#cho sang woo fanfic

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ million dollar man ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ cho sang-woo x girlfriend!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! this story takes place in an alternate ending for squid game where sang-woo wins instead of gi-hun! 🤍

˚ ༘♡ it had been over two weeks since you last heard from cho sang-woo. no calls, no texts, not even the smallest acknowledgment of your existence. the silence weighed on you, growing heavier with every passing day. sang-woo, your long-term boyfriend, the man you had imagined spending the rest of your life with, had seemingly vanished without explanation.

˚ ༘♡ he was everything you had dreamed of, handsome, intelligent, educated. in your eyes, he was near perfect. you had moved to south korea a year and a half ago. the two of you met only a month after your arrival in seoul. you were standing at a convenience store counter, struggling to buy an iced coffee before work. the cashier’s words blurred into a language barrier you couldn’t break through, leaving you flustered and embarrassed.

˚ ༘♡ then there he was. cho sang-woo, with his neatly pressed suit and square-rimmed glasses, stepping in to translate with a calm assurance that immediately put you at ease. he went further and insisted on paying for your coffee, brushing off your protests with a polite smile. “you can pay me back with your number,” he had said, his tone light but his warm gaze unwavering. you gave it to him without hesitation, your heart racing as he walked away with a casual, confident stride that lingered in your mind for days.

˚ ༘♡ what followed was akin to a fantasy. your first few dates were sweet and unassuming, dinners at cozy restaurants, walks through bustling markets, late-night phone calls that stretched into the early hours of the morning. before long, it became more than casual. he wasn’t simply a charming man in a suit, he was someone you trusted, someone you leaned on. yet, as your relationship deepened, so did the flaws.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo treated you well in many ways. he insisted on paying for meals, even when you protested. he offered to help with rent when he noticed you were stressed about expenses. his job at joy investments afforded him a lifestyle of financial stability, one that he willingly extended to you. however, beneath his polished exterior, there was an undeniable distance.

˚ ༘♡ it started small, little things that nagged at you but seemed too insignificant to bring up. his phone was always locked, the screen flashing dark whenever you glanced at it. he would leave suddenly, without warning, offering only vague explanations that never quite satisfied your curiosity. “work,” he would say, brushing off your questions as though they were irrelevant. and no matter how many times you pressed him for the truth, he never admitted anything.

˚ ༘♡ those moments of secrecy chipped away at your trust, leaving an uneasy ache in your chest. you told yourself it was nothing, that you were overthinking. but the fights that erupted when you brought it up told a different story. his calm facade would crack, and he would grow defensive, his words sharp and cutting. “don’t you trust me?” he had asked more than once, the accusation in his tone a slap in the face.

˚ ༘♡ despite the arguments, despite the unanswered questions, you loved him. you loved the way he smoothed a hand down your back when you were upset, the way his voice softened when he called you by name. you loved the rare instances of vulnerability he let slip, the heartfelt glimpses of the man beneath the polished exterior. you loved him enough to forgive, enough to overlook the secrets that cast shadows over your relationship.

˚ ༘♡ as you sat alone in your apartment, staring at your phone with an empty inbox mocking your worry. two weeks of silence was unbearable. the man you loved, the one who had promised to protect you, had left you with nothing but questions and a ache where his presence used to be.

˚ ༘♡ the doorbell rang, cutting through the quiet of your apartment as though it were a sharp blade. it wasn’t merely unusual, it was unsettling. who would come at this hour? you glanced at the clock on the wall, its glowing numbers reminding you that it was well past midnight. your stomach churned uneasily as you stood up, your fatigue from a long shift at the café clinging to you.

˚ ༘♡ working from sunrise to sunset every day had worn you thin, but you had refused sang-woo’s offers to help you financially. he had already done so much, given so generously, and the thought of taking more was crossing a line you couldn’t bring yourself to breach. it would be an abuse of his kindness.

˚ ༘♡ the hallway was dark as you approached the door, your bare feet silent on the cool floor. you hesitated before unlocking it, your hand hovering over the latch. “hello?” you called out cautiously as you cracked it open, peering into the dimly lit corridor.

˚ ༘♡ before you could register what was happening, a hard shove sent the door crashing into you, knocking you backward. you stumbled, barely managing to catch yourself against the wall. your heart leapt into your throat as the figure who had forced their way inside quickly shut the door behind them.

˚ ༘♡ your confusion turned to disbelief as the light from your apartment fell on their face. it was sang-woo.

˚ ༘♡ his chest heaved with each labored breath, his shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned at the collar, his dress pants scuffed and slightly torn. his glasses, the ones you always teased him about for making him look too serious, were nowhere to be seen. instead, his face bore the evidence of recent hardships, bruises, faint scars, and scabbed-over cuts that marred his formerly pristine appearance. even his hands, the ones you’d grown so used to seeing holding a pen or a glass of wine, were scratched and battered.

˚ ༘♡ he looked like he had aged years in the short time he had been gone.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo,” you stammered, your voice unsteady with equal parts confusion and fear, “what the hell are you doing? it’s the middle of the night, and… why haven’t you been answering my calls?”

˚ ༘♡ he opened his mouth as if to respond, but the words didn’t come immediately. instead, he leaned against the door, his shoulders slumping as though the weight of the world was pressing down on him. “i…” he started, his voice hoarse and raw, but he seemed unable to finish.

˚ ༘♡ without warning, he crossed the room in a single stride and pulled you into a tight embrace. his arms wrapped around you with a desperation that felt almost suffocating, his head burying into the crook of your neck as he clung to you.

˚ ༘♡ you stood unmoving, the shock of his sudden appearance warring with the affection of his touch. part of you was relieved beyond words to have him back, while another part was angry. angry at his disappearance, at the unanswered calls and texts, at the fear and doubt he had left you to wrestle with.

˚ ༘♡ “i missed you,” he murmured against your shoulder, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

˚ ༘♡ his words tugged at your heart, but they weren’t enough to quell the storm of questions brewing inside you. “sang-woo,” you said, your voice softer now but still laced with frustration, “what’s going on? where have you been? what happened to you?”

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t answer right away, his grip tightening, as though the very act of holding onto you could keep him grounded. his breath was unstable, his chest rising and falling against yours in a way that betrayed the turmoil beneath his silence. the room felt oppressively quiet.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo!” you exclaimed, your voice sharp, desperate for clarity. the sound seemed to jolt him, his body stiffening before he reluctantly pulled back.

˚ ༘♡ his hands were shaking as he reached into his pocket, the movement clumsy and hurried. when he withdrew, he thrust a thick stack of cash into your arms, one hundred million won, neatly bound and unnervingly out of place in your modest apartment. the weight of the money startled you, as you stared at the crisp bills in disbelief.

˚ ༘♡ “listen to me,” he said, his voice shaking but steadfast. “after this, after i take care of everything, i’ll buy us a beautiful home. somewhere quiet, somewhere safe. hold onto this for now.”

˚ ༘♡ you blinked at him, your mind struggling to process the sudden shift, the money heavy in your grasp. “sang-woo,” you said, your tone rising with vexation and confusion, “where did you get this money?”

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t answer, his eyes avoiding yours, and that only fueled your frustration. “tell me!” you demanded. “where have you been? do you have any idea what I’ve been through? i thought you left me for another woman or fled the country!”

˚ ༘♡ his jaw clenched, his expression fading as guilt flashed across his face, but he said nothing.

˚ ༘♡ you pressed further, your voice strained with a mix of hurt and fury. “i talked to your mother. she said you haven’t called her in ages! i went to your work. they haven’t seen you in weeks! your friends? same thing. no one knows where you’ve been!” your hands tightened around the cash, your knuckles white as your chest heaved with the distress of your tone. “how could you do this to me? how could you leave without a word, without an explanation?”

˚ ༘♡ his silence hurt more than any words could have. he looked at you, his expression a painful mix of regret and something darker, something you couldn’t place. his lips parted as if to speak, but he hesitated, the words caught somewhere between his chest and his throat.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo,” you whispered, your voice trembling as tears began to sting your eyes. “please. i need to understand.”

˚ ༘♡ “i’ll tell you everything soon, i promise, sweetheart,” sang-woo murmured, his voice unsteady, as if it pained him to speak. his hand, calloused and trembling, reached out to rest gently on your cheek, his touch delicate. your heart ached as you met his gaze, those dark, exhausted eyes glistening with unshed tears. it was a look so raw, so unfamiliar.

˚ ༘♡ “you have to trust me,” he said, his tone soft but pleading. “you have to listen to me. i’ve already given you what you need to cover your expenses.” his hand lingered against your cheek for a monthly moment before falling away, his fingers curling into a fist at his side. “i have urgent legal and business matters to deal with, but once they’re resolved… we’ll have the life we’ve dreamed of. everything we’ve talked about.”

˚ ༘♡ his lips brushed against your forehead, the kiss light but filled with a quiet desperation that made your chest tighten. “nothing could ever keep me from you,” he breathed, the words barely audible. “promise me you’ll do as i ask.”

˚ ༘♡ everything about this felt wrong, the way he avoided your questions, the haunting exhaustion in his voice, the bruises that lined his hands and face. you wanted answers. you wanted to demand he tell you everything right then and there, but the way he looked at you, so broken, so unlike the composed sang-woo you knew, kept you from saying anymore.

˚ ༘♡ uncertainty clouded your mind, nonetheless you nodded, your voice hardly above a whisper. “i promise.”

˚ ༘♡ his shoulders sagged slightly at your answer, the tension in his body loosening, though not entirely disappearing. “good,” he said softly, almost to himself. he was still nervous, his eyes darting toward the door as though expecting someone to burst through at any moment.

˚ ༘♡ “i have to go,” he said, his voice tinged with reluctance. “but i’ll come back. i swear, okay?”

˚ ༘♡ “okay,” you replied, unsure but unwilling to push him further.

˚ ༘♡ he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting, tender kiss that left you yearning for answers. then, without another word, he turned and left the apartment, closing the door behind him.

