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moonlinos · 3 months

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Invisible string (pt. I)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader / Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: With your terrible history of boyfriends during high school, you swore off love and vowed to get through university without a relationship. Things are great: you’re in your junior year, in an uncomplicated arrangement with a friend with benefits, and living in a nice sharehouse with two amazing roommates. But things begin to change once you meet Lee Minho, a student in your new class who vows to change your perspective on love.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, eventual smut, light angst, pining, jealousy, strangers to friends to lovers, friends with benefits

♡ CW: Swearing, sexual themes and discussions, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

♡ Word count: 16.4k

♡ A/N: This is a three-part story because I can’t shut up. The second part will be posted sometime next week, and I’ll link it here. I’ve been writing all my life and have written for maaaany fandoms, but being on Tumblr as an active reader of SKZ fics made me want to write for them. So, yeah, guess this is what I’m doing now.

part II →

You are woken up by Hyunjin shifting beside you on the bed. He groans, arm reaching to mess with your already closed curtains. You chuckle.

“You know, the curtains won’t close any more than that.”

“I keep telling you your bed is in a terrible position,” He grumbles as you turn to face him with a smile. “Who thought placing a bed right under a window would be a good idea? Mornings are fucking hell here.”

You shrug. “Well, it’s not my house so I didn’t exactly have a say in that matter.”

“I told you a million times I could help you move it.”

“And I told you a million times Mrs. Choi doesn’t like for us to mess with her furniture,” You explain, turning under the sheets so you could face him before bringing your fingers up to pinch his cheek. Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “Speaking of which, you need to leave. You know her rule: no—”

“No boyfriends spending more than two days at the house,” He interrupted you with an eye roll. “I’m not your boyfriend, though, so that rule shouldn’t apply.” He shrugs.

Hyunjin has been one of your best friends since you first met over two years ago. It was Hyunjin’s first college party and one of the many times your housemates had dragged you along on a night out. His friends had dared him to try and chat you up, arguing it would be hilarious to see him get turned down by an older girl. What they hadn’t expected, however, was for Hyunjin’s clumsy attempt at flirting to be so endearing to you; his pink cheeks and bowl-cut hair made him look like a helpless kid despite his height towering over you. Before you knew it, you had spent the entirety of the party talking to him about everything and anything, only stopping once your housemate Eunha emerged from inside the house to drag you home with her as she desperately tried to dodge a rather insistent guy’s advances. After that day, you and Hyunjin became almost inseparable.

You can’t quite pinpoint when you began hooking up. It was meaningless in the best sense of the word. It was simply something that had happened. All you can remember is that Jisung had recently bleached Hyunjin’s hair after yet another dare from his friend. It had started with cuddles, which turned to kisses, which turned to touches, until you eventually slept together for the first time sometime last year after an excruciatingly stressful exam period. It had never once gotten weird between the two of you; the line was always clear: you were just friends who hooked up due to convenience. Everybody had needs and stress and shit complicating their lives, and fucking your best friend was far more practical and safe than going out to look for a random hook-up whenever you needed it.

You find yourself smiling at Hyunjin once again. His now long black hair fell in his eyes as he stretched his arms over his head.

“Yes, you’re not my boyfriend, but how am I supposed to explain what we are to a little old lady?”

“Doesn’t she always say she’s super modern?” Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at you with a chuckle. “Maybe she’d like a situationship of her own and you’re depriving her of that by keeping this knowledge to yourself.”

You roll your eyes at his words, attempting to push him off your bed. “Why did you sleep here, anyway?”

Hyunjin sits up on the bed, a pout on his full lips. “I had a shitty date. I was sad and lonely. Glad to know you were paying attention to my story.”

“Hyune,” You sigh, ‘When you tell me said story while fucking me, can I really be blamed for not remembering anything?”

Hyunjin flicks your forehead lightly. “Yes, you can. At this point, it’s like our thing to vent about bad dates during sex,” He argues before getting up from your bed, finding his shirt, which had somehow been thrown over your study desk.

“You mean it’s your thing,” Correcting him, you get up as well, turning to fix up your sheets. “I don’t even go on dates and you know that. The only thing I vent to you about is how awful academic life is.”

Once you turned to face him again, Hyunjin was busy messily tying his hair. His brows promptly furrowed as he took in your words. “Remind me why you literally never leave the house again?”

“Just don’t want to get distracted. Getting my degree is more important than getting a boyfriend.” You lie with a shrug.

Your history with relationships was something you kept secret from everyone you met after high school. You feel embarrassed, as if it was all somehow your fault. After five failed relationships where you had been the one to be broken up with or cheated on, you began to accept that maybe the problem really was you. Maybe something about you makes men want to yell at and cheat on you. Perhaps you are just bound to be a distraction until they find someone better.

Which is why you don’t date.

Would anyone go through the hassle of reading a long, tedious book if they already knew about the bad ending?

Hyunjin rolls his eyes at your answer, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your degree isn’t going to keep you company when you’re eighty and alone.”

“Well, my degree isn’t going to wake up one day and suddenly decide to leave me either,” you refute, earning an annoyed groan from your friend as you walk past him to leave your room.

“You literally never have fun, though. All you do is go to class, work, and study. You should at least pick up a new hobby,” Hyunjin insists as he follows you, walking into the kitchen-living room area. “Go out more, stop avoiding college parties like the plague before it’s too late to experience the joys of watching your friend throw up on some random person’s couch.”

You make a face at the offers, grabbing your mug from the cupboard. “Why would I want to see that? Besides, I have hobbies.”

“I meant a social hobby. Sitting in your room watching fucking iceberg videos isn’t sociable,” He explains, and you let out an aggrieved gasp. Your iceberg videos were educational and entertaining, thank you very much. Behind you, your housemate’s bedroom door opens, and you turn to watch as she stumbles out of her room, looking half-awake. “Soojung, don’t you think she should get a new hobby?” Hyunjin addresses the blonde girl, who stares daggers at him.

“If I say yes, will you two stop speaking so loud?”

Hyunjin slams one hand on the kitchen counter, his other pointing a finger at you. “See, she said yes. You’re outnumbered, now you have to stop spending all your free time holed up inside your room.”

Soojung groans, stepping into the kitchen and shoving Hyunjin to the side. “He’s annoying, but he is kind of right,” she mumbles.

Truthfully, you did feel bad about having essentially wasted three years at university by actively avoiding parties and invitations any chance you got. The only parties you did attend, however, only served as an irritating reminder as to why you shouldn’t put yourself in those situations. Parties and bars only meant desperate college boys. Desperate for sex, for attention, for a potential relationship. For someone’s heart to break. You had met Hyunjin at a party, for fuck’s sake. Who knows just how south things between you two could’ve gone if he had become interested in you romantically?

But, as much as you hate to admit it, Hyunjin is right. Your life is essentially an endless loop of studying and working. You only socialize when your roommates are home, when your few friends come over, and when you and Hyunjin hook up. But you aren’t ready to step out of your comfortable bubble of avoidance, so you settle for the best thing you can think of.

As Hyunjin rummages through your fridge like he lived there and Soojung stirs her coffee blankly, you loudly set your mug down on the counter. “An elective course,” you announce.

The both of them turn to face you with the same puzzled expression.

“The fuck?” Hyunjin questions, and you roll your eyes.

“I’ll take an elective,” you explain matter-of-factly, “The university offers a lot of great courses in things I’m actually interested in. It’ll be a way for me to get out of the house without having to watch a friend of mine puke on a couch or whatever atrocity it is that you said.”

Hyunjin slams the fridge door closed, earning a scolding scream from Soojung, and walks over to where you’re standing. He pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “You’re such a fucking nerd, what the fuck, but I’m so glad your hermit life is coming to an end.”

The elective course you choose is Japanese. It’s a language you’ve always been interested in learning, and while you know the class is merely introductory, you figure it will be fun to learn some phrases and expressions. You might even find yourself wanting to learn more in the future, and you’ll undoubtedly be glad you took this class during university.

Even if that means having to endure Hyunjin calling you a weeb.

You are able to begin attending classes a week after signing up; the lessons lining up with your work schedule to a T. The professor explained that, since you had joined the course late, you would likely need some guidance with phrases and words the class had already been taught. You didn’t mind, actually feeling excited in the morning despite your boring routine classes since you knew you would be doing something new you enjoyed in the afternoon instead of simply killing time around your house until it was time for you to work.

You walk into your first class ten minutes late, mentally cursing Eunha for being so good at telling stories about her weirdly entertaining life that it made it physically difficult for you to drag yourself away from her. You mouth a brief apology to your professor before scanning the room and scurrying over to the only available seat.

You sit down in haste so as to not disrupt the class any further, swinging your bag over your chair and accidentally knocking over your seatmate’s water bottle all over his side of the desk. Luckily, the bottle lands on the soft surface of his notebook, barely making any noise. Unluckily, said bottle had been filled with coffee, staining his notes a faded brown color. You silently gasp, instinctively reaching out your hands to fruitlessly try and dry the pages that are now sticking to each other.

“I am so sorry, what the fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you continue to inspect his notebook frantically. “I’ll buy you a new notebook and another cup of coffee as soon as class ends, I promise,” You whisper to him, your eyes boring holes into the stained pages as you watch the bitter liquid slowly dissolve some of the black ink. At this point, you’re rambling out of nervousness, but you can’t seem to stop, adding, “Hell, I’m so angry at myself for what I did I’d bind you a new notebook and brew you some fresh coffee myself.”

You mentally berate yourself for your word vomit. It was just your luck that you would make someone hate your guts on the first day you attended a class.

After what feels like minutes of silence from him, you are prepared for the imminent burst of rage bound to come your way, the guy’s wrath more than likely stirring inside him as he sits beside you and watches as you foolishly shake the piece of paper, hoping it will miraculously return to its untainted state.

However, what you aren’t prepared for is the small burst of laughter that leaves your seatmate’s lips; it’s quiet, but you’re close enough to him to be able to hear it.

You furrow your brows, finally mustering the courage to look up at him for the first time.

“Did you…” You trail off. You feel a strange sensation inside your chest as your eyes meet his. It was something you had never felt before, a small burst of a fluttering that briskly washed over you before disappearing just as quickly. Like a pinwheel was placed inside of you and a strong wind had suddenly started blowing. You shake your head, returning to the matter at hand. You are probably just experiencing some anxiety due to what has happened, you argue mentally. “Did you just laugh at me?”

As you finally take him in properly, the guy before you looks as dazed as you felt just now, courtesy of your minor panic attack; his lips agape and his round eyes blinking while his dark pupils are fixed on you. You two remain that way for a few seconds in an impromptu staring contest that causes the peculiar feeling to bloom inside your chest once again.

When he finally speaks, his voice is soft. “You… offered to bind a notebook for a stranger,” His lips twitch into a grin. “It was a little funny.”

You open your mouth but promptly close it, unable to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make you appear like more of an idiot than you already do. You sigh. “Sorry,” you mumble, your voice low as well. “I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “It’s okay. I’m—”

“You two, on the back,” your professor calls out in a louder voice, however still keeping her calm demeanor. You and your seatmate turn to look at her. “I’m going to teach a few new phrases useful for traveling now. How about you two talk after class? This is actually quite perfect. Minho is one of my best students, so he could help you catch up to where we are.” She offers the two of you a small smile, and you feel your cheeks burn.

This class wasn’t mandatory, and you didn’t need it to get your degree. It is still a class, nonetheless. Ever since high school, you’ve always hated people who disrespect their professors by brazenly talking or sleeping during class.

“I’m sorry, professor,” You muttered. Beside you, your seatmate — Minho, as he was just called — scoots closer to you and whispers something you don’t understand under his breath. You look at him, confused. He chuckles, and you feel his breath on your cheek. It makes the odd fluttering return.

“Gomenasai,” He repeats more clearly, his voice louder, “It’s ‘I’m sorry’ in Japanese.” He offers you a smile, and you soak in just how good-looking he is. Ever since you first raised your head to look at him — when the pinwheel inside your chest rapidly spun and unexplainedly made you feel nervous — you knew he was a handsome guy, but his soft smile and calm eyes made him look even more annoyingly pretty.

Before you’re able to do it yourself, your professor speaks again and pulls you out of your trance.

“In this case, Sumimasen would be a bit more appropriate,” she corrects Minho, who clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath. The woman chuckles at his reaction. “It’s okay. This is also something you can explain to Y/N after class.”

As the class went on, you couldn’t help but notice how Minho didn’t take any notes. Your mind latched onto how you ruined his notebook and how it was your fault that he couldn’t properly study during today’s class, so you couldn’t find the courage to offer him some paper so he could take notes.

After almost an hour of unrelenting guilt swallowing you up slowly, you place your hand on Minho’s shoulder as soon as the professor announces class is over after assigning the students a small written assignment.

