”

You could feel your blood boiling, the anger burning inside, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. “Yeah, sure, as if you’re the only one here with a brain,” you replied, but the sarcasm in your voice didn’t hide the frustration eating away at you.

Sang-woo, however, wasn’t backing down. “You don’t get it, do you? That’s exactly what pisses me off about you. Always acting tough, but underneath that hard exterior, there’s just a bunch of weaknesses.”

Your heart felt like it was going to burst, but before you could respond, Gi-hun threw a glance between you and Sang-woo. “Okay, guys, enough, we can’t be here all day watching you two fight,” he said, his tone joking but a little nervous, as if he was trying to calm the situation. “Please, at least let us breathe.”

Ali chuckled. “I think we’ve just witnessed a new form of psychological torture.”

Sae-byeok remained silent, but a small smile crept onto her face as she watched the way you both provoked each other, as though she was taking mental notes for something that might come in handy later.

But you knew, despite everything, it wasn’t over. The war between you and Sang-woo would never end. It didn’t matter how much you hated each other. It was too deep, too ingrained. And you both knew it.

After a while you get the guard to take you to the bathroom and sang woo follows you. Since the bathrooms were unique for both males and females.You were washing your hands when you heard his voice.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk on his face.“You don’t need to hide in the bathroom to avoid me, you know,” he said, his tone a mix of mockery and amusement.You turn around, looking at him boredly. "Now a person can't go to the bathroom because otherwise it will make your head go up" you say approaching him.

Sang-woo chuckled. "Oh, come on, we both know that’s not what I meant." He didn’t flinch as you got closer; the smirk on his face only seemed to intensify."Besides, you’re not exactly subtle," he said, tilting his head to one side. "It’s almost pathetic, the way you try to avoid me."

Your blood boiled at his words, but you kept your cool, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you get worked up. "I’m not avoiding you," you replied, your voice tinged with irritation. "I just find you absolutely insufferable."

His smirk grew wider, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Oh, please, you’re not fooling anyone." He took a step closer, closing the distance between you two. "The way you glare at me, the way you snap at my every word, it’s clear that I get under your skin," he said, his voice low and taunting.

You backed away instinctually as he stepped closer, but you quickly regained your composure, refusing to let him get the upper hand. "Don’t flatter yourself,” you retorted. “You’re not the first arrogant, overconfident prick I’ve had to deal with.”

Sango woo looks at you and grabs you by the neck pushing you against the bathroom wall. “careful how you talk little girl” Sang woo says looking at you as his grip on your neck tightened.

Your heart jumped at the sudden physical contact and the way he pressed you against the wall, his grip around your neck tight and threatening. "What, you can't handle hearing the truth?" You retorted, trying to keep your voice from quivering, even as his grip tightened, making it harder to talk.He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "You really enjoy pushing my buttons, don’t you?"

You tried to stand your ground, ignoring the way your heart raced in your chest and your breath caught in your throat, but the close proximity to him and the grip he had on your neck made it difficult to think straight. "At least I'm not afraid to be honest, unlike some people," you manage to say, glaring up at him defiantly.

Sang-woo’s grip tightened even more, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully, as if to punish you for your stubbornness. He leaned in even closer, his face only inches from yours now, his gaze intense and unyielding."Honesty, huh?" He huffed, his voice a low growl. "Or perhaps you’re just too stupid to know when to keep your mouth shut."

Sang-woo’s eyes widened slightly as your hand touched his arm, and his grip on your neck loosened just a bit. He noticed you looking at his lips, and for a brief moment, it seemed like something passed between you two, an almost electric energy flowing through the air. He held your gaze, his expression still hardened, but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes, a hint of surprise and perhaps a shadow of something else.

Sang woo kisses you roughly without saying anything. The kiss took you by surprise, Sang-woo's lips pressing against yours roughly, demanding and controlling. You felt a mix of shock and defiance, but something deep within you responded to the kiss, a desire you'd never wanted to admit being ignited. For a moment, everything else melted away, the tension and animosity that always hung between you two seemed to vanish. There was just the two of you, the feel of his lips on yours, the firm grip of his hand on your neck.