˚ ༘♡ you stood there, the silence of his absence pressing down on you, dread engulfed your thoughts. your mind churned with questions, with doubts, but one thing was certain, you were relieved, no matter how strange the circumstances of his return, to have seen sang-woo again. the agonizing ache in your chest told you that his departure had left you with far more questions than answers.

a/n: my first sang-woo fanfiction!! is it controversial for me to say i love his character and he’s my favorite one in squid game? please let me know if you have any requests! 🤍

[carnalcrows]

satin

genre: smut

pairing: sang-woo x male!reader

CW: unprotected sex, cum as lube, somnophilia, slight-dubcon, feminization, anal sex, creampie, breeding, gaslighting, reader wears a dress (above image), the term [y/n] is not used

word count: 1.1k

The dining hall glimmered with cold grandeur, the pristine white tablecloths and shining silverware at odds with the blood-stained memories of the glass bridge. The four of you—Sang-woo, Gi-hun, Sae-byeok, and yourself—sat around the table, silently picking at the extravagant meal.

Sang-woo’s gaze kept drifting to you, and you could feel it like a weight pressing against your skin. You didn’t dare look up, too focused on cutting into the steak on your plate.

The dress.

The satin clung to you in ways that made Sang-woo’s throat dry, the slit revealing just enough of your thigh to drive him to distraction. It had been Sae-byeok’s dress originally, stark white against the deep hues of her bruises, but she’d been visibly uncomfortable in it. You had offered to switch, slipping into it with a shrug and a teasing grin, downplaying how strangely empowering it felt.

Now, Sang-woo could barely focus on the food in front of him. The cut of the fabric, the way it rose slightly when you shifted, the curve of your collarbone illuminated by the dim lighting—it was torture.

“You’re not eating much,” Gi-hun said, raising an eyebrow at Sang-woo.

Sang-woo’s jaw tightened, his fingers gripping the fork a little too hard. “Just not hungry.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sae-byeok muttered under her breath, her sharp eyes flicking between him and you. Gi-hun smothered a laugh with his napkin.

Sang-woo shot them both a warning glare but said nothing, focusing instead on finishing his wine in a single, sharp gulp.

The night wore on, and eventually, you all returned to the living quarters. The empty bunks and the echoes of the fallen competitors made the space feel colder, lonelier. Gi-hun and Sae-byeok whispered in hushed tones at one end of the room, their conversation punctuated by the occasional chuckle.

You, however, wandered to the farthest corner, away from the others. The dress, though elegant, wasn’t designed for comfort, and you tugged at the hem as you curled up on one of the bunks. The fabric rode up your legs as you shifted, exposing more skin than you intended. Exhaustion quickly overtook you, and you drifted off.

Sang-woo returned from the bathroom, his steps quiet on the concrete floor. His gaze scanned the room, landing first on Gi-hun and Sae-byeok, who were still deep in conversation, then on you.

His breath caught.

The way the dress hugged your body, the faint rise and fall of your chest as you slept—it was intoxicating. His feet moved on their own, carrying him closer to where you lay.

He stopped a few steps away, his heart pounding as his eyes traced the length of your legs, the hem of the dress barely covering anything. You shifted in your sleep, and the fabric rode up higher, revealing more of your thighs.

Sang-woo’s jaw clenched. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the sharp pull of desire mixed with guilt. He told himself to walk away, to stop staring, but he couldn’t.

He crouched down, his hand hesitating in the air for a moment before brushing his fingers across your exposed thigh. His fingers lingered for a fraction of a second too long, the soft texture of your skin sending a jolt through him.

“You shouldn’t tempt people like this,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible.

His hands travelled farther and farther up your dress until they reached the hem of your underwear. He had to stop; he had come too far. But as he pulled your boxers down, the whimper that escaped your mouth due to the cool air hitting your inner thighs – sealed your fate.

He hoped to God that Gi-hun and Sae-byok were well out of earshot, and he slowly pushed his pants down, revealing his throbbing erection.

He pushed your thighs together, and slowly slid his length between them. The tightness of the gap made him let out a groan, which he quickly stifled. He shouldn’t wake you up.

He thrust in and out slowly, with his cock often rubbing against your own length. You on the other hand, twisted and turned, oblivious of what was happening to you.

As Sang-woo reached his climax, he couldn’t help but let out a rather loud groan, releasing on your thighs with a shudder.

You stirred at the sound, your lashes fluttering open. Your eyes met his, bleary with sleep and lust  but quickly sharpening with awareness.

“Sang-woo?” you murmured, your voice soft and hoarse.

He froze, caught in the act. But instead of backing away, he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your cheek.

“You make it hard to focus,” he admitted, his voice low and rough.

Your lips quirked into a small, sleepy smile. “Good.” The stickiness on your thighs said enough. You were too far gone to think about the sanity of the situation.

The glazed look in your eyes did something to the man. He hoisted your legs up in a way that his cock was resting right at your ass. Before you could protest, he slowly slid his tip in, making your head hit the pillow. “Wait– what about lube-” you gasped, only to be interrupted by him slamming his entire length into you.

You shuddered, you were stretched beyond your capacity, but it felt so… good? He was slowly rocking in and out of you, while your hands desperately clutched the pillows, trying to redirect the pain elsewhere.

He brought your knees to your chest, eliciting a squeal from you. Your hand quickly went to cover your mouth. What if the other two had heard you? 

“Honestly, what did you expect? You walk around in that tight dress of your’s, swaying your hips for everyone to see. You thought I wouldn’t notice?” To this you could only mumble out incoherent words behind the palm of you hand, the new angle making his cock hit your sweet spot with every single thrust. 

“Pleas–se, slow down–”, you whimpered, to which he only chuckled. “Learn to take it, you whore. It’s your fault for walking around in this dress and thinking that no one wants this tight pussy of yours.”

Calling your ass a pussy igniting something inside of you. Noticing this, Sang-woo sped up his thrusts, whispering the dirtiest things in your ear. He removed one hand from your ankle, and brought it to your cock, slowly jerking it off, much slower to his cock pistoning in and out of your hole.

“I’m gonna–”,” I know darling, come with me”, he groaned, as both of you climaxed at the same time. You ruined your pretty dress, while he stained your insides white.

He stayed like that for a few minutes, catching his breath, before slowly pulling out of you, before shifting your positions do that you were on top of him.

You slowly closed your eyes, sleep embracing you all over again.

Meanwhile, across the room, Gi-hun  nudged Sae-byok, his expression unreadable. “Told you he’s obsessed,” he muttered, earning a grunt from the latter.

“I’m scared of gay people.”

“You’re just saying that because your girlfriend died.”

“Shut up.”

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

[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.

[sensationallysangwoo]

𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔: 𝒮𝓊𝒷!𝒞𝒽𝑜 𝒮𝒶𝓃𝑔 𝒲𝑜𝑜 𝓍 𝐹!𝒟𝑜𝓂!𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒮𝓂𝓊𝓉

𝒴𝑜𝓊’𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒹𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝓊𝓈𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒷𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝑒𝓃𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝒸𝓉 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓎. 𝒰𝓃𝒷𝑒𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌𝓃𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒾𝓉’𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓈𝑜 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓎.

𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮: 𝑀𝒟𝒩𝐼!!! 𝒞𝒽𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔/𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎, 𝒹𝑜𝓂/𝓈𝓊𝒷 𝒹𝓎𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾𝒸, 𝒶𝒹𝓊𝓁𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉, 𝓈𝓁𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒮𝒶𝓃𝑔 𝒲𝑜𝑜 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒴𝒪𝒰 𝒜𝑅𝐸 𝒪𝐹 𝐿𝐸𝒢𝒜𝐿 𝒜𝒢𝐸

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

You sighed kicking your shoes off after entering the front door. Between listening to those fake bitches at work pretending to like each other and rude customers in your face all day, you had just about had it.

You checked the time. 4:30. About a half an hour before Sang Woo comes home from work. You can’t wait to see him, feel him, touch him, taste his lips. Rant to him about your day and receive that oh so familiar princess treatment you get every second of every day.

You got in the shower and as soon as the warm water hit your skin you felt all of your worries melt away. The smell of your favorite soap added to the relaxation of it all.

You stepped out of the shower and dried off and put your fluffy robe on.

Sang Woo’s footsteps thudded up the stairs and your heart skipped a beat. You’re so in love with him that he still makes you as nervous as the day you went on your first date together.

“Princess. I’m home. Are you up here?” He called out, his deep voice echoing through the upstairs hallway.

“In here baby! I just got a shower.”

Sang Woo enters the humid bathroom and sees you brushing your hair in front of the mirror. You turn around and crane your neck up to give the tall man a kiss on the lips.

The feeling of his soft lips on yours sends a shock of electricity to your heart and well….your pussy. God he’s so fucking handsome. The smell of his cologne mixed with cigarettes drove you wild.

“I missed you so much today.” You purred, looking up at him.

“I missed you too, my love.” He replies, looking down at you. You felt his eyes wandering and your cheeks burn. He smirked. His eyes began to develop that hungry look he gets when he’s excited.

His large hand strokes your cheek, then trails down your neck, to your chest.

“May I, princess?”

“Go ahead baby.”

He carcasses your breasts with one hand inside your robe, the other tugging at the sash.

His lips meet yours once more, kissing you deeply. His tongue pokes at your bottom lip and you let him in. You savor the head rush of kissing the man you love more than anything. The man who makes your insides burn with passion and desire. The man who makes you drip down your thighs and think about the most filthy obscene things a human mind can think of.

After kissing him deeply for a few minutes you let go. You tug at his crisp white shirt collar. Suddenly an idea fills your mind. Your lips curl into a smile. A wide smile.

“Take this off for me, whore.”

Sang Woo freezes. His eyes widen.

“Whore?”

“I said what I said. Take it off.”

Sang Woo had never ever submit to you. Or anyone. Ever. But alas, there is a first time for everything. You dreamed of dominating him and using him as your own personal fucktoy. The evenings that he would work overtime, you would desparately cram your fingers into yourself on the bed, thinking about him coming undone underneath you like some sort of whore.