“We could talk outside? If you want,” you offer him, feeling the now-familiar nervousness come back, making your mouth speak faster than your brain can even think to rationalize, “There’s a bench I really like outside this building. It’s a good spot. There’s a nice shade, and it’s secluded enough that people don’t bother me when I’m studying. Or googling how to bind a notebook.”

Minho lets out a brief chuckle. “Okay. I would love to talk on your favorite bench.”

You blink at him. “I don’t have a favorite bench.”

“Hm, it sure sounded like it. You listed some good attributes of that bench,” He argues, a grin etched onto his lips.

“I told you I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He raises an eyebrow at your words. “You’re nervous?”

“Of course I am. I never bound a notebook before.”

Minho lets out a hearty laugh this time, his head thrown back and his eyes turning into crescent moons before he shakes his head. He picks his notebook off the table, showing you the crinkly light brown-tinted pages. “It’s dry now. I actually kind of like it, gave the pages a sort of vintage vibe. You don’t have to bind me a new notebook,” He reassures you, placing the small book into his bag. “As much as I would love to see how that would turn out.”

And just like that, your nervousness fades away. You smile at Minho, asking that he follow you over to your favorite bench.

The two of you talked for almost two hours. During that time, Minho helped you catch up with the vocabulary and phrases you had missed in class. When you asked him how he was able to know so much off the top of his head, his lips curled into a crooked grin as he sheepishly told you that he had been taking Japanese lessons since he was in high school. He explained that because he procrastinated signing up for an elective course, the advanced class was full by the time he got to it, so he decided to go for the introductory one instead. You chuckled and questioned why he would choose to spend his time on a course when he already knew everything being taught. He shrugged and explained that it was nice to have at least one class in which he didn’t have to try and that the fact that it made him feel smart also helped.

Not even your shift at work was able to make your conversation stop flowing, as Minho offered to walk with you to the coffee shop upon realizing it was near his apartment.

That was one of the many coincidences and things in common you found to have with each other that day.

It started with ordinary things like the fact that Minho had three cats back home just like you and how he had been collecting plushies since he was a child, while you had started your own collection as soon as you had access to money of your own. Or how your favorite authors were Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë — Minho swore you would die if you saw the special edition books he had back at home.

Then, it became a bit more amusing as you found out that Minho had worked at a convenience store chain when he first finished high school, and it was the same one you worked at for your first job after starting university. And you both had worked there for exactly a year and two months before quitting. You then told him about how you ended up attending this university after your top three choices turned you down, and his choices were the same as yours. And just like you, he also got rejected by his top three options, which led him to attend the same university as you.

You two couldn’t hide your bewilderment, eyes widening and lips bursting into laughter as these linked facts kept spilling out during your conversation. It was strange, you thought, but in a comforting way. It was almost as if you two had been living weirdly similar lives, all while having no clue about the other’s existence.

The two of you approach the small coffee shop while talking about your degrees. You try your best not to bore Minho with your ‘existential crisis-inducing psychology talks,’ as Hyunjin always put it, and you mostly listen to him as he talks about programming. He tells you that his dream is to develop cozy games that people can jump into without much thought, simply to relax. He says he knows how stressful life is and that people sometimes need something they can mindlessly do to get their minds off of shit. You resonate with it more than you care to admit, as cozy idle games are one of your favorite things to do while locked inside your room.

“So I do these freelancing gigs to make money but I’m actually set to start my first quote-unquote real job in two weeks,” he beams as you two stop in front of the coffee shop. Minho’s eyes lit up the moment he started speaking about his degree, and although you didn’t understand most of the terms he used, it is always endearing to watch someone talk about something they’re so passionate about. “There’s this guy who’s graduating soon who recruited me and a friend for a project he’s working on, so it’s not technically a job and we’ll work in his living room. I’ll still get some money and the chance to actually develop something, though, so it’s better than nothing.”

You smile at him. “If you like programming as much as your words led me to believe, I’m sure it won’t even feel like a job.”

Minho’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, and he scratched his head. “Sorry, I talked your ear off about shit you don’t even understand.”

“I think everybody likes to hear people talk about things they like,” you assure him, “It was a good talk. I still can’t believe we have so many things in common. It was kind of funny how they kept coming up.”

Minho chuckles, bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Guess the universe is giving us signs that we should be friends.”

“It seems like it.”

That day, you work with a persistent smile engraved on your lips. You can’t remember the last time you felt so good about meeting someone new. Despite your awkward first encounter, you found that talking to Minho was as easy as talking to an old childhood friend. It felt refreshing. The last friend you made was Hyunjin — whom you were so grateful to now for pushing you out of your comfort zone — and after that, you had unknowingly closed yourself off.

Minho had managed to open up your mind to the idea of letting someone in almost comically fast. And you loved that.

It’s been a month since you’ve been attending Japanese classes, and your studying sessions with Minho — which always turned into long conversations on what now had really become your favorite bench — were a weekly appointment, much like having him walk with you to work twice a week.

Today, however, Minho stopped you with a hand on your shoulder as you made your way toward your usual spot. When he asked you if you would like to study at his favorite bakery today instead, his eyes rapidly blinking as he looked at you through his bangs which had grown to slightly cover his eyes since you met him, you just couldn’t say no. He stammered as he promised that the place was even closer than the one where you worked, so you wouldn’t be late for your shift.

You smiled at his apparent nervousness, finding it endearing. You knew all too well how stressed you felt when offering something new or initiating plans with a new friend, and Minho seemed to be the same.

“Good thing you made this offer today, on my day off,” you bumped shoulders with him. “It’s almost like you knew.”

You begin walking, and Minho gently pushes you to the side so that he’s the one walking on the edge of the side of the sidewalk. You shoot him a questioning look, and he blinks at you again.

“Sorry, force of habit,” he chuckles, “My mom taught me a guy shouldn’t let a girl walk on the street side. I know it’s old-fashioned and probably made me seem like an ancient guy who wouldn’t let his wife work or something. Sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s kind of sweet. I never had anyone do that with me.”

You feel the pinwheel twirl inside your chest again.

The two of you approach a familiar building together. You furrow your eyebrows as you take in the floral curtains on the windows and the pretty font adorning the store sign of your favorite bakery. You think about how it would be nice if you two came here on another day. Maybe you could use that opportunity to finally introduce Minho to your other friends.

You only realize Minho has stopped walking when he calls out your name. When you turn around, he’s standing in front of the bakery with a smile.

“This is the place.” He points toward the white door with a nod as you return to where he’s standing.

No fucking way.

“This is your favorite bakery?” You ask, although it is a stupid question. Minho nods. You play with the strap of your bag. “Okay, this is starting to sound ridiculous, but I swear I’m not lying. This is my favorite bakery, too.”

Minho’s eyes widen at your words, and his lips curl into a smile again. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I will not,” You chuckle.

Minho opens the door and the two of you walk inside, the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods bringing back great memories you made in this place. You often come here with your two roommates; it’s close enough to both your house and university that you can skip out on taking the bus, the atmosphere is always relaxing and comforting, not to mention the delicious cakes they sell. You smile to yourself as you remember Eunha scuffing down far too many slices of their chocolate cake after a nasty breakup a couple of months ago, tears streaming down her face so violently that the poor little old man who owns the shop appeared to check up on her.

“Their lemon cake is my favorite.”

“The lemon cake is what made me—”

You and Minho speak concurrently, with you unable to even finish your sentence before you both freeze for a couple of seconds in front of the only small table available at the crowded shop.

He’s the first one to move, pulling out his chair a bit awkwardly. “We should…” He trails off before clearing his throat as you sit down before him. “Should really make a written list of things we weirdly have in common.”

“At this point, I think it’d be easier if we made one of what we don’t have in common.”

You two settle for the obvious choice of two pieces of lemon cake with a cup of coffee for him and a glass of cola for you. Minho almost looked offended when you informed him that you hate coffee, wondering out loud why you even worked at a coffee shop before ensuring he could change your mind with just the five amazing facts about coffee he thought about off the top of his head. You shrugged him off with a grin. You couldn’t deny the irony of being a barista and having to make endless cups of a drink you despised daily, but you were sure Minho could never change your mind about coffee.

You two talked about your improvement in Japanese in the last month until the waiter returned with your order. Minho insists you’re a natural and could be on his level in a couple of years if you tried, but you roll your eyes at his compliments. You’ve never been naturally good at anything. That wasn’t about to change now.

“You know,” Minho begins once the waiter steps away from your table, looking around the coffee shop. People slowly started to leave as it got later in the day; the place was now much quieter, and the atmosphere even more cozy. “I used to think I would meet somebody in a place like this.”

“Like, in a romantic sense?”

Minho hums, still looking out to his side. You notice his side profile is really pretty, and you have to hide your smile by sipping your drink.

When he returns his gaze to you, he’s the one smiling. “Yes, in a romantic sense. Like being destined to meet someone.”

“Look at you, a hopeless romantic,” You roll your eyes with a chuckle. You never thought of Minho as someone like that. He seemed rather methodical, always following a routine and too engrossed in his codes to be preoccupied with something like love.

Minho furrowed his brows. “Why the eye roll?”

“I just don’t believe in that stuff,” you shrug with a small smile, “Stuff like destiny, soulmates, love…” You trail off, taking your spoon and poking the slice of cake in front of you. “Love has the awful tendency of being bad.”

Of course, you once believed all those things. Doesn’t everybody? But love has shown you time and time again that those are things reserved only for some people. And, clearly, you are not one of them. So why believe in it?

“It’s the most amazing thing in life,” Minho’s voice almost startled you as you were so deeply entranced in your thoughts.

You don’t lift your head to answer him, instead drawing mindless shapes on the icing on top of your cake.

“What is?”

“Love,” He replies in a soft voice. When you finally look at him, you’re surprised to find Minho’s deep eyes already looking at you, a small smile adorning his lips. “Love is the most amazing thing in life.”

You freeze.

You tear your eyes away from him, gaze focusing on the plate in front of you again.

You were careful with your rules. No parties, no bars, no talking to your male co-workers unless absolutely necessary, and no male friends unless they were in a relationship or proved beyond a reasonable doubt to only be interested in you platonically — which was what Minho was. So, why did him bringing up love make you feel so nervous?

Under the table, you unwittingly bounce your leg. This was stupid. Minho has been your friend for a month now; you see each other twice a week, and you talk for hours, always so comfortable around each other in a way that is still so new to you. He has never flirted with you or treated you in any way that led you to believe that he wanted anything more than to be your friend. You will not let your foolish trauma ruin what was proving to be an amazing friendship. He was simply sharing his thoughts on a topic. That’s all love was: a conversation topic.

You force out a chuckle as you snap yourself out of your senseless panic and look up at Minho once more. “We can just agree to disagree?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, something you can’t quite pinpoint swimming in his deep eyes as he looks at you. Instead of breaking the silence, he scoops up a piece of cake with his spoon and raises it like a glass. You shake your head with a giggle as you realize what he’s doing, toasting your spoons together at the center of the table before you both eat your spoonfuls of cake.

“You know,” He speaks as soon as he’s done eating, his eyes having never left yours. “Love can never be bad. I don’t think so, at least. It never makes anything worse. It can only ever make things better.”

You hum and shift in your seat, lowering your gaze toward the table. The truth is, you hate talking about love. That — coupled with your shame regarding your past relationships — is the reason why you never indulge in this type of conversation, even with your own mother. But years of swallowing down your thoughts and opinions whenever the subject was brought up only caused a buildup of emotions in your throat. So much so that you only realized you were talking once you were midway through a sentence.

“Love can make so many things worse,” you affirmed, your eyes following the polka-dot pattern on the tablecloth, “Losing someone is bad enough, but put love into that equation, and it just worsens tenfold.”

Minho nods. “By that logic, you can say that having someone by your side is always good, but if it’s someone you love, it makes it better tenfold, right?”

You let out a chuckle as you realize you two could go back and forth about that subject for ages.

But it felt good to finally speak out your feelings on the matter, so you continue, “Love can’t be that great if people can so easily fall out of it and for so many different but equally stupid reasons. You’re suddenly not attractive to them anymore, or you have different opinions, or they love picking fights but hate it when it’s the other way around…” You trail off, swallowing down a lump in your throat as you speak out of experience. But Minho didn’t need to know that. You lift your eyes. “Not to mention falling in love with a new person all while supposedly already being in love with someone.”

“That’s not genuine love,” Minho shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, as if it was his first time hearing of such things happening. “Real love is unconditional and understanding. Real love makes the person you love beautiful simply because they’re them. Real love doesn’t allow you to hurt the person you love because it feels like you’re hurting yourself as well.” His expression softens, and his eyes lock onto yours. “And real love makes it so that you can only see the one you love. You can’t possibly fall in love with someone else if you’re truly already in love.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, nodding slowly. You hate the fact that part of you is desperate to believe that what Minho said was true. And you hate it even more that an even bigger part has already dismissed every single word that left his lips.