You moan softly and try to hold on to him. Sang-woo's lips moved from your lips to your jawline, your neck, creating a trail of kisses that sent shivers down your spine. He pushed you harder against the wall, his grip around your waist tight and possessive. The sound of your soft moan seemed to awaken something in him, a feral hunger that made his actions more urgent. "You’re mine now," he whispered against your skin, his voice raspy and possessive.

You moan and give him more space as you look at him longingly. Sang-woo’s eyes darkened with desire as he pressed himself against you, his body molding to yours in a way that felt both dangerous and intoxicating. He moved his hand from your neck to your face, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, his touch almost caressing. "You’ve been mine since the moment we met," he whispered, his voice rough with a possessive edge.

Your breath hitched at his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew the truth in them, even though you’d always denied it. There was something about him, a darkness and intensity that called to something deep within you. His grip on your waist tightened, and he pulled you even closer, his lips against your ear. "Say you’re mine," he demanded, his voice low and seductive.

“I'm yours,” you whisper, clinging to him, kissing his jaw. Sang-woo let out a low moan as your lips touched his jaw, his hand on your waist sliding up to your back, pulling you even closer.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He caught your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his eyes dark and hooded, his breath fanning across your face.

He takes off your sweatpants and underwear and quickly unwinds you and turns you gently against the wall, entering you, making you both moan. “So tight,” he whispers in his ear as he pushes into you. You moan and lean into him and Sang woo nips at your neck, making you moan lo

“You make such beautiful sounds” Sang woo whispers as he places his hands tighter on your hips fucking you harder.

“Sang woo” you moan loudly as you lean against the wall and he grunts. Sang-woo growls lowly, the sound sending a jolt through your body. He pushes you harder against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, his hands roaming over you possessively.

"Say it again," he demands, his lips moving down to your neck, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin. "Say my name again."

“Sango woo” you moan even louder feeling his thrusts increase. Sang-woo lets out a guttural moan as you say his name, his grip on you tightening almost to the point of pain.

"That’s right," he breathes, his voice ragged, barely coherent as he continues to move against you, his desires taking over all reason. "Moan my name, let me hear you." Every sound you make, every gasp and moan drives him wilder. He can hardly control himself, the primal need to claim you, to make you his and only his, is all-consuming. His lips move back to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites, marking you as his.

He bites down on a sensitive spot on your neck and you let out a yelp of pain, but he just laughs against your skin, the pain adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations. Sang-woo's body is pressed tightly against yours, his muscles rippling with the effort to hold himself back. He can sense he’s on the edge, his breath ragged and his heart pounding.

"You're going to make me lose control," he mutters against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone. His hands roams over your body, leaving burning trails wherever they touch. He grabs onto your hip, his fingers digging into your flesh, as if he's trying to brand you with his touch.

He pushes his cock into you even harder making you both cum. At that moment Sae byeok, Gi hun and Ali come in since they were worried that you hadn't come back. And when they see the scene Ali giggles. “Finally,” Gi-hun murmurs.

Sang-woo freezes, his body still pressed against you as Sae-byeok and Gi-hun appear in the doorway, their expressions a mix of surprise and disbelief. It takes a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in, and a wave of shame and embarrassment washes over both of you. Ali laughs heartily, clearly finding the entire situation amusing. "Looks like we were right!" he exclaims.

Sang woo covers your body with his. “Go away” Sang woo murmurs who was still inside you.

Gi-hun and Sae-byeok exchange amused glances, but both of them seem to realize the gravity of the situation. "Alright, alright, we'll go," Gi-hun relents, grabbing Ali's arm and heading for the door. "You two behave yourselves."

Ali's laughter trails behind him as they exit, leaving you and Sang-woo alone once again, but this time with the aftermath of what had just happened.