You want to see that calm, cold demeanor crack. You want to make this way older man your bitch. This tall, strong, stoic, prestigious businessman, a moaning, whimpering bitch underneath you.

Sang Woo grows painfully hard at the crude nickname. He wants this too.

“Y-yes Y/N.” He stammers, taking off his shirt.

You both move to the bed and you push him down. Climbing on top of him, you grind yourself down on his nice dress pants, your wetness seeping into the fabric.

His breath hitches and he watches you through half hooded eyes.

“You gonna be a good boy for me, Sang Woo?”

Still speechless, he nods as you grind down harder on the huge bulge through his pants.

“Use your words, bitch.” Your hand reaches up to his throat, wrapping your fingers around it and squeezing gently.

“P-Please Y/N, a-ah let me…fuck you.” He’s blinded by the pressure of your wet hot pussy on him. The layers of clothing providing the worst most inconvenient barrier ever.

You stop grinding. You look him deep in the eyes. “What did I say? I asked you a question. Now answer it.” You command through gritted teeth.

“Y-yes I’ll be good for you Y/N. Just please do something please.” He whined.

If you were strong enough to rip his pants off, you would have. However you undid his belt, slid it out of the loops and folded it twice over and kept it in your hand. That doe eyed look dawned on Sang Woo’s face once more.

You slid his pants down , then his underwear, and finally his dick could be free. Swollen and red, absolutely gushing clear pre cum.

You barely, just barely graze the folded belt up and down his hard cock. His expression of fear made your pussy ache.

“What does my dirty little slut want me to do to him first hm?”

“S-Suck it please. Please Y/N I need it so bad. I need you so bad I’ve been—“ he begins to babble.

“Shut the fuck up.” You replied coldly.

You bring the belt down onto his thighs. You hit him, but not hard enough to break skin. He gasps. More pre cum oozes from the tip of his dick.

He fucking loves this. For some reason in the deep dark depths of his mind, he always wanted to be treated like property. It was his sickest most fucked up fantasy that he would never ever tell a soul.

His chest is rising and falling rapidly and his cheeks are flushed pink. He needs something, anything. You bring the belt down again, the soft flesh of his thigh ripping under the blow.

“You look like you’re gonna fucking cum just from me beating the shit out of you. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Not even Sang Woo can answer that question. And yes, he felt his orgasm building already. What the fuck is wrong with him?

You lean down and lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. His whole entire body shivers. He moans for the first time ever in front of you. And it’s loud.

You gently take just the tip of it in your mouth and he forcefully grabs your hair, shoving you down onto his dick and gagging you. Immediately you shut that shit down. Your head snaps up. You bring your face to his and grab a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look you in the eye.”What the fuck was that? Keep your fucking hands off of me brat.”

He nods obediently.

“Because of that little stunt I’m not even going to suck your cock. Too bad.”

Instead you slam yourself down on his cock as hard as you possibly can without breaking it.

Another deliciously loud moan from Sang Woo’s mouth fills the room. You start bouncing up and down on it, the slapping of skin and the squelching of your juices mixing with his fills the room.

You grab his hair again, pulling his head back and looking in his eyes again as you slam all your weight down on him and his cock. “You like this you little bitch? If only you could see yourself right now. What would your friends think of you being fucked like a bitch at home?” You bring your hand down on his beautiful face, lightly slapping him.

“T-they’d think I’m a filthy whore. I’m yours Y/N. I-I’m your filthy fucking whore.” He barely gets the sentence out in between moans.

You wrap the belt around his neck and pound him some more. His dick is hitting all the right places inside you. You can literally feel him in your stomach.

“Sang Woo…cum for me…cum for me right now.” You demand. Your moans are growing louder as well.

His eyes roll back and every muscle in his body tightens immediately.

You feel yourself clench around him, pleasure ripping through your whole entire body as you cum all over his dick. You feel the comforting warmth of his huge load shooting inside of you too. He came so much it was dribbling out of you onto his own balls.

Sang Woo is visibly trembling after his orgasm. That was the biggest one he’s ever had in his whole entire 46 years of life. Panting filled the room. You didn’t want to get off of him but he was softening inside you quickly. He looked up at you gently, a sheen of sweat coating his perfect features and his jet black hair clinging to his forehead. You lean down and kiss your husband deeply on his lips.

“That was fucking amazing.” He mumbles between breaths. “Thank you Y/N. I’ve always wanted you to take control like that. That was the hottest experience ever.”

You chuckled. “You’re welcome my angel.” He looked so dopey and fucked out. He was drunk on you and you ate that up. You love him with all of your heart as he does you.

“Come on, let’s get you all cleaned up and I’ll get you fed.” You say to him sweetly. He smiles his signature shy smile. “I Love You Y/N. I really, really do.”

He says those three words very rarely, but when he does, you know he means it sincerely.

“I Love You too Sang Woo.”

[burningembers91]

What Makes You Happy - Cho Sang-Woo x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Biggest Regret

Synopsis: You confront Cho Sang-Woo about why he left. But when he has questions of his own, you can’t seem to answer them

You had a boyfriend now. Some American businessman who’d settled in Seoul after successfully expanding his marketing business. Sang-Woo had seen you a few times together, leaving restaurants and shops, smiling and holding hands.

He remembered when he used to make you laugh, when he’d hold your hand and pull you close, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. He’d never been overly good with words, had never been able to properly express emotion, but somehow with you, it came so naturally to him.

He’d tried to avoid you, had stopped going near the places the two of you had once frequented. But for some reason, everywhere he turned, you were there. You made eye contact a few times, your face falling every time you saw him.

Sang-Woo was working at his mother’s market stall now, spending his days filleting and gutting fish, coming home each day stinking of fish and regret. You’d come by a few times, and he’d always managed to sneak away and avoid seeing you.

You loved Sang-Woo’s mother like your own, and could never fully let her go, even after her son had abandoned you.

He was gutting a salmon one day, his hands and forearms caked in blood when you arrived. His mother was out, and he had nowhere to hide.

“Hello,” you said, your face stony and cold as you looked at him. Gone were his sharp suits and expensive briefcase. He was now wearing a faded t shirt and jeans, his glasses perched on his nose, his floppy hair falling into his eyes as he worked. Your heart still ached when your saw him, your stomach still flipped when you looked into his eyes. Despite the heartbreak he’d put you through, your body still responded to him like it had done when you were together.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked, his eyes not meeting yours. He was ashamed, ashamed of how far he’d fallen. “We have salmon on special offer today.”

“I’m not here for the fish, Sang-Woo,” you sighed. “I’m here for answers. You owe me that much.”

You knew he’d been running away whenever you turned up, had seen him hightailing it out of the market as you arrived. It was like he had a sixth sense; he always knew when you were nearby.

“Now isn’t a good time,” he muttered, indicating the blood and guts that covered his hands.

“I don’t give a shit!” You snapped, your eyes bright with tears. “You left me! I loved you so much, Sang-Woo, and you left me like I was nothing to you. Why? If you can’t tell me anything else, at least tell me why.”

You were wearing a green dress today, the colour complimenting your skin beautifully. Even when you were angry, even when tears stung your eyes, you were so stunning.

“I had money problems,” he croaked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“What kind of problems?” You were shocked, almost speechless. You’d spent two years assuming he’d found someone better than you, that he’d left because you weren’t good enough for him. You tortured yourself, went on every diet imaginable, changed your hair, your makeup and clothes to try and figure out what type of person you should be. But to find out he left because of money, it floored you.

“I had debts. A lot of debt. I had debt collectors knocking on the door, they were threatening to repossess my belongings. They were going to take our home, we’d have been out on the streets. I couldn’t do that to you. I left because you deserved better than me.”

You both stood staring at each other, the hubbub of the market behind you drowning out the pounding of your heart.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about it?” You finally said, when you’d had time to wrap your head around his bombshell. “You didn’t think to tell me so we could sit down and work out how we were going to fix it?”

“There was no fixing it!” Sang-Woo yelled, slamming his fists down on to the metal countertops. “Even now, two years on, I have debts that I can’t pay back. I can’t get a house, I can barely feed myself. I didn’t want that life for you.”

“That wasn’t your choice to make!” You were yelling now too, your argument drawing attention from nearby stalls. “We were supposed to be a team, we were supposed to work things out together!”

His heart was racing, his breath ragged as he tried to control his emotions.

“Would you have stayed with me?” He asked, his voice now lower. “Knowing we’d be homeless, that I couldn’t give you the life you deserved. Would you have still stayed with me?”

Tears streaked down your pretty face, your lip trembling as you nodded fiercely. “I would have gone to hell and back with you,” you whispered. “I only ever wanted you. Even if we had to live in a cardboard box, I only wanted you.”

Now you were both crying, years of regret, heartbreak and anger swirling through the tension between you. Sang-Woo had been a fool to let you go, and now he was paying the price.

“Does he make you happy?” He asked you, his voice hoarse with tears. “Does he treat you well?”

“He treats me very well,” you nodded, knowing he was talking about your new boyfriend, the one with the bright blue eyes and shaggy blonde hair. The one who cared for you, and loved you.

“Does he make you happy?” Sang-Woo repeated.

You closed your eyes, your lashes wet with tears as you willed yourself to turn and walk away. It had taken you eighteen months to get up the courage to date again, and Jason was nice enough. He was a little cocky, a little stern, and he didn’t have the best sense of humour, but he treated you with kindness. But he did make you happy? He didn’t make you laugh like Sang-Woo did, didn’t make your whole body burn with desire when he fucked you like Sang-Woo had. He didn’t hold you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, didn’t make you feel like you were an unstoppable force of nature, not like Sang-Woo did. But he was kind to you. And you’d tried to hard to tell yourself that was enough.

“Does he make you happy?” Sang-Woo asked again, his voice more urgent this time.

You couldn’t answer him, couldn’t tell him that Jason didn’t make you happy, not like he had.

“Goodbye, Sang-Woo,” you smiled sadly, turning around and disappearing into the crowd.