Desperate to shift the subject from Reasons Why My Exes Left Me — which only leaves you feeling sad and pathetic — back to Love Is Amazing, you decide to try and lighten the mood.

“Okay, but then explain to me how love is so great when you can just have sex with anyone, and it feels the same either way?” You question him with a teasing grin on your face. Minho shakes his head with a smile and eats another bite of his cake. You continue, “Be it a stranger at a party you met ten minutes ago or the love of your life, sex will always be sex. Therefore, you’re wrong, mister Love-Makes-Everything-Better.”

Minho chuckles around his mug, eyes closing as he almost spits out his coffee. His eyes are like crescent moons when he looks at you again, clearly amused by your words. “Well, yeah, of course, sex will always feel good no matter who you’re doing it with. It’s sex, and sex feels good,” He shrugs dismissively. “But sex with love is different. You aren’t just fucking, just fulfilling your own desires selfishly. Love makes sex better because you feel good simply by making the person who’s so important to you feel good. It makes you want to melt into the other person and become one with them because close isn’t close enough when you’re in love.

“Touching them feels like a gift, like heaven. Tasting them feels like heaven. Hearing their voice in their most blissful state feels like heaven. The trust and connection you feel in that moment is heaven, and that’s only possible through love. You can have sex with anyone, but you can only make love to someone you love, and those are two different things. That’s how love makes sex better. Therefore, I’m not wrong.”

As you take in Minho’s words, spoken so casually, like it was common knowledge, they leave you speechless. You watch him as he smiles triumphantly when he realizes you aren’t going to refute him — because you can’t refute him.

You berate yourself mentally as you notice the familiar feeling of arousal wash over you as you repeat his words inside your head. Not because it was Minho who said those things, but simply because that kind of sex sounded so good. Good in a way you had never once experienced before. Like heaven, as he had put it.

Your experience with sex has always been simply about fulfilling desires. You thought that was all there was to it.

Until now.

And even so, with your ex-boyfriends, it was always unbalanced. Ninety percent about their pleasure and only ten percent about yours. The first time you had a guy go down on you was the first time you had sex with Hyunjin, and by that point, you had already had five boyfriends. It felt weird when it happened, and you remember Hyunjin whining about how you didn’t have to ask him every five minutes if he was really okay with doing that. It had always been different with him, the good kind of different. He had never been selfish during sex; if anything, Hyunjin was too much of a giver, sometimes forgetting about his own pleasure in order to focus on yours. You thought that was the best sex you could ever have.

Until now.

Because, even with Hyunjin, there was never a genuine connection. It never felt like a gift to touch him and have him touch you. It was never anything more than sex, more than something you both did because it felt good and it was easy. He slept in your bed, and he cuddled you until morning came, but it had never once felt anything close to what Minho described.

You can’t help but wonder if Minho has ever experienced that. You desperately want to ask him, but you two aren’t close enough for that yet.

You also can’t help but wonder why you spend the rest of the evening raging a war against yourself as your mind is consumed with thoughts of what it would be like to experience that kind of sex with him.

It’s late in the night on the following Saturday, and your phone incessantly vibrating under your pillow rudely demands your attention just as you’re about to fall asleep. You squint your eyes as you type in your password. You sigh as you see Hyunjin’s name on your screen because of course it’s him.

Hyune: I’m outside open the door Hyune: please open the door? quick? Hyune: mrs. choi is gonna kill me if I use the intercom pls I don’t wanna die Hyune: I’m in my pajamas do you know how humiliating this is

Hyune: and I’m highkey pissed off Hyune: I WILL sleep on the bench outside your house if you don’t let me in and then I’ll die and who’s gonna live with the guilt? Hyune: you Hyune: OPENM TEH DOOR

You roll your eyes at his dramatic texts, stepping out of the comfort of your bed and padding across the floor as quietly as possible so as not to wake up your roommates. You open your front door and speed past the hallway and Mrs. Choi’s home, reaching the outside door in record time. It’s something you’ve done more times than you care to admit in order to let Hyunjin into your house. Your tenant was a sweet woman, insistent that she was modern and understanding of ‘young people’, but she despised people coming into your home any later than midnight.

You step outside, finding Hyunjin pacing back and forth like a creep in front of your house. True to his words, he stood in his checkered pajama pants and a black t-shirt. His hair was in a ponytail, the strands messily sticking out everywhere like he had tossed and turned in bed before coming here.

“You look like shit,” you speak up, causing him to jump and let out a gasp. You chuckle as he scowls at you, climbing the few steps to reach the door.

“I had a fight with Mingyu,” he grumbles as you two walk toward your front door. “He told me I spilled paint on his favorite shirt, which is fucking impossible since I don’t even paint anywhere near his shit.”

“I mean, you are a messy painter.”

Hyunjin shoots you a look as you close your front door behind you. You take off your shoes and walk toward your bedroom in silence. This was routine. Hyunjin knew the rules: no knocking on the outside door, no buzzing the intercom, no shouting from outside, keep your voice down in the hallway, no talking until you reach your bedroom. It was all automatic at this point.

His voice is louder when he speaks again inside your locked bedroom. “First of all, I am not a messy painter. The paint is messy, not me. Second of all, if Mingyu wasn’t a fucking idiot, maybe he wouldn’t leave his favorite shirt on the floor of the living room right by my art corner,” Hyunjin huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, “If that’s how he treats his favorite shirt, I feel bad for his girlfriend.”

You let out a chuckle, which is cut short by him pulling you into his arms. “Hyunjin, that analogy makes no sense.”

“Yes, it does. You treat your favorite shirt like shit, you treat your girlfriend like shit,” he states matter-of-factly before pulling you into a kiss.

This was routine. It was all automatic at this point.

Hyunjin kisses you like he’s angry. Because he is, and that’s one of the reasons why you two do this. You let out your frustrations during sex. You complain, and you let off steam until you both feel okay again. It’s been this way for a year and some months now, and you never once thought anything of it. It was beneficial for you both, so why change or question it?

But that was before your talk with Minho. Before you were awoken to the truth that you’d been having meaningless sex your whole life.

When you’re pulled away from your thoughts, you’re already laid in your bed with Hyunjin hovering over you. His lips and hands wander through your body as he mumbles things you can’t quite understand; you can only make out your name and Mingyu’s mixed with curses. You try to bring yourself back to the moment, bringing your legs to wrap around Hyunjin’s waist and bring him closer to you.

He stops kissing your neck and yanks his shirt over his head, his hair untying in the process and falling on his face like a curtain. You giggle and try to fix it with your fingers. Hyunjin pouts.

“Don’t you think I’m right?”

You frown and hope he can’t see your confused expression in the dim lighting. You truly weren’t paying any attention to what he had been saying, too engrossed in your thoughts and too busy feeling sorry for yourself. Hyunjin’s tendency to tell you about his frustrations during sex always left you a bit puzzled, but it was also oddly sweet. It was like he trusted you so deeply as a friend that he believed he could share anything with you, no matter the time.

So you nod, lightly pulling at his hair. “Of course you’re right.”

He hums and buries his head on your chest, grinding his hips into your clothed core. “Of course I’m right,” he mumbles under his breath.

Everything is a blur after that, your mind insistent on repeating Minho’s words like an annoying echo. When Hyunjin’s tongue fucked you hastily, and he murmured something about you tasting so good, all you could hear was Minho’s voice telling you how tasting the person you love feels like heaven. When Hyunjin pushed his cock into you, his hands gripping your thighs and head buried in your neck, all you could think about was how this sex paled in comparison to what you could’ve been having — what you could have already had — if only you weren’t so damn unlovable.

You knew that Minho didn’t intend to make you feel bad with his words. They weren’t targeted at you. But that didn’t stop your mind from sabotaging and putting yourself down. It was one of your biggest talents, after all.

Your body was present and responsive the entire time; you moaned because it felt good, and you kissed Hyunjin because you wanted to. But you were mentally somewhere else.

And the worst thing is, you’re a hundred percent sure Hyunjin doesn’t even notice it.

Because this wasn’t love. This was only sex.

And this was all you had ever known.

Time flies by faster than your brain can comprehend; before you know it, another month goes by. You only managed to go to your favorite bakery with Minho one more time before your work hours were changed, your shift now starting a mere thirty minutes after your Japanese class ends. He still walked you to work twice a week, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t upset you to have to let go of your weekly talks.

Minho also became busier due to his own job. With so little time to see each other face to face outside of class, most of your talks took place over text. He talked about his job with so much adoration it made you a little jealous; his partners were now simply friends he worked with, and his joy over finally being able to create a cozy game made it so that he pushed himself over his limit, often sleeping on his friend’s couch after working until four a.m. and getting through the next day on excessive amounts of coffee.

That was how you two came up with the idea of Minho dropping by the café where you work to pick up coffee for him and his friends. He would drop by at least twice every day, his friend’s house — which also served as their office — only one bus stop away.

The first time Minho came by, he had his wallet and phone in one hand, a sharpie and a block of sticky notes in the other. You eyed him curiously as he scribbled on the piece of paper while your co-worker prepared his coffee. When he was done, he stuck the note to the monitor in front of you on the counter. You furrowed your brows as your eyes shifted from the Japanese words on the bright yellow note back to Minho’s smug face. You were certainly grateful he at least had the courtesy of including the romanization of whatever he had written down. Not that it helped you in any way.

“Since our studying sessions after class were rudely taken from us, this is your extra homework. It’s all words we already learned. You just gotta think a little bit, and you’ll figure it out. You’re smart, I know you can do it,” He assured you.

Expect you weren’t that smart and ended up giving up by the time you got home that night. The piece of paper was no longer sticky on the border due to you carrying it around all day, boring holes into it as if that would magically give you the answer. You snapped a picture of it as you got ready for bed and sent it to Minho, begging him to put you out of your misery and simply give you the answer. ‘I want to drink coffee,’ he replied. You slapped your hand over your forehead with so much force you were sure the entire house had heard you. He was right; you did learn that in class. Curse the Japanese language for being so difficult.

After that, it became a routine. You waited expectantly for Minho’s visits daily, but you are extra excited today. It’s a Friday, and your birthday is tomorrow. After much pestering from Eunha, you agreed to have a small gathering at your house. It only made sense to invite Minho; he’s become one of your closest friends in the two months you’ve known him, after all.

As he walks into the coffee shop, sticky notes and sharpie in hand, you chuckle to yourself. You two chat about the development of his game, with Minho kindly using layman’s terms when explaining it to you. He also tells you about how one of his friends got so frustrated with a code that he threw his phone at a wall before immediately regretting it and crying on the floor next to Minho’s desk. Before you can get worried, he assures you that it’s just an ordinary day at the office, and the three of them end up laughing everything off at the end of the day.

After taking his order, you watch as he begins writing down your homework for the day on the small piece of paper in his hand. As you look around the coffee shop, most tables are empty, and the sun is starting to set outside the glass doors.

“You wanna come over this Saturday?” You ask Minho, who looks up at you before adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. That was one thing you learned about Minho since he began coming over: he wears glasses. Not every day, but enough times for you to notice how good he looks with them. But friends find each other attractive all the time, you justify it. “You never came over to my house, and my roommates really want to meet you. Plus, it’s my birthday tomorrow.”

Minho’s eyes widen. “Your birthday? And you save that information to the end?”

“It’s not a big deal. I usually never even celebrate.” You shrug lightly. You’ve never been big on birthdays, as you just don’t see the reason why it’s supposed to feel different from any other day of the year. “But my roommate pestered me to do something this year, so I agreed to have a party.”

Minho shifts on his feet. “I… really hate parties…” He trails off.

“It’s not a party party. I promise!” You hold up your pinky finger. “It’s more of a get-together, just my roommates and my only two other friends. And, you…” You trail off, “If you come.”

Minho blinks his eyes a couple of times before tearing the piece of paper he was writing on from the pad and crumpling it in his hand. He quickly jots down something new and sticks it to your forehead.

“Minho!” You scold him, to which he laughs, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling. You advert your gaze from him as your persistent thoughts regarding how unfairly pretty Minho is begin to flood your brain once again. You take the note and analyze it:

はい (Hai)

You smile as you understand the word, looking up at him.

“I’d love to come to your birthday party,” He beams. “Thank you for inviting me.”

To say Minho is nervous would be an understatement.

He gets out of his car twice, ready to march back inside his friend’s apartment like a coward and pretend that nothing happened both times. Only when he thinks back to how you smiled at him when he agreed to your invitation does he find the courage to start the car and drive to your house. He’d noticed for a while now how much he likes you. But it was when he agreed with the idea of going to the café you worked at to pick up coffee that it truly dawned on him that he really liked you. Minho hated taking the bus, he hated doing anything other than zoning out on the couch during his breaks, he hated bustling shops, and he hated how his co-workers both managed to have such intricate coffee orders.

Yet he agreed to that idea, even suggesting he drop by two times a day.

He noticed he’d felt a familiar small whirlpool inside his chest whenever he was with you, when he heard you talk about something you liked or saw you smile. He’s also noticed that this tiny whirlpool has been growing bigger and bigger the more he’s been around you.

But that doesn’t scare him. Minho loves love. He loves to be in love, to love someone, and to make that person feel loved. It’s his favorite thing about life. If he was honest, he missed it so much he didn’t know how he was able to live without it.

Just down the block from your house, he parks his car and gathers his phone and his present for you — clearly clumsily wrapped, even with his co-workers’ help. He feels another wave of nervousness wash over him as he approaches the house; he’s an hour late and needs to mentally prepare to socialize with people he’s never met before. Minho chuckles as he realizes a silly party makes him more nervous than the prospect of possibly falling in love.

You open the door almost as soon as he rings the intercom, and he walks down the hallway into your house door; the crooked box he’s been holding makes his hands sweat. The first thing he notices as you open the door is your styled hair with a big white bow on the back, looking much prettier than the ugly bow he and his friends managed to stick on top of his present. He smiles at the sight and scratches his ear in a futile attempt to stop them from turning red.

God, he really liked you, didn’t he?

“Thank you for coming,” you tell him with a smile. Minho notices the quiet music playing inside the house, the simple decorations, and the cake on top of the kitchen counter. He mentally sighs in relief. This truly wasn’t anything like a big party. “You’re wearing your glasses again,” you point out as Minho walks inside and removes his shoes. He subconsciously reaches his left hand to touch his wire-rimmed glasses that sit on his nose bridge. He grimaces and curses at his friend for making him stay later than he was supposed to today.

“I had no time to go home and change,” He apologizes, fingers now toying with the stupid bow on top of the box. “I usually wear contacts, but they make my eyes dry if I stare at the computer for too long, so I just… wear my glasses at work…” Minho trails off, suddenly feeling stupid, his eyes looking anywhere but toward you.

You chuckle, lightly touching his glasses for a second before moving away again. “You always come to the coffee shop wearing them, and I think you look really good,” you assured him. His eyes quickly met yours, only for you to advert your gaze this time. “You should wear them more often.”

Minho only hums, lightly nodding his head. He feels stupid all over again as the image of himself throwing his contact lenses down the drain crosses his mind.

Clearing his throat, he finally hands you your gift. You giggle at the mismatched wrapping paper and poor excuse of a bow, which makes Minho let out a chuckle and murmur an apology. You open the box, and your eyes light up when you spot the stuffed bunny you have been raving about since you two met. It was the only animal missing from your collection, but you couldn’t find the right time to save up money to buy it. Minho didn’t need to ask if you liked it as he watched your smile grow bigger as you looked at the brown bunny.

“Come, I gotta put him in my bed now,” you beamed and took Minho’s hand in yours, leading him to the living room. There, five people sat on the couch and on the floor. Minho furrows his brows as he takes in a head of light brown hair covered by a familiar beanie. “These are my friends. Eunha’s the girl with short hair on the floor, and Soojung’s the one with blonde hair next to her. They’re also my roommates,” You point at them as you speak. “That’s Jisung sitting next to Soojung; he’s also her boyfriend. And then Hyunjin, with the long hair, sitting next to Chan on the couch. Everyone, this is Minho from my Japanese class.”

With that, you pad off to your room with your bunny in tow. As Chan finally turns to look at Minho, his shocked expression mirrors his. They stare at each other for a while before Chan finally breaks the silence.

“What the fuck, that’s my co-worker.”

Minho narrows his eyes. “So this is why you had to leave an hour earlier today?”

As you come out of your room, you chuckle. “Chan is your co-worker?” You ask Minho, “I can’t believe this. He’s been our friend for longer than I’ve known you. He came like a package deal when Jisung began dating Soojung.”

“Damn, dude, you hate me so much you never talked about me to your friend?” Chan gasped, a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt.”

Minho rolls his eyes but is unable to stop a small grin from forming on his lips as the entire living room erupts in laughter. “Of course I talked about you. I talked about you and Seungmin all the time. It’s just I…” Minho shifts on his feet, shrugging. “I never said your names.”

More laughter seeps out of the group of people, including Chan, and Minho finds himself laughing along this time, shaking his head at his own stupidity.

He sits beside Chan on the couch while Hyunjin heads to the kitchen with you. He quickly asks him how he came to be friends with you in the first place. Chan explains that he’s been in a class with Jisung for almost two years, and the boy had always pestered him about ‘old people’ needing to hang out with people their age. That’s how he ended up meeting Soojung as soon as she became Jisung’s girlfriend. You and Eunha were an inevitable addition, seeing as you were not only roommates but also great friends.

You offer Minho a beer, which he declines. As much as he wanted to, no beer was worth having to take the bus back home. He silently sips his cola as he watches your group of friends chat. You end up sitting beside him on the couch, your friend Hyunjin to your right.

Minho finds that he missed getting together with people like this and didn’t even realize it. His only friends were left behind back at home, and although they were less than an hour away by bus, their busy lives prevented them from meeting in person. Minho’s favorite memories from his teenage years were having his friends over and just doing nothing for hours, talking about stupid shit until their stomachs hurt from laughing. Eating takeout on the couch with Chan and Seungmin after work came close, but they were always too tired and too stressed to entertain the idea of making jokes. Those were times when Minho realized he had really become an adult.

Jisung’s loud voice suddenly booms through the living room and startles an already drunk-looking Eunha, who murmurs something about the younger boy giving her a heart attack one day.

“I’m bored,” he grumbles, draping his body over Soojung. “Let’s play spin the bottle.”

Soojung rolls her eyes at him, flicking his forehead. “Are you a teenager?”

Jisung pouts, sitting up straight once more. “We’re in university. University students play this fucking game all the time,” he states matter-of-factly. “Don’t make me regret falling for an older woman.”

“Jisung, I’m only three years older than you, I’m not—”

“Don’t make me call you noona.”

Soojung inhales deeply before turning to face the people sitting on the couch, placing one of the empty beer bottles scattered around her feet on top of the coffee table. “Let’s play spin the bottle. But let’s do dares instead of kissing, that’s too boring.”

Jisung beams, cuddling close to her like a needy child. Minho chuckles at the sight.

Eunha scoots closer to the couple so the group is seated in a circle around the coffee table, half of them on the couch and half on the floor. Minho never had the chance to play spin the bottle, which seemed to be such a staple game of one’s teenage years. By the time his friends were off sneaking into clubs and drinking behind their parents’ backs, he was already in a committed relationship and well aware of the fact that he didn’t enjoy parties.

It seems silly, but he’s glad he won’t live past his youth without experiencing such a trivial thing.

Soojung spins the bottle, and the neck stops facing Chan while the bottom faces Jisung.

“Take your shirt off,” Jisung waves a finger at Chan, who looks somewhat disoriented. Minho chuckles under his breath just as you do the same. You two face each other and let out a hearty laugh, your arm coming to rest on his bicep before retrieving back to your lap faster than Minho hoped it would.

Soojung squishes Jisung’s cheeks and places a small kiss on his lips. “You’re such a fucking chaotic bisexual,” she giggles, “Y’know, Chan, Jisung has had the biggest crush on you since you two first met.”

Chan shakes his head with a stifled laugh and proceeds to remove his shirt, neatly placing it on his lap.

Jisung is next to spin the bottle, this time landing on Soojung, who you dare to show her most embarrassing text. After showing the group a string of texts showing raunchy screenshots of a manhwa she’d been reading at that time, all sent to one of her class group chats which included some professors, she lets out a heavy sigh and orders Eunha to spin the bottle before any questions can be asked.

This time, the neck faces you while the bottom faces Eunha herself. With a smile, the short-haired girl dares you to kiss Minho.

He feels his smile drop at the very second the words leave her lips. This was not what he had in mind for tonight.

“What?” You sputter, “Why?”

Eunha shrugs, adjusting herself so she’s seated upright and staring right at you. “Well, he’s the only one here who would be actually fun to see you kiss. Jisung and Soojung are okay with each other hooking up with other people, so that’s no fun,” she explains, using her fingers to list her reasons, “I’m not into girls, so that’s no fun for me. Hyunjin is too obvious. We all already know Chan, so it would also be boring. Minho is like fresh meat. That is fun.”

Minho’s brain begins finding a suitable excuse for why you two can’t kiss, because he’s certain you have no interest in doing it. Not only are you friends, but your reaction didn’t exactly exude excitement at the prospect of kissing him. Just as he’s ready to lie through his teeth, you turn to him and place your hand on his shoulder, a touch so soft he’s barely able to feel it through the fabric of his shirt.

“Is this okay with you?” You ask him, the tone of your voice so sweet Minho feels like it melts his every thought until his brain is nothing but a sugary pool filled with only you. So he nods because god, yes, this is okay with him.

You gingerly place your right hand on his cheek, bringing your faces closer until your lips press together. The whirlpool inside his chest spins fast, like a vortex dragging every sense of his body toward you and only you.

You remain still for a few seconds, Minho’s eyes opening slightly to search for any sign of regret on your face. Before he can even properly look at you, your lips begin to move against his — gently and carefully, like you’re not sure if this is what he wants. Minho deepens the kiss and hesitates three times before committing to placing his left hand on your waist. The giggles around the two of you nothing but a muffled murmur to him. He presses another kiss to your lips, his body shifting until he is all but caging you against the back of the couch. But just as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, you push him back with a smile, Minho chasing after your lips.

He blinks a couple of times, eyes zoning into your smudged red lipstick. He subconsciously bites his own bottom lip, wondering if any of the color transferred to him. The surrounding murmurs bring Minho back to the moment this time, awkwardly clearing his throat before lifting himself off of you and sitting upright on the couch. He tunes out every comment regarding the kiss to the best of his abilities, focusing his energy on slowing down his heart rate. When he catches you giggling while looking at him, your arm touching his bicep yet again, he nods, grabbing his cola bottle from the floor and taking a sip.

Minho can’t remember the last time kissing someone got him so worked up. He entered a long-term relationship at such a young age that he’s only now realizing how unaccustomed he is to kissing someone new, to the rush that comes with having your lips pressing against the ones of someone you like. It was exhilarating and a bit terrifying all at the same time. He was awkward, unsure where to put his hands, uncertain if you were enjoying yourself. He was also greedy, wanting the moment to last for much longer than it had.

This had cemented the fact that he does, in fact, really like you.

After kissing you, the whirlpool living in his heart had now fully transformed into a tiny hurricane — with great chances of growing even bigger.

Minho only notices the game has continued upon hearing your voice complaining beside him. He watches as Soojung shrugs.

“It’s the only thing I could think of, sorry.”

“But why?” Hyunjin asks, placing his cup on the coffee table. “It’s a stupid dare.”

The blonde girl scoffs. “No, it’s not. I’ve had to basically live with you two for the past year, and it’s common knowledge how easily you get a boner for her.”

“Not true,” Hyunjin retorts, although it sounds more like a question than an affirmation.

Eunha blurts out, “You once got a boner watching her stir a cake mix.”

Hyunjin opens and closes his mouth before groaning, pulling you into his lap by the waist. You apologize to him quietly, to which Hyunjin shakes his head with a small smile.

Minho feels as if he’s intruding on something private.

You sit on Hyunjin’s knees, almost falling off his lap as you clearly try to keep some distance between the two of you. Hyunjin clicks his tongue and pulls you closer to him until your back is pressed up against his chest. He whispers something in your ear, to which you lightly slap his arm as his lips upturn into a grin.

Minho is definitely intruding on something private.

At some point, you turn so you’re sitting across Hyunjin’s lap, your body now facing Minho. He can’t help but watch with dark eyes as the younger boy’s hands wander through your body; playing with the buttons on your blouse, squeezing your thighs, and caressing your skin a little too close to the hem of your skirt. He furrows his brows as he tries to understand your relationship with Hyunjin, seeing as you’re obviously not put off by his hands on your body.

Minho is so transfixed by the sight and his racing thoughts that he only realizes the game has ended when someone taps his shoulder from behind the couch. When he looks back, Chan is holding a cigarette and motioning towards the stairs that lead to the house’s terrace.

In the chilly open space above the house, they sit on a bench behind a tall vertical planter. Minho wonders who tends to the garden as he observes the various flowers, as well as some vegetables and herbs scattered around him. The terrace is small; the garden taking up all the space, an old wooden railing that overlooks the quiet street the only other thing in his sight.

He and Chan chat about school and work, as they often do nowadays. After Chan recently broke up with his girlfriend, Minho found that his friend had become much more closed off, so the list of subjects they would talk about became minimal. Chan bites his thumb before taking a long drag of his cigarette. He chuckles when he mentions being scared of graduating next year. Minho bumps his shoulder with him, arguing that being in his situation is worse. He admits that he regrets starting university late and that being in his first year when he should already be in his third is discouraging. Chan dismisses his worries, reminding him of how Minho is often the one to fix broken codes and come up with ideas for their game whenever Seungmin gets stuck.