He ran after you, pushing past people in the street as he tried to find you. But you were gone, melted into the sea of shoppers. He searched frantically, running down side passages and alleyways until his lungs burned in his chest.

When he returned to the market stall, his mum was about to shout at him for leaving her shop unattended. But she saw the hurt in his eyes, saw the way his shoulders slumped as he walked.

“He doesn’t make her happy, mum,” he whispered. “She couldn’t tell me he makes her happy.”

“Oh, son,” his mum sighed, opening her arms to him. Sang-Woo towered over his mother’s petite frame, and yet she hugged him with such force that he felt safe for the first time in years.

“How do I fix this?” He asked between sobs, his head buried in his mums shoulder like he did when he was a boy.

“I don’t know if you can,” she said. “She was broken when you left.”

He didn’t know how long he stood there, his mum stroking his hair and soothing him as if he were a child again. You couldn’t tell him Jason made you happy, and that broke him even more. He’d pushed you away, pushed you into the arms of a man who couldn’t give what you needed.

You looked so sad when you left, so broken. He needed to fix things, even if he wasn’t sure how.

As he lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling he wondered if you were thinking of him. He wondered if you thought of him when you were with Jason, if you pictured him when the two of you were making love.

You said your boyfriend didn’t make you happy. So maybe Sang-Woo could win you back. Maybe he could show you that he’d changed, that he wouldn’t ever run away again when things got tough. He’d regretted leaving you. He wouldn’t allow himself to regret not fighting for you.

[hotchshands]

Trophy (Sang-woo x gn!reader) Part 1/2

Masterlist | Taglist | AO3

Summary: Sang-woo wins the games, and you become his young new trophy wife. Not to worry though, Gi-hun is alive thanks to the frontman.

Word Count: 1.9k

Contains: lots of plot, dark!sang-woo featuring ptsd, gn!reader, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, depictions of violence i.e., sang-woo killing gi-hun?

A/N: S2 made me miss him, so I decided to write something. Had to break this up into two parts cause it’s a lot, but I’m happy to add more if y’all want.

Sang-woo wakes up in the new penthouse he bought far away from home and looks over at you, sleeping soundly on the bed beside him. He wasn’t sure why he married you, but then he remembered the games and how they turned him into a murderer. Some might even say a total psychopath. Having been through hell, he knew he couldn’t just marry anyone. He had to be extremely careful with his choice.

You were his best option if he wanted someone to stay with him and overlook the things he did for 45.6 billion won. You were young, poor, desperate, and, best of all, completely bendable. Sang-woo took advantage of that and shaped you into his ideal partner. You made it easy. He knew you were perfect from the moment he met you in the train station all those years ago.

“Excuse me. Do you know if this train is going uptown?” Sang-woo asks a young-looking stranger on the platform.

The stranger turns to look at him, blushing upon seeing him standing there, towering over them in a grey suit. “Yes, this is the uptown train,” you reply.

Sang-woo noticed your flushed complexion. You looked scared and nervous. He decided then and there that he liked that look on you—the way your cheeks were red, the way your eyes never met his, instead focusing on his statue rather than his face, and the way your body stirred upon seeing him. For a moment, he thought you had seen right through his facade, seeing him for the madman he truly is rather than the genius everyone else saw him as.

Were you scared or intrigued? Sang-woo couldn't decide.

The train pulls up to the platform with a stretch. The sound reminds him of the games, making him zone out. Your voice brings him back to reality: “Are you alright?” Sang-woo snaps out of it and looks over at you. You look genuinely concerned.

He smiled slightly, pushing his glasses up before answering, “I'm alright. So? Shall we?” Sang-woo motions for you to board the train. You board the train without a second thought. Sang-woo follows you inside the train car. Once inside, he tells you to sit down while he stands in front of your seated form, holding onto the railing. You didn't question him or try to protest, foolishly trusting a stranger. Pathetic. Just like Gi-hun, Sang-woo thought to himself.

He wondered about Gi-hun from time to time. A part of him thought he might have survived the final game, but there could only be one winner.

“It's over. I won't let you leave here with that money,” Gi-hun said, holding the steak knife, determined to win, to beat Sang-woo. He was always stubborn, so much so that it clouded his judgment. He never knew when to admit defeat.

Sang-woo wasn't going to let him quit. They were too far into the game to just walk away without the prize money. Not only did quitting mean no money, but it also meant that those 454 people died for nothing. It meant that he killed people for nothing.

Gi-hun walks towards Sang-woo, knife in hand, and attacks. Sang-woo dodges the attack and manages to grab hold of Gi-hun. He holds him tightly, bringing the knife closer to his face, but Gi-hun cuts his wrist and escapes Sang-woo's hold, causing Sang-woo to drop his knife. Gi-hun wastes no time and attacks, cutting Sang-woo's cheek before kicking his knife across the field. Frustrated, Sang-woo takes off his suit jacket, using it to force Gi-hun to drop his knife. Both, now unarmed, rush toward each other, pushing and fighting in a fiery of agony as the rain falls down upon them and the court.

After a few punches, Sang-woo gets Gi-hun in a chokehold, which Gi-hun escapes from, only to have his suit jacket torn off his back. This is it, Sang-woo thought to himself before towering over Gi-hun's exhausted body, bringing the suit jacket up around his neck. “Die!” Sang-woo says as he chokes Gi-hun with the jacket. “Die!” he says once more, but Gi-hun is stubborn.

“Get up! Get up!” Sang-woo yells, trying his hardest to end this once and for all. As soon as the two stand up, they fall backward on the sand. Sang-woo grows exhausted, and Gi-hun grows confident as he moves away from Sang-woo's chokehold.

The rain continues to fall as the two return to fighting it out, both determined to end the final game. Sang-woo grabs a knife off the wet sand and stabs Gi-hun in the leg, then again in the stomach. Gi-hun groans in pain.

Sang-woo kicks him in the face, causing Gi-hun to fall onto the sand in the middle of the squid-shaped court. “You remember this place?”Sang-woo begins. “This is where they made us play Red Light, Green Light. Everyone who was standing here is dead now. Everyone... except for us, Gi-hun.” He kicks him in the face again before continuing, “We've gone too far to go back now.” With that, Sang-woo stabs Gi-hun. The knife is met with Gi-hun's hand in protest.

“Clause Three of the agreement. The players are able to end the game when the majority agrees. So, if we both give up now, we can end it,” Gi-hun cries through the pain of the knife in his hand.

“When we were kids, you and I would play like this, and our moms would call us to dinner. No one's calling anymore,” Sang-woo sighs as tears form in his eyes. He pulls the knife out of Gi-hun's hand with force before stabbing him a final time. Gi-hun bleeds out slowly. “Sang-woo... my daughter, Ga-yeong... please, look after her and Cheol. I promised her I would look after Cheol,” Gi-hun sobs before finally admitting defeat.

“Gi-hun... I'm sorry,” Sang-woo sobs as the speaker announces player 456 has been eliminated.

You get up from your seat on the train before saying goodbye to the strange man in front of you. “Well, this is me.” The train comes to a stop, and the doors open. As you turn to leave, Sang-woo snaps out of his daydream and grabs hold of your wrist before placing a card in your pocket. “Thank you,” he says.

You weren't sure why the man was thanking you. All you did was confirm he had the right train. You nod anyway, to be polite, before exiting the train car. As the train doors close, you turn to see the man is already looking at you. Strange, you thought as you watched him leave the station.

When you get home and take off your coat, you notice something fell out of your pocket. You bend down to pick up a card. You stare at the number on it, wondering how it got there. Remembering the strange man on the train, you decide to call the number. After three rings, someone picks up.

“Hello?” The voice says.

“Hello. I uh think you might've given me this number. Who is this?” you reply.

The voice lets out a chuckle, “Yes, I remember. You're the one from the train. My apologies for not introducing myself. I'm Sang-woo.”

So it was that strange man from earlier, you thought before speaking into the phone and introducing yourself to the man known as Sang-woo. The man repeats your name back as if trying to memorize it.

“I have a proposition for you. If you're curious, I'd like you to meet me tomorrow night. Before you come to a decision, check your other pocket. Should you agree, there's a lot more where that came from,” with that Sang-woo hangs up.

My other pocket? You grab your jacket and look in the other pocket to find $1,000 cash. Huh?! You count the money to be sure before holding it up toward the ceiling light. It was real. Before you can debate the money further, you hear your phone ping. You pick it up to see a text from an unknown number that reads a location and a time. That had to be him. Sang-woo...

The next day, you rush around your apartment looking for something to wear to meet Sang-woo. The location he sent you looked to be that of a park so you didn’t need to dress fancy, but you wanted to leave a good impression. The man could be a psycho planning to kidnap you for all you know, yet he gave you $1,000 which made you think he could be trusted. You still couldn’t understand why give a stranger that much money. The man was clearly rich. especially given that suit he was wearing yesterday, but why not donate it or give it to someone who needed it more? You weren’t exactly well off financially, but you had a roof over your head and a paying job so you couldn’t complain.

After making a mess of your closet, you pull an outfit that pleases you. Hopefully, this pleases him. You grab your belongings, including the money he gave you, and leave to meet Sang-woo at the park. Once you arrive, you check the time on your phone: 10:02 PM. Where is he? Just as you start to think about heading back home, you see a shadow walking toward you in the distance.

“Sorry, I'm late. Please have a seat,” Sang-woo motions to the park bench. You sit down beside him and take in his appearance. He looks polished in his white button-up and thick black coat, but his eyes tell a different story. Behind the glasses, he looks emotionless, almost evil. He pulls out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one before continuing, “I'm glad you showed up. I'm sure you're wondering why I brought you here, so I'll cut to the chase.”

“Wait,” you interrupt him, handing him the money he gave you. “Here. This is yours.”

He stared at the money, taking another drag from his cigarette without daring to take it. “Keep it. I gave it to you, so please keep it.”

You make a motion for him to take it, refusing to take his money when you don't need or want it. “No, really, I can't take it. It's too much.”