“A degree is just a piece of paper,” Chan says, throwing his cigarette butt at a nearby trashcan. “You’re already a fantastic programmer, Minho.”

“You’re just saying that because I saved your ass today.”

Chan shrugs. “You’ve saved my ass basically every day since we started working together.” After a beat of silence, he asks, “Why did you start uni so late, anyway? You never told me.”

Minho hums, digging his brain for a way to sum up the entire story. “It’s complicated—”

He’s interrupted by footsteps on the stairs leading to the terrace. A loud giggle echoes through the open space before you and Hyunjin step into their field of vision. The long-haired boy holds you from behind, and you two stagger toward the railing.

“Wish everyone would go home already so I could just fuck you,” Hyunjin whines as he turns your body around so you’re facing him. Minho almost chokes on nothing at those words, and Chan stifles a laugh with his hand. He curses the small space as they’re able to so clearly hear everything you’re saying.

You playfully kick Hyunjin’s shin. “Don’t say it like that, Hyune, what the fuck.”

“It’s true, though,” Hyunjin continues, pressing you against the railing. He towers over you, so the only thing Minho can see from where he’s seated is your white skirt floating in the wind behind the tall boy. “I had a stressful, terrible, awful, dreadful week. All I kept thinking about was coming over and relaxing with you.”

“See, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so awful.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “There’s nothing awful about fucking. I know how much you like it, don’t act so coy.”

Minho watches as your hands clench around Hyunjin’s gray shirt, pulling him closer and kissing him softly, much like you had done to him a few moments before.

Minho presses his lips into a thin line. He connects every dot available to him inside his head and suddenly feels pathetic.

Hyunjin being too obvious of a choice for you to kiss, his hands all over your body, his words about fucking you, the way you kissed him like it was a habit.

If you had a boyfriend, why did you agree to kiss him?

The words swarm Minho’s brain. He vaguely recalls you and Hyunjin eventually walking out of the terrace. Chan starts a one-sided conversation about one of his classes, with Minho humming after every couple of sentences to appear like he’d been listening when his head is too busy wondering how to feel about everything.

Minho recalls Eunha walking up the stairs and shouting for the two of them to come downstairs to sing you happy birthday. He recalls Hyunjin’s hands wandering through your body throughout the song, his lips pressing small kisses on your face and lips as you smiled. He recalls feeling confused, stressed, jealous, and pathetic.

Minho is only truly back to the present moment once Chan’s voice bids him a loud goodbye, and the door slamming behind him makes his senses finally return to him. As he looks around, he notices that the only people left in the living room are Jisung, Hyunjin, and you. Beside him on the couch, Hyunjin stretches with a loud groan.

“I’m gonna take a shower. D’you have any of my clothes in your room?”

You sigh from where you’re sitting on the floor, resting against the television stand. “Of course, I do. You’re always living shit behind, you’re like our third roommate at this point.”

Hyunjin chuckles, walking over to give you a small peck on the lips before disappearing into your room. Minho gnaws on his bottom lip with a bitter smile as he realizes Hyunjin will sleep over at your house. The ugly feelings return as he remembers his thoughts about you these past few weeks when he unknowingly cultivated too big of a crush on you. Even on his way here tonight, when he had chuckled to himself at his lack of nervousness in the face of potential love.

Love.

Minho can’t help but wonder why your view of love is so negative when you’re in a relationship. And, at the same time, he doesn’t dare to think about it for too long, fully aware that his foolish affection-filled brain will come up with a myriad of reasons — all where your boyfriend is the sole culprit for your distaste — and Minho knows better than to let those thoughts linger for too long inside his mind. He knows himself all too well, knows only awful shit would come out of assuming things about your relationship; the urge to beat Hyunjin senseless for being a shitty boyfriend and making you think that way about love being the worst of them.

“I’m too drunk to go back to my dorm,” Jisung suddenly speaks, his eyes glazed over as he stares ahead. “Gonna crash here tonight, too.”

Minho takes that as his cue to leave.

You walk him outside, a small smile on your face the entire time. He feels guilty not being able to reciprocate the gesture. As you tell him goodbye, thanking him for coming, you pull him into a hug. You hadn’t hugged much since you met, and Minho foolishly wants to draw you closer to him, to feel your body pressed against his just as it was pressed against Hyunjin most of the night. But he can’t do that.

“Are you okay to walk back by yourself?” You ask him as you pull away.

Minho nods, forcing out a small smile. “My car is parked just down the block.”

“That’s why you didn’t drink!” You exclaim with a giggle, “I forget that most people our age already drive. My anxiety didn’t allow me the chance to even try and get a license, so I just accepted my fate of taking the bus.”

“I could drive you…” Minho trails off. There he goes again, being pathetic. “If I have the time… You can give me a call and I’d be happy to drive you anywhere.”

You smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another embrace. Minho smiles genuinely as he buries his head in your hair.

The drive back home has Minho feeling stupid all over again as he thinks about how you’re probably in bed with Hyunjin by now. The whirlpool is back inside his chest, but it isn’t good or welcome this time. It’s agonizing and painful.

Love had never been painful. Love had never been bad.

But he had never experienced love toward someone who already loved somebody else. Although you brazenly state that you don’t believe in it, you must feel some type of love toward Hyunjin if you’re willing to be his girlfriend.

As he silently drives home, Minho finds himself agreeing with you.

Maybe love can be bad, after all.

Minho feels stupid.

This has become a constant in his life.

He had always thought of himself as a logical person. Programming had taught him that everything is predictable and fixable if you work on it hard enough. A broken code? It may take him six hours of staring at the computer to figure out it was nothing but a missing semicolon, but he will get there in the end. It was annoying and frustrating, but it was always something easily fixed.

He thought love was like that. It had always been like that with him.

Until he fell for you.

Minho was coming to terms with the fact that maybe love and programming were nothing alike. Love isn’t predictable. Loving someone who is already in love with someone else isn’t easily fixed. He can’t backspace and delete your boyfriend from the equation.

It’s been a little over six months since you two first met. Minho has consistently gone to the café you work at every day, and you two still had endless talks over text messages. You talk about everything and anything, from silly things like sharing pictures of both your growing plushie collections or your love of that particular coffee shop’s lemon cake to more serious topics like how Minho learned how to cook when he was twelve so his mom wouldn’t have to do it by herself, and now his roommates take advantage of that, or how sad you are that next year you will have to leave the house you’ve grown to love so much.

But, whether it is in person or through text, you still avoid the topic of love. You don’t ever bring up Hyunjin unless he’s part of a story you were already telling, and Minho feels his heart heavy as he slowly allows himself to imagine what it could be that led you to hate love so much.

He desperately wants to ask you, know your reasons, and make sure you’re happy with your boyfriend. But he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries and doesn’t know how to go about it without scaring you. So he never does anything, like a coward.

Minho finds himself coming over to your sharehouse on most weekends since summer break ended. Your countless get-togethers at that house have become a hard-to-break habit. Hyunjin, Jisung, and your roommates are always assured to be there, with Chan joining whenever he isn’t overwhelmed with work or school, which was rare.

Minho had always been a hopeless romantic, always doing things for love that people repeatedly warned would result in regret. This time, it was forgoing visiting his parents and friends back home just to spend most of his summer with you. Despite not being able to pursue you in the way he truly wanted to, Minho still wanted to be your friend. You were still a fantastic person he loved to have around; that didn’t change simply because you had a boyfriend. Although he could feel a bit of his heart cracking every time he had to see you, all while knowing he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for you.

He couldn’t change your perspective of love if he weren’t allowed to love you.

In all the time he spent at your house during summer break, he ended up becoming good friends with Jisung, as you tended to stick next to Hyunjin most of the time. Minho didn’t mind it; he is your boyfriend, after all. At least, that’s what he repeats to himself every night he comes over like a mantra as he almost masochistically forces himself to watch how Hyunjin kisses your lips and caresses your skin or how you play with his hair and snuggle with him on the couch. He also endures the countless nights he’s left your house knowing all too well that Hyunjin would be spending the night with you in a way that Minho can only ever dream about.

Tonight, in particular, Hyunjin seemed to be all over you like bees on honey, buzzing around you everywhere you went, his hands never leaving your body as he pulled you closer to him every time you even slightly pulled away. Because god forbid your bodies not be touching in some way for even a split second. Before he knows it, Minho is downing his third bottle of beer of the night.

From where he’s sitting on the couch, Minho rolls his eyes as discreetly as he can while he watches Hyunjin pull you to sit on his lap on the floor as you all get ready to play a game of cards. He gnaws on his lower lip because he knows he’s being petty and borderline childish. You’re Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Of course he’s all over you, of course he wants to be close to you, of course he wants you on his lap. Minho concludes with a bitter chuckle that he is, indeed, pathetic when it comes to you.

He gulps down more of the awful-tasting cheap beer.

The night comes to a close after far too many rounds of Cards Against Humanity, with Jisung winning more than half of them. His ethics and morals fly out the window the moment the cards are handed to him, as he manages to create the most absurdly offensive phrases known to men every single time. Minho found himself groaning and yelling at the younger boy as the alcohol took over his system. He doesn’t know how much of it was simply his annoyance at Hyunjin clinging to you like a koala throughout the entire game disguised as competitiveness.

He doesn’t think he’d like to know either.

Like every night he comes over, Minho is the last person to go home. He has to call an Uber, far too buzzed to want to sit at a bus stop all alone at this time of night. He hadn’t even noticed how he kept downing his drinks until he felt the familiar buzz of inebriation wash over his body a while before the game ended. Although slamming his fist into the coffee table with a whine about how he had only been given lame cards should’ve been a sign.

As he waits outside your house by the fence, he suddenly hears the door shut behind him and your voice calling out to him. He smiles at the faint slur of your speech and the way you drag out the last syllable of his name like you always did when you were a bit drunk.

“I told you to wait for me!” You reprimand, opening the gate to stand next to him. “Look how lonely you look here all by yourself.”

Minho just shrugs with a smile, shaking his head. He did wait. He waited almost half an hour after announcing he should leave as you disappeared into your room with Hyunjin. He was still waiting, in fact, only mindlessly scrolling on his phone for the past ten minutes instead of finding a ride as he hoped you would come outside when you saw he wasn’t in the living room anymore.

You poke his shoulder, bringing his attention away from his phone to your smiling face.

“Tonight was fun, wasn’t it? Especially that last round when Hyunjin won after being tied with Jisung for the whole game,” you grinned, “Seeing Jisung make a whole damn case about how much better his card was really made my night. Think that’s the first time I’ve seen him act like a law student since I met him.”

Minho chuckles, bringing his attention back to his phone. Seeing your smile and how your eyes light up while you talk about something you like brought back the whirlpool inside his chest, which wasn’t a pleasant feeling any longer. It made him glum to think how a once beautiful feeling had turned into nothing but discomfort simply because he was lovelorn.

He hums. “You must be proud to have your boyfriend put an end to Jisung’s annoying winning streak.”

“What do you mean?”

Minho looks up from his phone, eyes wandering through your puzzled face. He furrows his brows for a second. Maybe you’re both drunker than he’d thought.

“I mean, it must’ve been nice to see Hyunjin win after Jisung basically made us all want to quit the game,” he explains, watching as your expression turns from confusion into shock before you let out a loud laugh.

Minho’s eyes widen, worried your laughter might wake up your neighbors. He gently shushes you, his arm grabbing your shoulder, but your smiling face only makes his lips stretch out into a grin. He suppresses a giggle as you catch your breath, shaking your head.

Minho smiles at you so fondly he’s certain he looks like an idiot. “What’s so funny?”

“Hyunjin isn’t my boyfriend,” you explain like it’s obvious. “We’re just friends. I thought you knew that.”

Minho only then realizes he had never once heard you refer to Hyunjin as a boyfriend, nor had any of the people around you. But his assumptions weren’t so ill-judged, either. You two acted like a couple. It wasn’t so absurd to assume that you were one.

He finds himself staring at your amused face for a few seconds before forcing himself to turn his attention back to his phone.

You acted like a couple, but you were just friends. Minho groaned mentally.

“So, you’re like friends with benefits?”

“Yeah… I don’t particularly believe in love anymore, Minho. I thought you knew that from our talk a while ago,” You chuckle, shifting on your feet. “Hyunjin is one of my best friends. We just hook up ‘cause it’s convenient.”

Minho hums, his fingers ghosting over his phone screen. “Sounds like you’re running away from love.”

He blinks a couple of times as he takes in his own words. He would have never said such a thing if it hadn’t been for the liquid courage flowing through his veins.

You shrug, moving to sit on the white bench just outside the house. “Well, yeah, that is what I’m doing. Love hasn’t been kind to me at all. I have no interest in going after it, only to be hurt again. It’s a movie I’ve watched before and I hated the ending every time.”