He stares at you with those piercing eyes, “Keep it.”

You return the money to your pocket, refusing to argue with the strange man and focus on the ground because those eyes terrify you. Perhaps he really was here to kidnap you.

Sang-woo takes one last drag before throwing the cigarette on the ground and stomping it with his foot. He then reaches into his pocket to pull out a black box and a wad of cash before facing you, holding out the two things in front of you. “You can walk away with more money or marry me. You can only pick one. One makes you richer. The other makes you even more rich. Pick one,” he says, opening the black box to reveal a diamond engagement ring.

You blink in confusion at the options being presented to you. Without even thinking, you feel your hand move toward the ring. It was a beautiful ring, one everyone dreamed about. Your hand touches the top of the black box, pinky meeting the skin of the man holding it. You're not sure what made you pick the ring. Perhaps it was the excitement of a new life or the idea of never worrying about money again.

Sang-woo smiles, putting the wad of cash back in his pocket before placing the ring on your finger. He slides it on slowly, gently brushing the metal further down your finger until it reaches the end. “Good choice.”

↳ part two coming soon༉‧₊˚✧

[sshadow-heartz]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

•Squid Game C.AI bots here!

🤍Cho Sang-Woo x Player!Reader

🤍With one more game to go, Sang-Woo doesn’t like your odds. He loves you enough to know that you don’t need to continue suffering, taking things into his own hands…

🤍Word Count: 1.2k

🤍Tags: Angst, Murder, Slight Gore?, Glass Shard as murder weapon, Stabbing,False Hope, Betrayal

•masterlist

‼️If you are sensitive to the tagged topics, please keep scrolling!‼️

It had been a long day. After a dangerous game of glass stepping stones, you had watched player after player fall to their death. Only three of you remained - Sang-Woo, Gi-Hun and yourself.

Retreating to your bed, you looked up at the ceiling, the large piggy bank sending a soft, golden glow over the room. It had to be almost over, right? There were only three of you left, surely there were no more than two games to go.

You sighed, thinking of everything you would be able to do once winning. Pay off your debts, get a drink with your friends…

Start over.

Your thoughts were interrupted by footsteps, and you turn your gaze towards the sound. It was just Sang-Woo, you had grown to become fond of the man during your time. You had been apart of the same team, alongside Gi-Hun, Ali…

Painful memories crossed your mind, Ali was gone. He wasn’t coming back. You had to move on, no matter how tough it felt.

“Quiet in here, huh?” Sang-Woo’s voice speaks up, drawing you away from your own mind. He was stood above you, a few scrapes across his face from the glass tiles exploding. Dark eyes studied yours, his own expression unreadable. You could never tell what he was truly thinking.

“Yeah… it’s weird without everyone else here,” you shrug, the room holding a strange eeriness without the hundreds of players that once resided with you. “How many more games do you think there are?”

He stayed quiet, thinking. “One… maybe two? That’s my guess. Just a little longer and we’ll all be out of here and way richer than we ever were, too.”

You smiles, nodding at his reassurance. “Yeah, you’re right,” you nod, patting the space on your bed for him to sit down.

Taking a seat, Sang-Woo keeps his hand in his pocket, the other reaching forward to rest on your thigh. His thumb strokes your skin through the fabric of your pants, looking down at you with a slight hint of softness. “You’re coming for a drink with me and Gi-Hun, right? When we get out of here?”

“Of course,” you smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Settling into comfortable silence, you allow your eyes to slip closed. You could feel Sang-Woo’s hand on your thigh, a small comfort in such a place. The two of you had grown close rapidly, you admired him. He was smart, and confident and seemed to know what he was doing. All of that lured you in, made you desperate to win his affection. He had seen you during the dalgona round, working ever so calm despite the shootings around you. He knew you would fight to survive, and he wasn’t sure if he loved you for it, or hated it.

Sang-Woo looked down at you, eyes closed and breathing steady. He couldn’t work out if you were sleeping, though it’d be best if you were…

Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Gi-Hun across the room, taking a much needed nap. He turned back to you, sliding his hand out of his pocket. He glanced down, eyeing the object he had been keeping so secretly.

A glass shard, sharp and easy enough to stab someone with. He took a breath, steadying himself and his nerves. Sang-Woo had decided you needed to go nights before, a long thought-out choice. He theorised the final game would be between the three of you, some sort of direct competition against each of you. Sang-Woo knew there could only be one winner, one player who takes the amount home.

You had become a distraction to him, his feelings overriding his logic. You were beautiful, strangely optimistic after what you had been through, and gosh, he… he loved you. He knew that if you faced against him, he would let you win. Let you walk away with the money, and a better life. No, he needed that money for himself. It’d be him and Gi-Hun. He could take down his childhood best friend, surely…

Sang-Woo leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A sick and twisted act of love before enacting his wicked plan. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, smiling up at him as though he’s the most wonderful man in the world. He wasn’t, not that you needed to know that.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered, trying to make it easier. You wouldn’t struggle, or cry or yell. He didn’t want you to view him as a monster. In a way, he was doing something good for you. What if you suffered in the next game? What if you had to watch him die? No… that wouldn’t be an option for you. You’d have the peaceful way out, all thanks to him.

“Lay with me?” You ask, softly. It was such an innocent request, he couldn’t deny you. Laying down behind you, he wrapped an arm over your waist, pulling you against his chest. “You’re safe with me,” he lied. “Nobody will hurt you.”

Both laying in silence, legs tangled together, Sang-Woo waited for you to begin drifting off. He had to wait for the right moment, he didn’t want you to fight him on this. You wouldn’t realise it was for the good of things. His mind replayed everything you had told him. You were in severe debt, over a million won. You had nobody out there, no family, no friends. Loan sharks were waiting to get you.

It was no life for anyone. Even if you paid off your debts, you’d still be alone. There was no way you’d all make it out alive. He knew that, he wasn’t dumb. He, on the other hand, had plenty to return to. He could get himself out of debt, though his reputation would still be ruined. He could give money to his mother, have enough to live comfortably. Yes, Sang-Woo knew he needed to survive. It’d be better for him than it would be for you.

He leaned down, face nuzzled against your neck. A final moment of comfort, his arm wrapped around you tightly. He had the glass shard ready and waited, concealed in his free hand. Gi-Hun was still sleeping, nobody paying close enough attention to him or to you.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Before your half-asleep mind can process his words, Sang-Woo digs the glass shard into your stomach. He continues to hold you close, your blood pooling on the bed. He strokes your hair, whispering soft comforts to you.

“Shh, just let it happen. Its for the best, you’ll see that.”

You cough and choke, unable to say anything as the light drains from your eyes and blood pools into your mouth. You felt pain, and nothing more than that. A white, hot blinding pain as the room began to dim. You were tired, so… so tired. It’d feel so good to close your eyes right now.

As Sang-Woo felt you go limp in his arms, a small tune played over the speakers, a voice ringing out.

“Lights out! All players must return to their beds.”

As the lights shut off, Sang-Woo closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths to calm his shaking hands. One more game, he repeated in his mind. One more game…

[k1mbe3rly]

pls do cho sangwoo twt links

since you asked so nicely 😘

Cho Sangwoo twitter links

thrusting up into you

sitting on his face

tying and blindfolding him

making the bed shake

fucking you thru your panties

floor sex

breeding you

giving you what you want

getting your brains fucked out

There’s always time for more

[honestlynervousnut]

Raise your hand if u would read a Sangihun fic in 2025 🙋🏻‍♀️I wanna see them hands

I have the idea im just debating whether to start writing it or not🤷🏻‍♀️

[dean-samw67]

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Gut Feelings pt1? Just For The Night - 😈

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[angeldiarybook]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐨 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦

• 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦

•𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧

•𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

• 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐲 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬

•𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚

•𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

•𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

• “why is there a business man smoking outside your store?” 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

• “oh that’s just sang woo” 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

• “my brother is one of his clients he usually comes here during this time to buy a pack of cigarettes to smoke” 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

• 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠…𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧

•𝐇𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦

•𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦

• 𝐇𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚

• 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

• 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

• “you know smoking can damage your lungs” 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬

•𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦

• ‘why is this young woman bothering me’ 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

•“and how would that affect you in any way?” 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞

• “you seem like a wise man just wouldn’t want anything happening to your health ” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚

• “is wise just a positive word of calling me old” 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

•𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞

• “you’re strange…I like that” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐥𝐲

• 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧

•𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥

•𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

• “well I believe and hope I’ll see you more often” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

•𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

• “hey old man” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲

• 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

• “you mind if I eat with you?” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰

• “well I’m not going to stop you nor will it be a bother” 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝

•𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦 !

• 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

•𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐢��𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲

•𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦

•𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

•𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 , 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞,𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬

• 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

• 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐛 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

• 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤

•𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

•𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

• “is there something wrong?” 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

• “you don’t look so old anymore ” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭

•”sorry I mean you look more youthful with out your glasses” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞

•𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞

• “you look handsome with and with out your glasses” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦

• 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

• 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦

•𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨

•𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

•𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡

• “ you look like an idiot with that grin on your face” 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

• 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭

• “you’re just hating on me” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

• “I can tell you really like sang woo” 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

• “see you’re smiling!you make it so obvious” 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭“no I don’t” 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦

• “so you do like him?” 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮

•𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

•𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦?

• ‘do I like him…no,definitely!’

This man made me cry in 2021 for betraying Ali 😡 and made me hate him for killing sae byeok

But I can’t disagree when people call him the most realistic character in squid game 😔

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ sad girl ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ cho sang-woo x girlfriend!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! this story takes place in an alternate ending for squid game where sang-woo wins instead of gi-hun! there is also a part one to this story, million dollar man! 🤍

˚ ༘♡ one week had passed since your boyfriend, sang-woo, reappeared in your life under strange circumstances that made your blood run cold. for two agonizing weeks, he had vanished without explanation. then, he returned, battered and hollow-eyed, his face bearing scars that seemed etched not only into his skin but into his very soul. he had come to your door clutching a bag of cash, his body trembling, his clothes soaked with sweat. “wait for me,” he had whispered, his voice hoarse and desperate. you promised you would, and so you did.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t stop replaying that moment in your mind, every detail a puzzle you couldn’t solve. had he been involved in something criminal? was he tangled in debts or worse? the thought that he might be ensnared in something far beyond your understanding consumed you. the sight of him, standing there, so broken and afraid, haunted you. you didn’t want to believe he was in danger, but deep down, you couldn’t dismiss the fear.