Minho bites the inside of his cheek, finally clicking the button to find a ride, his thumb pressing on his phone screen more forcefully than he intended. He felt angry. You didn’t deserve to settle for a friend with benefits due to convenience. Had you wanted to be in that situation, it was your every right to do so, but you were in it out of fear of being hurt.

He felt sad. He wished you didn’t equate your past experiences with love to everything it could be. Bad experiences in love were possible for everyone — even for him, who used to believe unwaveringly that love could never be hurtful — but that didn’t mean it was all there was to it. Minho desperately wanted to show you that. The good side of love, the side that made him put it above everything else in his life on so many occasions, the side that made him crave it even now when it hurt more than it felt good.

And, strangely, Minho felt relieved. It was a small percentage of the chart of current emotions he was experiencing, but prevalent nonetheless. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he felt happy Hyunjin wasn’t your boyfriend and, most importantly, that you weren’t stuck in an unhappy or toxic relationship, as he had so often feared.

His ride arrives, and he’s overcome with a wave of courage. Minho would much rather live with regret than with a constant ‘what if’.

Shoving his phone inside his pocket, he offers his hand to you, who looks up at him curiously from where you’re sitting on the bench before taking his hand. Minho pulls you to your feet and hugs you. With his hand on your waist, he pulls your body closer to him, finally holding you tightly the way he’s always wanted to do. He presses a kiss to your head, bringing his lips to your ear and whispering, “I’m gonna change your mind.”

He feels your body shake with a chuckle, but he only tightens his hold on you.

“What?”

“About love, I’m gonna change your mind,” He answers matter-of-factly, “You deserve to feel love without being afraid.”

Minho pulls back from the embrace just enough to see your face, and he’s surprised to find you smiling up at him. He smiles back.

“I will change your mind.”

Minho had just dropped you off at your house, ready to drive around aimlessly until he absolutely had to go back to his dorm, when Seungmin texted him.

Kim Seungmin: hey my sister’s engagement dinner is tonight Kim Seungmin: and i might have fucked up something in the code i was working on so now there’s a chance that you fish 100 rare fish at once 🤪 Kim Seungmin: pls pls do me a solid and fix it before chan sees it and kills me? Kim Seungmin: love you hyung 💚

Minho initially groaned at the messages, thinking of the many ways in which he could murder Seungmin and get away with it. But, ultimately, he didn’t want to go back to his dorm anyway, so he gladly turned his car around. If he was lucky, this would take hours and he would have a valid excuse to crash in Chan’s cramped living room.

He punches the code to the front door and his friend greets him with a puzzled expression.

“I forgot to do the, uh, troubleshooting for this week,” Minho blurts out. It’s the first lie he can come up with, and he hopes it’s convincing enough. Chan nods slowly. Seungmin might have saved him from having to endure his roommates on a Saturday night, but he still owes him.

“It’s all good,” Chan says with a sigh, “I’m most likely gonna pull an all-nighter designing these new characters. Anyway, how did you waste your time today?”

Minho has been taking you on what he likes to call Subtle Dates for a month now.

Chan affectionately calls them Waste of Time Dates.

Minho rolls his eyes, sitting down on his own desk. “We went to Han River and walked around till sundown, then watched the Banpo Bridge water show.”

Days like today were rare, so Minho was happy. Most weekends, it seemed as if the whole world was conspiring against anything he planned with you.

“Oh, how romantic of you,” Chan gasps, feigning amazement. “Did you at least kiss her this time?”

“You know I can’t just kiss her like that. I know she’d freak out if I tried to do anything romantic with her,” Minho taps his fingers on his desk, knowing he sounds ridiculous. But he has a plan. He just hopes this plan actually works out soon. “I don’t mind being patient.”

He hears Chan scoff. “So, you took her on another one-sided date and then drove her home so Hyunjin can fuck her?”

Minho’s fingers stop tapping on his desk, his hand coming down to slam on it before he can stop himself. He lets out a heavy sigh, and Chan mumbles an apology. But, the truth is, he knows his friend is right. Just last weekend, Minho dropped you off straight into Hyunjin’s arms, the younger boy waiting for you to come back in front of your house.

And Hyunjin wasn’t the only inconvenience that rendered it almost impossible for the two of you to spend time together. Minho had to cut most of your dates short due to Chan calling him about something urgent that only he could fix at work, or you canceled altogether because your roommate was upset and you didn’t have the heart to leave her alone like that. There were also times when Minho was too tired to even go out at all, like on the day of his birthday, which resulted in you coming over to Chan’s apartment and eating cheap takeout food with him and his two friends.

Minho found himself dealing with countless bumps in the road when it came to finding a way into your heart.

“I didn’t mean to say it like that,” Chan says hesitantly, “You clearly like her a lot.”

Minho repeatedly opens and closes the code he’s supposed to fix. He sighs. “I like her more than a lot, and I don’t even know when that happened.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” His friend explains, his face disappearing behind his own computer screen. “I just can’t see what will change if you go on dates with her when she doesn’t even know they’re dates and if she’s just gonna go home and have sex with someone else. I don’t get it. What difference does it make?”

He can hear Chan scoffing, although he tries to disguise it by clearing his throat. Minho shakes his head.

“It makes all the difference because that’s not love. I wanna show her what love is, and that it isn’t always bad. I promised her that I would.”

Chan sighs, sliding his chair toward the mini-fridge by the couch. “Agree to disagree?” He asks, grabbing a bottle of water and tossing it in Minho’s direction. He grabs it mid-air, just before it hits him in the face, and clicks his tongue.

“Agree to disagree.”

Minho plugs his headphones into the computer, drowning out the noise of Chan’s pen sliding across his iPad with his brown noise playlist. But he can’t drown out the obstinate thought ringing inside his head, screaming at him that Chan is right.

Taking you out on dates — which you don’t even know are dates — doesn’t really make a difference if you’re just going to go back to your convenience with Hyunjin at the end of the day. If you think you’re just friends going out together, and you go back home at night to the comfort of sex without the love you’ve been running away from for so long, what Minho is doing truly is useless.

It’s just like when he argues with Seungmin through their codes, screaming at the younger boy in all caps about something that’s broken, even though he knows he’s going to be the one who will end up having to fix it.

Minho’s fingers come to a halt on the keyboard.

Closing his work, he opens up Google and finds the first flight he can to Japan. Almost as if he’s on autopilot, and his brain is completely shut off. He books the flight and the cheapest hotel he can find, using almost all the money he’s saved up to move out of his hell of a dorm. It might be the most idiotic thing he has ever done in his life, but he’s so in love it hurts him. And he loves love, and love with you — the thought of that alone has his heart beating at his throat. He doesn’t want to keep on with these futile attempts at trying to make you see that love is good and that, maybe, love can be good with him.

The truth is, he feels scared. Maybe even more scared than you do. He is terrified of knowing the answer, of finding out that maybe he could change your mind about love but that it would simply lead you to someone else’s arms and he would have to endure the pain of unrequited love until it inevitably faded away with time.

Minho would gladly live with that pain if it meant you were happy.

But he needed to know.

He adjusted his glasses — a childhood nervous habit that returned after he started wearing them more often since you complimented him months ago — and retrieved his phone from his backpack.

He typed and deleted more times than he’d like to admit.

Me: Hey, it’s late sorry Me: Just wanted to know if you’d be up for a trip to Japan? Me: In two weeks Me: For study purposes Me: We’d finally have the chance to use what we learned in class lol Me: Chan was supposed to go with me but he has a family thing so he can’t anymore Me: Everything’s already paid for and he said he doesn’t mind if you go in his place Me: Lmk what you think

Minho’s fingers typed as his brain came up with excuses and lies, sending more messages than he needed to. He couldn’t tell you he booked a whole damn trip with you just to see if maybe, possibly, you have feelings for him too.

He all but throws his phone across his table after turning on Do Not Disturb. He’ll need to muster up the courage before reading your answer, and having his phone buzz for anything that wasn’t your reply would just be torturous. He felt stupid, would feel even more so if you turned down his invitation. He almost doesn’t want you to answer, wants to pretend he never even sent anything.

Because it was stupid.

But love is stupid, and he is in love.

Worst-case scenario, he’s stuck with Chan in Japan for a weekend while he laughs at him.

Best-case scenario, he spends a weekend with you in Japan. No letting you go back to another man at the end of the day, no more hiding that he is taking you out on dates, no more distractions, no more inconveniences of your daily lives.

Minho opens the code he was working on again, quickly typing out:

// NOTE: Minho will fix this.

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feelbokkie · 10 months

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Texting Bff!Skz about Fan Fics

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: crack

pov: 1st/2nd person (depends on how you view it)

description: In which bff!skz finds out you read skz fics

pairing: bff!skz x reader

warnings: swearing, mention of kinks/smut (but none are actually depicted)

word count: n/a

screenshot count: 8

방 찬 (Bang Chan) & 이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho)

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin) & 황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin)

한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung) & 이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok)

김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min) & 양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In)

—

Buy me a coffee?

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Permanent Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you

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hanasnx · 4 months

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⿻ requests page

MINORS DNI 18+ ༄

disclaimers ¡! ❞

! ── check my rules before requesting, and read these disclaimers. anything in violation will get deleted and/or blocked ! ── double check you have your age in bio/pinned. ! ── there is no guarantee that i will have the inspo to write anything i'm messaged about. i don't like being asked about whether or not i saw your message or am going to respond to it ! ── i could respond anywhere from a couple sentences to a full one shot, whatever inspires me. you cannot request a length. ! ── saying "part 2 of ___" or "more of ___" or "can you do ___?" does not count. must include a plot, thirst, thought, dialogue, etc. with specified character ! ── smut is heavily favored as i am a smut blog. also i love questions of any genre, and i don’t like long asks. ! ── bold is current favorites in which i respond to the quickest

── characters ┆ EVERY CHARACTER I'VE EVER WRITTEN ON THIS BLOG (DOES NOT INCLUDE GIFTS).

star wars ¡! ❞

✩ anakin skywalker ✩ darth vader ✩ han solo

christensen-verse ¡! ❞

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dc comics ¡! ❞

✩ bruce wayne ✩ dick grayson ✩ terry mcginnis ✩ jason todd ✩ talon ✩ dr. manhattan ✩ wally west ✩ nanaue ✩ j’onn j’onzz

marvel ¡! ❞

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✩ black noir ✩ soldier boy ✩ jordan li

outer banks ¡! ❞

✩ jj maybank ✩ rafe cameron ✩ drew starkey

wizarding world ¡! ❞

✩ fred weasley ✩ remus lupin

atla-verse ¡! ❞

✩ jet ✩ zuko

jujutsu kaisen ¡! ❞

✩ toji fushiguro ✩ satoru gojo

misc. ¡! ❞

✩ indiana jones ✩ brian o'conner ✩ the great protector ✩ jake peralta ✩ abed nadir ✩ patrick bateman ✩ mordecai ✩ hak ✩ kevin levin ✩ riftan calypse ✩ hanasnx

── additional ┆ CHARACTERS I'D LIKE TO WRITE FOR.

✩ cad bane ✩ general grievous ✩ barry allen ✩ conner kent ✩ tony stark ✩ venom ✩ luke riordan ✩ simon “ghost” riley ✩ garnet ✩ korra ✩ mako ✩ sirius black ✩ jace herondale ✩ sinbad ✩ tomoe ✩ kurama shinjirou ✩ sesshomaru ✩ sidon ✩ hwang jun-ho ✩ marshall lee ✩ bill cipher ✩ naruse shou ✩ andy biersack ✩ dan lynch ✩ elton tiscia ✩ nicholas devereaux ✩ eric knox ✩ mike ross ✩ gregory eddie ✩ sam sweeney

── gifts ┆ CHARACTERS I'VE WRITTEN GIFTS FOR AND DO NOT WANT MESSAGES ABOUT.

✩ luke skywalker ✩ carmy berzatto ✩ bakugou katsuki ✩ druig

NAVI | M.LIST | RULES | LINKS | ABOUT

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fukurofanfics · 11 months

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Fukuro Part 4: Shelter

A/N: We’re getting closer to the smut content, I swear. Stick with me. This chapter paves a path for the next, building the new elements of the plot for chapter 5. Enjoy!

(Also, I’m writing according to what I think the characters would be like in person, not what they actually are, so they might not always be in character. Some character traits are made up by me throughout, Jiwon’s affinity with computers.)

-ちはる

Warning: This series contains graphic depictions of violence and gore, graphic sexual content, and adult language throughout, and is not recommended for persons under sixteen years old. Reader discretion advised.

Chapter 4: Shelter

The morning sunlight poured through the curtains, giving my room a cozy, warm sort of lighting. After the first night of decent sleep I’d had for a while, I was fully ready to roll.