˚ ༘♡ then, this morning, a text came through on your phone. it was brief, offering no answers, only an instruction, “come to my house.” no explanation, no reassurance, merely a summoning. the clock had barely struck six, but you didn’t hesitate. sleep clung to you as you threw on the white, wool coat he had gifted you months ago for your three-month anniversary.

˚ ༘♡ the streets were quiet, the morning air biting at your skin as you made your way to his home. every breath a battle against the anxiety clawing at your chest. when you reached his door, it swung open almost immediately.

˚ ༘♡ before you could say a word, he pulled you inside, his movements quick, the door closing behind you with a soft click. the air inside was warm, contrasting the chill outside, but it did little to ease the tension in your body.

˚ ༘♡ “you’re here,” he murmured, his voice low, and then his lips kissed your cheek, cool and brief, a gesture that was both familiar and foreign. the touch left your skin tingling, not with comfort but with unease. his eyes lingered on you, their usual sharpness dulled by something you couldn’t place, something sinister.

˚ ༘♡ you stepped back from him, your voice trembling but firm. “you have to tell me everything right now,” you demanded, though the weight of your exhaustion seeped into every word. the fear you’d carried for weeks had worn you down, leaving sorrow in its wake. “i can’t keep living like this, with all the secrecy and half-truths. it’s killing me.”

˚ ༘♡ as you glanced around, you noticed his home looked different, emptier than you remembered. furniture was missing, and stacks of boxes lined the walls, their presence unnerving. your eyes narrowed as you turned back to him. “are you moving? why didn’t you tell me anything?” your voice cracked with disbelief. then, anger surged, and you shoved his chest, your frustration spilling over. “this has to stop! you can’t keep throwing money and gifts at me, thinking it’ll distract me from everything you’re hiding!”

˚ ༘♡ his posture stiffened, his muscles taut under the pressure of your words. his jaw clenched tightly, and for a moment, he looked away, as though searching for the right response. when he spoke, his voice was strained, his frustration cutting through. “if you would only give me a chance!” he snapped, the sharpness of his tone filling the room. his chest heaved and fell rapidly as he struggled to compose himself.

˚ ༘♡ letting out a slow, deep breath, he rubbed his temple, his hand trembling slightly as he pulled off his glasses. without them, his eyes looked more vulnerable, the walls he so carefully built around himself momentarily exposed. “why can’t you trust me?” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with a mixture of anger and hurt. “why is it so hard for you to believe in me?”

˚ ༘♡ the scars on his face had faded slightly but still marred his handsome, angular features. your eyes lingered on them, the memories of his battered appearance resurfacing with a painful clarity. tears welled up, blurring your vision, and a tightness settled in your throat. “then tell me,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the truth he was about to share. “it was business dealings,” he began, his tone measured, “not illegal, but high-risk. it was meant to be a way to increase my earnings, and it worked. it was highly profitable and lucrative in the fiscal aspect. it was presented as a secure business opportunity.”

˚ ༘♡ you narrowed your gaze, suspicion flaring. “how much money are you talking about?”

˚ ༘♡ he hesitated for a moment before meeting your eyes. “forty-five billion six hundred million won,” he said, his expression unreadable.

˚ ༘♡ your breath caught in you throat, your mind struggling to process the sheer enormity of the figure. “what?” you managed to choke out, your disbelief evident. “sang-woo, that kind of money doesn’t come without strings attached. it can’t be clean.”

˚ ༘♡ his jaw tightened, and he looked at you with an intensity that made your stomach churn. “do you trust me enough to believe it is?”

˚ ༘♡ you faltered, the strength of his question bearing down on you. he wasn’t explaining, he was testing your loyalty, your ability to have faith in him despite the glaring inconsistencies. deep down, doubt clawed at you, but your love for him, flawed and reckless as it was, overpowered your reservations. “i trust you,” you murmured, guilt creeping into your voice. “i’m sorry for questioning you.”

˚ ༘♡ he nodded, the tension in his frame easing slightly, though his gaze remained guarded. “the investment fund ended a few weeks ago,” he continued, his tone darker now. “it got messy, very messy.” his bruised hand lifted, gesturing to the faint scars on his face. “this… was the price of my involvement.”

˚ ༘♡ the word lingered between you, heavy and suffocating. you stared at him, the weight of his choices crashing down on you like an unbearable tide. “why didn’t you tell me?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “don’t you know I would have stood by you? no matter what?”

˚ ༘♡ his eyes darkened, and his voice rose intensely, startling you. “because I didn’t want to drag you into my problems!” he shouted, the force of his words filling the room and making you flinch. the reaction caught him off guard, his frustration fading as he noticed the fear on your pallid face. he let out a deep sigh, running his hand through his disheveled hair before pacing the length of the room. when he returned, his expression softened, and he cupped your face gently, his touch warm despite the tension. “i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with regret. “i didn’t mean to scare you. i’m sorry.”

˚ ༘♡ you had hoped that hearing the truth would make things easier, that it would bring the clarity you craved. but instead, it felt as though the distance between you had grown wider. “sang-woo,” you said softly, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions, “i don’t care what you’ve done or what happened. i only want to know that you’re safe, that we’ll be okay.” tears spilled freely down your pale cheeks, salty streaks marking the anguish you couldn’t hide.

˚ ༘♡ his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. your head rested against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you in a way his words couldn’t. his hand moved slowly along your back, a comforting motion that was far different than the turmoil brewing within you. “everything will be fine,” he whispered, his tone firm yet almost pleading. “i promise, it’ll all be fine.”

˚ ༘♡ despite his reassurance, you couldn’t shake the pang of unease in your stomach. his words might have been meant to comfort, but they felt fragile, as though they could shatter under the strain of whatever truths still remained hidden.

˚ ༘♡ “i love you,” he murmured, his hand gently tilting your chin until your eyes met his. his gaze was steady, filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “i want to spend my life with you. to get married, have a family…”

˚ ༘♡ a shaky laugh escaped through your tears, a fragile moment of relief breaking through the tension. “alright,” you said softly, wiping at your damp cheeks. “let’s start with something simple. how about we go get something to eat?” your fingers brushed against his tired, weathered face, tracing the lines of exhaustion etched into his features. “you look like you haven’t had a decent meal in days,” you added with a small smile.

˚ ༘♡ sang woo’s lips curved upward, faint but genuine. “that sounds good,” he replied, his voice carrying a gentleness that was almost unfamiliar after everything.

a/n: i thought sang-woo wouldn’t tell his girlfriend about the squid game, with how concerned he is with maintaining a perfect reputation. let me know if you have any other requests! 🤍

[carnalcrows]

LOLLIPOP - CHO SANGWOO

pairing: dad's best friend!cho sang-woo x trans male reader

synopsis: When your dad’s hot best friend crashes at your place for a week, things heat up faster than the broken AC—throw in drunken confessions, lollipops, and a whole lot of unresolved tension, and you’ve got a summer break you’ll never forget.

content warnings: 18+, reader definitely has an oral fixation, too much plot, mentions of a transphobic mother, (GI HUN IS READER'S DAD), age gap (reader is 19 and sang-woo is in his 40's), unprotected sex, P in V, back-scratching? fingering, lots of unspoken tension.

word count: - 4.3k

A/N: ty to @art-gang-money , their request was what made me go on a spiral w this fic 🙏🏼🫡

Summer in your dad’s apartment always smelled like kimchi stew and stale cigarettes, a combination you’d grown weirdly fond of since moving back in after you started uni. The ceiling fan wobbled as it turned, and the couch sagged just enough to remind you how old it was. You were sprawled out on it lazily sucking on a cranberry lollipop and scrolling through your phone, when your dad cleared his throat dramatically.

“You’ll never guess who’s coming over,” he said, leaning against the doorframe like he was delivering some kind of life-altering news.

“Let me guess,” you deadpanned. “The landlord? Because I think the AC’s about to give out.”

He waved you off, grinning. “No, you brat. Cho Sangwoo. You’ve heard me talk about him, right?”

Heard? More like endured. Sangwoo was the mythical figure your dad brought up at every family gathering, a symbol of everything Seong Gi-hun wanted you to be: successful, hardworking, and an SNU graduate. You’d rolled your eyes through countless retellings of his achievements, imagining some stiff, balding guy in glasses who probably spoke in lectures.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, not looking up.

“He’s staying here for a week,” your dad added, oblivious to your lack of enthusiasm. “He’s got a client nearby, and I told him he could crash here. You’ll like him. He’s... cool.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Cool? Coming from you, that doesn’t mean much.”

Your dad ignored the jab, already walking toward the door. “He should be here any minute!”

When the door opened a few minutes later, you barely glanced up—until you heard the deep, smooth voice that followed.

“Gi-hun,” the man said warmly, stepping inside. “It’s been too long.”

You looked up and your sucker almost fell out of your mouth.

This wasn’t the stiff, balding guy you’d imagined. Sangwoo was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a suit that looked like it cost more than your dad’s entire wardrobe. His hair was styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he carried himself screamed confidence.

“Finally, you’re here!” your dad said, pulling him into a back-slapping hug. “Sangwoo, this is my son.”

“Nice to meet you kid,” Sangwoo said, extending a hand toward you.

You shook it, trying not to let your thoughts show on your face. His grip was firm, and his eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“So you’re the famous Sangwoo,” you grinned, “Didn’t expect you to be so... old.”

Sangwoo raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “Old?”

“Yeah,” you teased, leaning back against the couch. “Forty’s ancient.”