I let myself sleep in late, since I didn’t need to wake up early. The forest where the shelter was couldn’t be reached by car or any other motor vehicle because it was dense, uneven, and rocky, so we would be going by helicopter. It sounds a little bit over the top, but it was the only plausible way to reach the base. It was a forty-mile walk from here.

At last pulling myself from sleep, I sat up and rubbed my eyes. It was a fine day outside, too bad we weren’t going to be enjoying it.

I got out of bed and walked to the voluminous closet. I put on a white tank top, jogging pants, and a pair of socks. It pained me to leave behind such good clothes, but it was an easy trade for Everglow. I headed out into the kitchen to find Hwang-ja flipping pancakes on the skillet. Two of the six members were already up and clutching mugs of coffee, Yiren and Yurim.

“Morning, Kaito,” said Hwang-ja, making one of the pancakes do a triple backflip onto a plate.

“Morning.”

Another two pancakes performed their plate-bound acrobatics, shortly followed by their last fellow. Hwang-ja measured five more batter circles onto the skillet.

“Any reason you’re up so early?” I asked.

“The earlier we leave, the better.” Hwang-ja replied. “Not taking any chances.”

I left him to his pancakes and went to take stock of what I had packed for the last time.

Clothes, skincare stuff, toothbrush and toothpaste, weapons, devices, XL survival kit (just in case), batteries, medicinal paraphernalia (melatonin, Tylenol, ibuprofen, et cetera), and other valued possessions that I didn’t care to lose.

By the time I had checked for the final time and come back out, the rest of the members were awake and eating Hwang-ja’s pancakes. He had left a few for me, which I put onto a plate and took to the table.

“So,” said Sihyeon. “This is it. The final day of life in the normal world.”

“It won’t be so bad, you know.” I said, spearing a bit of pancake with my fork. “I’ve been in there a few times since it was finished, it’s pretty nice.”

“I know. But it won’t be the same.”

I felt a rush of sympathy.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll all move on, eventually. And when the time comes, we can leave. See, the Fukuri can’t last forever. There comes a time when they’ll starve to death. And when that happens, there’ll be survivors, all over the place.”

Sihyeon looked down and nodded.

After finishing breakfast, I called the helicopter.

All of us sat in the living room on the leather couches, tension palpable in the air. Then, minutes later, we heard the faint sound of helicopter blades spinning and whirring.

We headed out to the courtyard where the helicopter would land. As it approached, I flagged the pilot down and he landed smoothly on the concrete pad in front of us.

“Alright, Jeong-ho?” I yelled over the dying sound of the chopper.

“Doing fine, Kaito!” He shouted back. “But - by god - these girls must be - how?”

“No time,” I said. “Girls, get in.”

They clambered inside, closely followed by me and Hwang-ja.

I cast one last look at the house I might never see again, and then pushed it to the back of my mind.

“To the shelter, Jeong-ho.”

“You got it, boss.”

We took off and quickly gathered altitude. It pained me to leave the house and all its sentimental value behind, but it had to be done. We began flying southwest, towards the forest.

It was only about twenty minutes between us and the bunker. They seemed to pass unnaturally fast, and before I knew it, the outline of an enormous cube came into view.

“Nearly there, boss,” said Jeong-ho over the intercom.

When we arrived, Jeong-ho dropped a ladder down to the door, having lowered the helicopter enough to reach the ground with the rope.

“Bye, Jeong-ho. I’ll see you around, maybe.” I said.

Hwang-ja climbed down first, closely followed by me, then Yiren, and so on. When all of us were on the ground, the ladder was raised back up again and the helicopter flew off again. I watched it go with a trace of regret, knowing that I would probably never see it again.

I pressed the button on the speaker/microphone and said,

“Kaito Kobayashi, twenty-five years old, born on October 5th, 1997, parents died on July 20th, 2012, requesting clearance for entry. Password is 123782122.”

“Good morning, sir, clearance granted. Please stand back.”

With a loud beep, the metal door swung open. Three of the servants (don’t take that the wrong way) hurried forwards and took our luggage.

“Welcome to my bunker,” I said, “and I believe a tour is in order.”

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urperfectcinnamonroll07 · 3 months

Text

Do's and Don'ts

Hello everyone! I'm not really that new to Tumblr, so I do know how this whole thing works. I just kinda deleted my old acc, and made this one for a fresh start so yeah:)

Do's

Fluff

Angst

Smut

Platonic

Girl x girl

Boy x boy

Gender nuetral reader/non binary reader

Platonic age gaps

PLATONIC family pieces (like, brother x sister, sister x sister, platonic stuff yk)

Don'ts

Rape

Huge age gaps (from four years apart and up)

Incest

Yandre/Tsundre

Character x animal/furry kinda thing

Kidnapping (unless it is part of a story and the kidnapper is platonic e.g. the grabber x platonic!reader etc)

A scenario in which the reader dies

Spirit x Reader (like a ghost kind of spirit, because that's js weird)

Specific AU's (e.g. Mafia!Seungcheol x reader. I'm general I js think it's a no)

People who I write for:

Seventeen

All members

Alice In Borderland

Shuntaro Chishiya

Yuzuha Usagi

Ryohei Arisu

Kuina

Ann

Suguru Niragi

Ginji Kyuma

Daikichi Karube

Mira

Aguni

Akane Heiya

Kotoko Shiga

Sunato Banda

Kōdai Tatta

Oki Yaba

All Of Us Are Dead

Lee Su-hyeok

Choi Nam-ra

Lee Cheong-san

Nam On-jo

Yoon Gwi-nam

Park Mi-jin

Jang Ha-ri

Jang Woo-jin

Min Eun-ji

Han Gyeong-su

Yang Dae-su

Stray Kids

All members

BTS

All members

Blackpink

All members

Any Kpop groups

Squid Game

Kang Sae-byeok

Seong Gi-hun

Hwang Jun ho

Abdul Ali

Front Man

Cho Sang woo

There might be more added to this, but I will try to make a Masterlist sometime soon. So cya, and have a lovely day. Don't forget to drink water and eat something, love you all!

#seventeen #kpop #fanfictions #alice in borderland #fanfiction #masterlist #what i write

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broken-ghost · 2 years

Text

Inbox is Open for Requests!

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

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

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

Masterlist

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Fandoms/Characters I write for:

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

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

Obey Me!: Lucifer, Diavolo, Mammon, Beelzabub

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

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

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

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

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

#fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction #the lord of the rings fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction #Tolkein FanFiction #obey me fanfiction #better call Saul FanFiction #breaking bad fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #the hollows FanFiction #the hollows reader insert #squid game FanFiction #squid game reader insert

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lavhoes · 2 years

Text

nash. she/they. bisexual. latina !

dating neville would include ; neville longbottom

beautiful thing ; harry potter

pet names they use ; the evans

random headcanons ; colin zabel

stargazing ; hwang jun ho

porn links ; peter parker

porn links ; spencer reid

smut rec list ; stranger things

smut rec list two ; stranger things

nsfw audios ; stranger things

#I don’t write angst or at least extreme angst #hurt/comfort is fine though!

88 notes · View notes

leia-writes · 2 years

Note

Hi! iread These Violent Delights

Have Violent Ends and i loved it sooo much! Can i request a femreader smut with the front man character? i don't have any plot ideas, it's up to you !

of course! I decided to take an enemies to lovers route with this one, I really enjoyed writing it. thank you!!

Kiss With A Fist

hwang in-ho | front man x reader

ao3 link

masterlist

song inspiration: kiss with a fist by florence + the machine

warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY

“Do we really have to do this now?”

You stood in the elevator with In-ho, making your way to one of the several storage rooms on site. It was almost midnight and you just wanted to go to sleep. The next round of games were about to start, and you’d mistakenly misplaced some critical information on some of the players. You suspected a guard moved the files to one of the storage rooms, but with the amount of information the organization kept, finding it might take a while.

In-ho scoffed next to you. “Yes. And you’re lucky I’m going with you to help look for it.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just don’t see why this can’t get done tomorrow. It’s late.”

“If you hadn’t been so careless, we wouldn’t have to do this in the first place.”

“Why does everything have to be on paper anyways? Everything should be digital now. There’s no reason for us to have all this paper.” You knew you made a mistake, but having to go through all of this was too much.

He sighed sharply. “Would you stop complaining?”

Before you could respond, the elevator door opened, and you started searching for the missing files. It was beyond annoying having to search through everything when it could be so much simpler if everything was digital. You spent almost an hour searching before In-ho approached you and pushed the files into your chest, shoving you backwards a bit.

“Here. Now put them where they belong. And don’t fuck up again.”

He walked away, and you stood there angrily. He was so fucking irritating. You knew he probably relished in seeing you make a mistake. You’d worked with him almost a year now, and from the very beginning the two of you never got along. He clearly felt threatened by your presence, having worked alone before you came along. Anytime you contributed, he treated you like a nuisance.

But that never discouraged you. Like In-ho, you’d won a round of the Squid Games yourself, so dealing with him was nothing. You had no problem giving him the same treatment he’d given you. The problem was, you worked together every single day, almost all of your time spent side by side. Being around someone who constantly tried to undermine you was a daily challenge.