Your dad barked out a laugh. “Don’t mind him. He thinks anyone over twenty-five is ancient.”

Sangwoo didn’t reply, but the way his gaze lingered on you made your stomach twist.

After dinner, the hum of the evening settled over the apartment. Gi-hun had retreated to the couch, already half-asleep with the TV droning in the background. You had volunteered—reluctantly—to wash the dishes, partly out of guilt for eating so much and partly to avoid sitting awkwardly in the living room while Sangwoo and your dad chatted about old times.

The warm water ran over your hands as you scrubbed a plate, the faint scent of dish soap filling the air. You had just started to lose yourself in the monotony when you felt it—the faint shift of the air behind you.

“Need help?” Sangwoo’s voice came, low and smooth, almost too close.

You froze for a split second, your grip tightening on the plate. “Uh... I’ve got it,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out tighter than you’d hoped.

He didn’t seem to care—or maybe he didn’t believe you. Instead of leaving, he moved closer, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for the sponge in your hand.

“Don’t be stubborn,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of amusement.

Before you could protest, he had already slid the sponge from your fingers, his other hand gently nudging you to the side—not enough to move you completely, but just enough so he could stand behind you, his chest brushing your back.

The countertop pressed against your hips, trapping you between the solid wood and Sangwoo. You swallowed hard, your thoughts scattering like leaves in a gust of wind.

His scent hit you first—clean and sharp, a mix of soap and something faintly musky, like fresh cedarwood. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower; his hair was still damp, and the faint warmth of his skin radiated against you.

“Just rinse them,” he said, his voice a soft rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded dumbly, reaching for the faucet, but your hands felt clumsy, your fingers fumbling with the knobs. The sound of the water splashing into the sink seemed impossibly loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

Sangwoo leaned forward slightly, his arm stretching past you to grab another plate. The movement brought him even closer, his chest pressing more firmly against your back. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his breath, steady and unhurried, as if he weren’t fully aware of what he was doing—or maybe he was too aware.

“You’re tense,�� he commented, his voice laced with amusement.

You let out a breathless laugh, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be body-blocked while washing dishes.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. “You’re overthinking it. Just relax.”

Easier said than done, especially with him standing this close. Every time his arm brushed yours or his hand grazed yours as he passed a plate, it sent tiny jolts of electricity through you.

“You always make dishwashing this awkward?” you asked, your tone half-joking, half-desperate to diffuse the tension.

“Only when I’m working with someone as clumsy as you,” he shot back, his smirk practically audible.

You turned your head slightly to glare at him, but the motion brought your face dangerously close to his. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to you, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

The air between you was heavy, charged with something unspoken but impossible to ignore. He was so close you could see the faint droplets of water still clinging to his hair, the curve of his mouth as he smiled faintly, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Well,” you managed to say, your voice quieter now, “if you’re going to take over, at least let me get out of your way.”

“Who said I wanted you to move?” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you thought you’d misheard him. But then he turned back to the sink, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued washing the dishes as if nothing had happened.

You stayed frozen in place, your mind racing and your pulse hammering in your ears. If this was some kind of game, Sangwoo was winning effortlessly.

On the third day of Sangwoo’s stay, your dad insisted on taking you both out for drinks, and Sangwoo agreed with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Gi-hun, unsurprisingly, got wasted. You and Sangwoo ended up practically dragging him back to The humid summer night hung heavy as you and Sangwoo maneuvered your dad through the narrow streets, Gi-hun stumbling slightly with every step. He reeked of soju and cheap beer, his arm slung around Sangwoo’s shoulder while you tried to steady him from the other side.

“He’s heavy for someone who barely eats,” you grumbled, adjusting your grip.

“He’s always been like this,” Sangwoo said, shaking his head. “Some things never change.”

“Y’know,” Gi-hun suddenly slurred, his voice unusually loud in the stillness of the night, “I never thought I’d be one of those dads.”

“Which kind?” you asked, bracing yourself for whatever drunken confession was about to follow.

“The good ones!” he proclaimed, nearly tripping over his own feet. Sangwoo caught him effortlessly, his expression unreadable as Gi-hun continued. “Your mom… she didn’t think so. Thought I was crazy for defending you.”

“Dad,” you muttered, feeling the familiar prick of discomfort settle in your chest. “Maybe now’s not the time—”

“Why not?” Gi-hun cut you off, his eyes glassy but filled with a strange intensity. “Sangwoo doesn’t care. Do you, Sangwoo?”

Sangwoo hesitated, glancing at you before replying softly, “Not at all.”

Gi-hun nodded triumphantly, as if Sangwoo’s approval was all the validation he needed. “See? Told you. No shame in it. Not a damn bit.”

You didn’t reply, focusing instead on guiding him toward the apartment. But Gi-hun wasn’t done.

“Your mom…” His voice grew quieter, tinged with bitterness. “She couldn’t handle it. Said it wasn’t natural. Like you weren’t her kid anymore, just because you stopped wearing dresses and started wearing ties.” He barked out a humorless laugh. “As if a piece of fabric could change the fact that you’re you.”

Your chest tightened, but you didn’t interrupt. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought it up, but it still hit like a sucker punch every time.

“She wanted you to be her perfect little daughter,” Gi-hun continued, his words starting to blur together. “And when you wouldn’t… she packed up your sister and left. Going all the way to America like that would fix everything.”

He stumbled again, and this time Sangwoo steadied him with a firm grip. “America’s got more people like you anyway,” Gi-hun added, his tone lightening into something almost comedic. “She probably hates it there. Serves her right.”

You let out a soft, startled laugh despite yourself. The absurdity of it all—the drunken way he said it, the thought of your mother fuming in a country full of people who were allowed to be themselves (kinda)—was too ridiculous not to.

Gi-hun turned to look at you, his expression suddenly serious. “But you know… I’m glad you stayed with me. I wouldn’t trade you for anything. Not for a wife, not for money, not for anything.”

Your throat tightened, and you could only nod, your voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

Gi-hun leaned heavily against Sangwoo, his weight almost toppling both of them. “My kid’s a damn good man,” he declared, his voice wobbling with emotion. “Better than I’ll ever be.”

Sangwoo’s gaze flickered toward you, his dark eyes softening in understanding. He didn’t say anything, but the slight dip of his head felt like a silent acknowledgment—a recognition of everything unsaid.

When you finally got Gi-hun back to the apartment, he collapsed onto the couch, snoring almost instantly. You stood there for a moment, staring at him, your emotions too tangled to sort through.

Sangwoo broke the silence, his voice low. “He’s a good father.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his tone. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice softer than usual. “He is.”

When you finally got your dad into bed from the couch, you turned to Sangwoo, expecting some kind of witty remark.

Instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out more defensive than you intended.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was low, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Maybe I don’t,” you replied, your tone defiant.

“Don’t play dumb.” He was close now, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “You’ve been pushing me all week. Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t back down. “Maybe I do.”

That was all it took.

His hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was rough, heated, filled with all the tension that had been building between you.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands clutching at his shirt as he pressed you against the wall. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet gasp that only spurred him on.

The kiss had left you breathless, your pulse pounding in your ears as Sangwoo’s grip on the back of your neck softened just slightly. The wall at your back was cool, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body. His forehead rested against yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you spoke.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered again, his voice quieter this time, but no less intense.

“You’re the one kissing me,” you shot back, the words shaky but bold.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his fingers slid from your neck to trace the line of your jaw. The touch was maddeningly slow, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but lean into it.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked, his tone tinged with something between amusement and exasperation.

“Do you?” you countered, meeting his gaze.

His eyes darkened, and his hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good thing I’m not scared of getting burned.”

That was all it took for him to lose the last thread of restraint. His lips were on yours again, fiercer this time, his hands gripping your waist as if anchoring himself. You clung to him just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his shirt.

When he pulled back again, his lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

“Yeah?” you whispered, a teasing edge creeping into your tone despite the way your heart was racing. “And here I thought you were just ignoring me.”

His laugh was soft, almost bitter. “Ignoring you? Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

Your face heated at his words, but you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little further. “Sounds like a you problem, old man.”

His grip tightened on your waist, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of frustration and desire. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he didn’t give you the chance. His lips were on yours again, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your bare skin. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you gasped softly against his mouth.

“Sangwoo—” you started, but he silenced you with another kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he pulled away just slightly.

“Say my name again,” he murmured, his voice so low it sent a thrill down your spine.

Your lips parted, but the sound of a door creaking down the hall snapped you both back to reality.

“Shit,” you whispered, your head jerking toward the noise.

He let out a soft curse, his hands slipping from your waist as he stepped back, putting just enough space between you to make it look like nothing had happened.

“Dad?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Probably,” Sangwoo replied, his tone clipped. He straightened his shirt, his expression already hardening back into the composed mask he’d worn all week.

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed as you watched him pull himself together, but the heat in his gaze when he glanced back at you told you this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

“Go to bed,” he said quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Promise?” you asked, your voice light but your heart still pounding.

He didn’t answer, but the look he gave you said enough.

Saturday had never felt so bittersweet. Usually, it was your favorite day of the week—a time to sleep in, lounge around, and revel in doing absolutely nothing. But this Saturday was different. Sangwoo’s stay was coming to an end, and the thought of him leaving left a knot in your stomach.

You hadn’t had the chance to talk about what had happened that night after the pub—or maybe you’d both avoided it. Every brush of his hand, every lingering look, had felt heavier in the days that followed. But neither of you had acknowledged it. Not once.

The tension in the apartment was unbearable, made worse by your dad’s cheery obliviousness. That morning, he announced he had to run out for work and wouldn’t be back until evening. He didn’t even glance up as he slipped on his shoes, leaving you alone with Sangwoo.

You sat at the kitchen table, absently swirling the stick of a grape lollipop between your lips as you scrolled through your phone. The candy clicked softly against your teeth, your thoughts miles away.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor snapped you back to reality. You glanced up to see Sangwoo sitting across from you, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Is it good?” he asked, nodding toward the lollipop.

You pulled it out of your mouth with a soft pop, tilting your head. “What, this?” You swirled the candy dramatically. “Amazing. Want a taste, old man?”

His lips quirked into that maddening smirk, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he stood, moving toward you with deliberate slowness.

“Sangwoo,” you started, a warning in your tone.

He stopped right beside you, one hand braced on the table as he leaned down. His voice was low, a soft rumble that made your pulse quicken. “You’ve been driving me insane all week.”

You tried for a laugh, but it came out shaky. “Is this about the coffee thing again? (you had put salt in his coffee instead of sugar because you were so fixated on his face-) Because I already apologized—”

His hand reached out, his fingers gently gripping your chin, tilting your face toward him. The sudden proximity stole the words from your throat.

“Stop,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. “Stop pretending like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

Your heart was hammering now, the lollipop stick trembling slightly in your fingers. “Maybe I don’t,” you replied, though the smirk tugging at your lips said otherwise.

His gaze dropped to your mouth, and for a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself. Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re going to make me lose control.”

The words sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It was rough, messy, and desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long and couldn’t stand it anymore. The lollipop tumbled from your hand, forgotten as you gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly against your mouth, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you out of the chair and into him. Your back hit the wall a second later, and you gasped, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands tangled in his hair, still faintly damp from his morning shower. He kissed you like he was starving, his lips hot and insistent against yours. One of his hands slid up, tangling in your hair, while the other gripped your hip, keeping you firmly in place.

“You taste sweet,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough.

You managed a breathless laugh, tilting your head to nip at his jaw. “Blame the lollipop.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and heated. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“On the table,” you teased, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

With a low chuckle, he grabbed the discarded lollipop, holding it up as if examining it. Then, to your shock, he popped it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.

“That’s mine,” you protested weakly, though your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not anymore,” he said, his tone laced with amusement.

Before you could respond, he was kissing you again, the faint sweetness of the candy mixing with the heat of his mouth. The combination was intoxicating, making your head spin.

His hands roamed, gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt to brush against your bare skin. Every touch left a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped your lips.

“Sangwoo,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Sangwoo,” you repeated, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breathing ragged. “You’ve been driving me crazy all week,” he said, his voice low and raw.

“Good,” you shot back, your smirk returning. “Serves you right, old man.”

His laugh was quiet, almost disbelieving, before his lips found yours again, pulling you into another dizzying kiss.

His hand was going lower and lower, first to your collarbone, then to your waist. It slowly inched the topband of your shorts, pulling it back and letting it slap onto your skip, making you yelp.

His other hand held you steady at the waist, while his dominant one went under your boxers.

You whimpered as you felt his hand graze your cunt, teasing one finger against your wet folds. It had been a solid minute since you even touched yourself down there. You were always too anxious that Sangwoo would be able to hear you (Dad was tone deaf) or he might come home earlier than expected from his business meetings.

And his fingers— God, his hands. So strong and thick. They linger over the soft pudge of your cunt, pressing into the warm skin and pulling apart each sticky fold to ghost over the quiver and throb of your acawaiting, needy clit. How overwhelming they were, using his thumb to rub smooth circles into it, eliciting a wet squelch as his fingers sunk into your hot, gummy walls.

You latched your hands on his shoulders, back arching into the wall with the sudden intrusion. You muffled any noise you made by hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

He propped you up higher on the wall, letting your head fall back, while his eyes never left yours.

“Sangwo–,” you were cut off by him suddenly sliding your shorts down. You remembered with embarrassment that you had worn–

“Huh. Hello Kitty.” the man stated while looking at your bright pink boxers. Your face flushed, turning to look away, while Sanwoo slid your boxers down and continued to have his way with your sopping cunt. 

You had no idea how long you had been in that position. He had taken your leg and placed it on your shoulder, making you somewhat balance on one leg, back resting on the wall and your hands on his shoulder.

Sangwoo on the other hand was obsessed with how his fingers were practically being devoured by your needy cunt, the slick making it easier to slide in every time.

He determined that you had been prepped enough, and removed his belt, along with his pants and boxers, which were now pooling at his knees.

He used his toned arms to steadily lift both your legs up, making you squeak. Your knees were now at the same level of your shoulders. Before you could let out a remark, he had slid the tip of his length into your gummy walls, eyes going wide with how tight you were.

“Fuck…so tight f’me, aren’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement, and before you could respond, he had slid all the way in, making you gasp.

Using the opportunity, he captured your lips with his once more, muffling the sweet moans that came from you. He wanted to hear you, but your neighbours seemed to be quite…nosy.

When he had buried his cock all the way to the hilt, he stopped.

“Please…fuck, Sangwoo–,” you whined, feeling full but it just. wasn’t. enough.

“Please what doll? Use your words,” he teased, the smugness evident on his face.

“Fuck me till my legs are shaking. Please please plea–,” before you could finish, Sangwoo had slid out and he rammed into you once more, making you let out an almost pornographic moan.

He went at it like an animal, fucking into you with reckless abandon, as though he was in a rut. Your hands went from his shoulders to his back, your nails (whatever was left of them after you bit them off) scratched his back, leaving crescent shaped indents on his skin.

Your cunt clamped tightly around his cock, as you tried to babble something but only moans left your lips. He seemed so heavily into chasing his own orgasm at this point. 

“San..Sangwoo..I– ” You tried to say but could only cry out as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a rapid stream. Your fingers dug ineffectually into his back as a way of forgetting the overstimulation against the older man’s harsh thrusts.

He groaned, feeling the sting of your nails and how your cunt was clenching around his length with every thrust.

He continued going even after you came, his hips retracting at a fast pace. His grip on your waist tightened, pressing down onto your flesh.

“ I’m gonna-- “, he breathes out before (reluctantly) pulling out of your tight hole and climaxing all over your stomach. 

The warmth of the liquid seeped down your stomach, settling in your navel and even going further to your used cunt.

As he was staring at your hole, that was still clenching around nothing, you brought your shaky hand to his face and dived in for another kiss.

The sound of a key turning in the door was unheard. Your dad’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Forgot my wallet! Need to get the groceries– What the… CHO SANGWOO WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SON–”

Shit.

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

[catchastarorten]

—Squid game Masterlist—

Notes: while we engage in the things we like, creating and reading these works and writings, we should never forget what the true message of the show is and the points it makes.

Not currently taking requests, sorry! I’ve got a lot to work on! <3

I only write when I’m inspired by something, I only write things I’m comfortable with and can get a good grasp of, plus I’m often pretty busy, so if I don’t do your request please don’t take it personally. I try my best in these — lots of love <3

*:･ﾟ✧ Hwang Jun-ho

Hey, brother. — sister!reader

License and registration, please. — wife!reader

Feels better with you. — lover!fem!reader

Morning and breakfast. — wife!reader

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Kang Dae-ho / player 388

Sleep well. — fem!reader

Hair tie. — lover!fem!reader

How he loves you. — headcanons, avoidant attachment-reader

˚*･༓☾ Hwang In-ho / Frontman

Hey, brother — sister!reader

You’ll be with me. — wife!reader

*°:⋆ The salesman/recruiter

One more game. — winner!fem!reader

100 loaves of bread. — bakeryowner!fem!reader

Pause the game. — wife!reader

ﾟ..｡*ﾟCho Sang-woo / player 218

More than anything. — lover!fem!reader

[sensationallysangwoo]

Can ’t wait to work on the other requests you guys have sent me for this fucken NERD

[burningembers91]

Biggest Regret - Cho Sang-Woo x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: two years ago, Cho Sang-Woo left you standing at the alter. After living with his regrets for two years, he’s forced to return to Seoul. Can he makes amends for breaking your heart? Or will you leave him like he left you?

Cho Sang-Woo had many regrets. He regretted taking up smoking, he regretted spending above his means, he regretted wracking up a ton of debt. But he regretted none of these things as much as he regretted leaving you.

You’d been the love of his life, the one thing that had kept him going, no matter how bad things got. You loved him so fiercely and so unconditionally that it left him in awe.

He’d been a coward, a fool the day he left you standing in the church. The unpaid bills had been piling up, with debt collectors knocking on the door. Sang-Woo had managed to keep the extent of his money troubles away from you, but he knew he’d eventually drag you down with him. He knew you were too kind for him, that you’d put yourself into financial difficulty to bail him you. That’s just the kind of person you were; selfless and kind.

He left you broken hearted, heading to the coast where no one knew his name. He spent two years in hiding, too ashamed to show his face. Even his mother hadn’t known where he was. Once the adrenaline had worn off he realised what he’d done. He’d left you standing there, in front of your family and friends, alone. You had no idea why he’d left, no idea what you’d done to make him run away.

He tortured himself, agonising over his decision again and again, lying awake at night soaked in his own sweat. he wished he could take it back, wished he could go back in time and marry you. He didn’t see the point of life anymore; he had no life without you.

He simply existed for two years, stumbling through the monotony of life. He wondered what you were doing now, whether you’d stayed in the city or moved away. He wondered if you still thought of him, if you’d moved on or were still caught up on the man who ran away.

He eventually had to return to Seoul. His mother was getting older and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let her die without telling her he loved her. He couldn’t leave her like he left you.

“She still comes to visit, you know,” his mother sighed, once she got over the shock of seeing the son she thought was gone for good. “She comes to check to me.”

“She was always too good for me,” Sang-Woo mumbled, his heart aching as he thought about you coming to check on his mother, looking after her when he couldn’t.

He was leaving his mother’s shop when he saw you. You still looked the same, still had the bright eyes and soft smile he’d loved so much. You stopped dead in the street when you saw him, your bottom lip trembling.

“Sang-Woo?” You gasped, both of you frozen in place. He wanted to go to you, to run to you and tell you he was sorry and that he’d never stopped loving you. But old habits died hard, and instead, he turned and ran away. He ran back to the safety of his mother’s house, curling into a ball on the sofa as he cried the tears he’d never allowed himself to shed.

Yes, Sang-Woo had many regrets. But leaving you was the one that hurt the most.