You shook off your anger and put the files away before going to bed. You and In-ho had a shared living space, with separate rooms. There was no escaping him, so you tried your best to let it go. Of course, things didn’t always work out that way.

~~~

A few days later, the Squid Games began, and everything seemed to go by without any problems. Even after the players had voted to leave, a good amount decided to come back. It wasn’t until you noticed In-ho acting strange that you realized something was going on.

He’d been acting particularly stressed and distant, constantly running off to go do some unknown task. You knew the games added another level of stress to your job, but his behavior wasn’t normal. Anytime you tried to question him, he’d give you the usual cold shoulder or rude demeanor.

He was away yet again when you heard the guards speaking over the radio. A guard had gone missing? What the hell was he up to? You immediately made your way to the VIP escape area, where In-ho was kneeling next to a guard.

“What the hell is going on?”

He stood and turned around, his fingers bloody, holding a bullet. His mask was on, but you could tell he was annoyed to see you. “It’s being handled.”

“Clearly it isn’t.” You gestured towards the guard, dead on the ground.

He threw the bullet to the side. “Go check the rooms.” He walked past you, leaving before you could say anything else. He always got like that when he made a mistake, not wanting to give you the benefit of seeing him fail.

You made your way to the guard dorms, quickly discovering a guard was missing. Instead of looking for the guard himself, though, In-ho instructed the guards to search for him, leaving the two of you to oversee the next game. The VIPs would arrive soon after, and you’d both have to tend to them immediately.

As you watched the players in the control room, standing next to In-ho, you turned to him. “Why don’t you tell me what the hell is happening?”

“It’s none of your concern,” he said coldly, facing forward.

“A guard was killed. Of course it’s my fucking concern.”

“I told you I’m handling it.”

You scoffed, turning away. “You better hope it gets handled before the VIPs arrive.”

In-ho shifted uncomfortably, his hands tightening into fists. You could tell he had more to say, but kept it in and stayed silent. You smirked under your mask as you continued to observe the game.

Once the game was over, you decided to join the guards searching for the intruder outside, rather than do nothing with In-ho. He seemed to be too caught up in his own thoughts to notice you leave anyways. You walked the shoreline, looking for any sign, when the guards found the body.

They called In-ho on the radio, who quickly showed up afterwards. As In-ho approached the body, you couldn’t help yourself from rubbing it in a bit.

“You seem to be handling it just fine, huh?”

He slowly turned to you, and you could tell he was seething under the mask.

“Watch it.”

You chuckled, and handed him the wallet you found on the body. “Looks like we’re dealing with the police now.”

In-ho observed the ID, and let out a long, deep sigh. Clearly this was troubling for him.

“This is a much bigger issue now, you know that ri-”

“Would you just shut the fuck up for one minute?” In-ho interrupted, tension clear in his voice. He threw the wallet to the ground and turned away, hands on his hips. He was clearly battling with something you knew nothing about. For a moment, your curiosity outweighed your annoyance.

You took a moment to wonder what exactly he was going through, and why he was so upset. Normally he didn’t let your words get under his skin so much, so why was he so reactive to them now?

Before you could think further, you were both pinged on your radios. The VIPs arrived, and you both would have to tend to them for a while. In-ho directed the guards to burn the body and the two of you met with the VIPs.

You greeted the VIPs and prepared for the next game. During the glass bridge game, you stood with In-ho at the control desk, but your mind was anywhere but the game. In-ho seemed distracted as well, constantly checking his radio to make sure it was working. It was incredibly boring, and knowing the intruder was still out there, with the VIPs around, made you on edge.

“I’m going to go search with them. There’s no reason I need to be here too.”

“No. You’re staying.”

You rolled your eyes, under the mask, and ignored him. “I’ll let you know what we find.”

You turned to walk away, but In-ho roughly grabbed your arm. You looked at his hand indignantly before looking at him.

“Let go of me.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

You could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle darkly under his mask.

“I’m not telling you. I’m making you.” He pulled you back in front of the controls, closer to him, his grip on your arm becoming impossibly tight. The sudden proximity made you uncomfortable, an unexplainable feeling starting to form inside you.

He leaned towards you, whispering. “Don’t fucking move.”

He shoved you, letting go of your arm. You could feel some of the VIPs watching you, and you knew better than to make a scene now. In-ho promptly walked away, forcing you to be the one to stay and oversee the game. The lingering pain from his grip on your arm just added to your frustration.

How dare he think he can treat you like that? The more you thought about it, the more upset it made you. He had no right to put his hands on you like that. You cursed yourself for wavering when he pulled you close to him. The strange feeling from before started to come back, but you quickly pushed it away.

Once the game was over, you returned to your shared living space. Whatever In-ho had to deal with, you decided he would deal with it alone. If he wanted you out of the way, that was fine. It wasn’t your responsibility anyways. With how chaotic everything had been, you deserved a break.

After a while, you heard In-ho exit the elevator. You expected him to give you an update, but he went straight to the bathroom. A few minutes passed and you heard him groaning, before hearing the sound of metal falling to the ground. What the hell?

You walked to the bathroom door, softly knocking. “Where’s the intruder?”

You heard In-ho sigh out of frustration. “Taken care of.”

“Is he dead?”

“Yes.”

“Where’s the body?”

In-ho yelled out of frustration, and unbeknownst to you, pain. “I fucking took care of it, he’s at the bottom of the ocean now, are you happy?”

You paused for a moment. “Why didn’t you incinerate the body? That’s protocol.”

In-ho suddenly opened the door, anger written all over his face. You quickly noticed the wound he was holding a towel to.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Why do you have to be so fucking nosy? I told you it was taken care of.” He grimaced in pain and went to shut the door, but you blocked it.

“What happened?”

In-ho sighed, clearly worn down. He walked back to the sink and threw the towel down before preparing to stitch his wound. You noticed a bullet in the sink.

“He shot me. I shot him back. It’s over now.”

Something felt off to you. There was no way In-ho would let the intruder shoot him before killing him himself.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you take care of the body?”

In-ho shut his eyes in frustration for a moment, but continued to focus on stitching his wound. “I told you, he’s dead in the ocean now.”

“But his body could show up somewhere.”

He huffed in pain, ignoring you.

You stayed silent for a moment, deciding not to bother him while he was stitching himself. As you stewed in your thoughts, it all seemed more and more strange to you. When he was finished, he turned to you, annoyed.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know why you left the body.”

He turned away, cleaning himself up and ignoring you again.

You rolled your eyes. “Are you sure he’s even dead?”

He looked down, letting out a deep breath, and in the mirror you could see rage on his face. His fists were clenched, his body shaking. He stayed silent again.

“Why won’t you tell me what the fuck is going on?!”

In an instant, In-ho punched forward on the mirror, shattering it to pieces, screaming. The sudden sound made you jump back. He turned to you, his hand bloody.

He looked you right in the eyes, shaking in fierce anger. “I don’t have to tell you shit.”

You stared at him for a few moments, anger brewing inside of you as well. He acted violent, but you weren’t scared. “Then don’t endanger all of us with your careless behavior.”

“Careless?” he said, his voice shaking. He turned away and leaned forward on the counter, grimacing. He took in a shaky breath, and let out a sob through gritted teeth.

He started to cry. He was crying.

That caught you off guard. You’d never seen anything close to this kind of emotion coming from him. For a moment, your anger subsided, and you felt… concern.

Why did you even care? You despised this man. But… the way he was breaking down in front of you, it was so bizarre. You knew something significant had to have happened.

“In-ho, just… just tell me what happened.”

He looked at you again, and you could tell inside he was truly falling apart. He looked deranged. “What happened? I’ll tell you what happened… That intruder, he…” he paused, his face contorting in pain, “he… he was my brother.”

His… brother? You stood there in shock, not sure how to react. You were mortified.

In-ho laughed wildly, his emotions out of control. “And you want to know why I didn’t burn his body? I already shot him, isn’t that enough?”

He stepped closer to you as you stayed speechless.

“Isn’t it enough that I had to shoot him? Isn’t that all we’re good for now? Shooting and killing people?”

You were absolutely stunned. You never expected this, and you weren’t sure what to do. You wished you had never asked anything at all.

“In-ho, I’m… I’m sor-”

He cut you off by grabbing your throat with his hand, pushing you on the wall behind you. His fingers, bloody from punching the mirror, gripped your throat harshly.

“Maybe I should start with you, huh? Then you would finally shut the fuck up.”

Your mouth was wide open, desperate to breathe, as he choked you. His face was inches from yours, and the sight of you struggling against him just encouraged him further. He dug his fingers into your skin, tightening his grip on your throat.

You brought your hands to his arm to try and pry him off of you to no avail. You kicked his legs, tried everything you could, but his strength was too much. His anger was too much. No matter what you did, he wouldn’t let go of you.

Tears started to fall from your eyes and you were pleading for relief. You had never been scared of him like you were in that moment. You knew he was temperamental, you knew he had issues, but you never expected him to take it out on you like that. In that moment, what truly scared you was the possibility he would kill you right then and there.

You started seeing spots in your vision, and your strength was faltering. Your harsh punches were turning into soft shoves. You felt yourself slowly starting to pass out. At what felt like the very last moment, In-ho grimaced, and threw you to the ground. You gasped for air, coughing and holding your throat gently.

“Get the fuck out of my sight.”

He went back to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. You stayed on the ground for a moment, trying to compose yourself. He really almost killed you then. You were beyond upset, you were disturbed. What kind of fucked up place had you found yourself in? You found yourself questioning every decision you made that led up to this moment, regretting the day you decided to work with In-ho.

But it didn’t matter. None of that meant anything when it was In-ho who took his problems out on you. You at least had some solace there, knowing it wasn’t your fault, but it made you even angrier. It wasn’t your fault his brother found his way here. It wasn’t your fault he had to kill his own brother.

But, somewhere deep inside your mind, you honestly felt bad for him. If you had done the same, you knew you’d go mad just like he did. Why did he just have to deal with things so poorly?

You groaned in frustration. “Fuck!”

You quickly stood up and went to your room, getting ready to sleep. Your mind was whirling with thoughts, and as time went on nothing was making sense to you. Hopefully, after a night’s sleep and once the games are over, you’ll have a moment to think clearly.

~~~

The next evening, you were riding in the limo with In-ho, sitting next to him. The two of you had managed to set aside your emotions enough to not fight in front of anyone, but they were brewing inside you intensely. After you dropped off the winner, you made your way to the island, dreading the long drive back.

You took off your mask and threw it to the side, leaning forward to pour yourself more champagne. In-ho, his mask off, eyed you with disdain. You could tell from the corner of your eye. You rolled your eyes and drank the glass in one sitting. He had no right to act this way towards you. There was nothing wrong with questioning him.

He scoffed, drinking as well.

You eyed him. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I can see it on your face.”

“So you can’t control yourself if someone merely looks at you?”

You looked at him, offended. “Don’t talk to me about control. I merely rolled my eyes and you’re upset.”

“I’m just sick of working with a brat like you.”

You laughed. “What exactly did I do that was so wrong? You would’ve questioned me just the same last night, if not worse.”

In-ho stayed silent, jaw clenched, looking away.

“I didn’t know it was your brother,” you said softly.

That really set him off. He drank the rest of the champagne in his glass and forcefully threw it forward, the glass shattering at the front of the limo. You turned to him, initially shocked but not surprised. Before you could react, he grabbed your throat again. Though he wasn’t as forceful as before, the bruises made it painful still.

“Don’t make me finish what I started last night.”

Anger was stewing inside of you, but you laughed. “We both know you won’t.”

He glared and gripped your throat harder, though still not like before. You swiftly slapped him square in the cheek, redness appearing almost instantly.

“Stop acting like you can control me,” you sneered.

He pushed you to the back of your seat, practically hovering over you at this point, his face dangerously close to yours. He raised his hand, as if he was going to slap you, but lowered it.

“What, too scared to hit me?” You knew you were provoking him, but it was too good to pass up.

He raised his hand again, but instead of hitting you, he covered your mouth.

“Just. shut. up. For once.”

You brought your arm to his, trying to force his hand off your mouth, but he just leaned into you harder. You glared at him since you were unable to speak. Both of you were staring into each other’s eyes so intensely, you felt like you could feel everything he felt in that moment. All of the anger, pain, frustration, and the tension between you two. It was all becoming so palpable.

You scanned his face, noticing all the little features you never noticed before. You felt that same unfamiliar feeling start to overwhelm you, just like when he pulled you close to him in front of the VIPs. It frustrated you to no end. You felt helpless.

After a few moments, In-ho slowly lowered his hand, his eyes fixating on your lips. You squirmed under his gaze, feeling frustrated and… desperate, but you weren’t sure for what.

Suddenly, In-ho leaned forward, and kissed you.

His kiss was just as strong as his hands, his lips crushing yours with intense force. For a moment, you were unable to think or move. Was he really doing this? Was this really happening?

The desperate feeling from before just blossomed into something much more, something like… desire.

Did you really want him? Like this?

He leaned back, lips separating from yours. You almost whined at the loss of contact. What the fuck was wrong with you? You looked at him, shock and confusion on your face.

In-ho smirked. “That seems to shut you up.”

That sent you over the edge. You grabbed his face and pushed him back in his seat, kissing him fiercely again. You wouldn’t let him take control that easily.

You sat on his lap and started grinding on him, making any attempt to take down his defenses. He groaned into your mouth as you kissed over and over, both of you trying to be more forceful than the other. You brought both your hands to his throat, digging your fingers into his skin as you continued to kiss him. You wanted him to feel exactly what he did to you. That feeling of power fed the fire of your desire even more.

He grabbed your sides and pushed you on your back onto the seat, hovering over you. The force of falling down caused you to yelp and remove your hands from him. In-ho took the opportunity and grabbed both of your arms, pinning them above your head.

You wanted to feel frustrated, but he started to kiss and bite your neck, and you couldn’t help yourself from moaning. Fuck. You felt embarrassed but just couldn’t be bothered to care too much. You struggled under his hold, and he chuckled into your neck.

“Who knew you’d be so desperate for me?”

You blushed, flustered knowing he was relishing in having this power over you. He let your hands go to unzip your coat, immediately grasping one of your breasts, returning his mouth to your neck. You moaned before pushing him off of you, onto the floor next to you. You turned over and straddled him again, smirking.

“Don’t act like you weren’t the one to kiss me first.”

You shrugged off your coat before unzipping his. In-ho leaned forward to take it off and pull you in for another rough kiss. You grinded down on him again, feeling his erection under his pants, moaning into his mouth. You pulled his shirt off and his hands went to your sides to pull yours off.

At this point, you didn’t care how you got it, you just needed him. You needed to take everything from him just like he wanted with you. You could feel yourself getting wetter as you continued grinding on him. His hands went to your hips to push you down harder, guiding your movements. He just had to have control, didn’t he?

You grasped his jaw, pushing him away from you harshly.

“Fuck me. Now.”

He huffed and lifted you back on the seat, unzipping his pants. You unzipped yours and pulled them off along with your underwear, taking your bra off and leaving yourself bare in front of him. Suddenly, you felt vulnerable in front of him, which annoyed you.

As he took off his pants, you watched his cock spring out, your desperation growing even more. You shoved him back onto the seat, going to straddle him before he shoved you back.

“I don’t think so.”

He turned you around, your knees resting on the edge of the seat as he lined his hips with yours behind you. He held your neck from behind, hovering over you and shoving your face onto the top of the seat cushions. He lined his cock with your entrance, immediately feeling how wet you were. You groaned, wiggling your hips, desperate for any sort of control you could get.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, did I do this to you?”

You groaned out of frustration, knowing he was just trying to get a reaction out of you.

“Just hurry up.”

He leaned forward, slowly pushing his cock into you. You let out a long moan together as he completely filled you, staying still for a brief moment before he started pounding into you relentlessly.

The sudden pleasure made your mind go blank. All you could focus on was the feeling of him fucking you and how fucking good it felt. You moaned nonstop now, not even caring what you sounded like. You didn’t care if it meant he thought he had complete control over you now. All that mattered was you were getting what you wanted and he was giving it to you.

You could tell In-ho was losing himself as well, groaning and grunting as he thrust into you roughly. He grabbed your ass with one hand and smacked it, causing you to yelp. The sudden sting just added to your pleasure. You clenched around his cock and he leaned forward, groaning into your neck.

The more he fucked you, the more you could feel all of your defenses coming down. You couldn’t even remember why you were so upset with him before. All of the anger you’d felt had completely dissipated into desire. As you thought about it more, you realized… maybe you never hated him to begin with.

Yes, he was annoying, and stubborn, and irritating, but he was also the one person who could understand you the best. The one person you knew who had been through the same thing as you. You fought every day, but at least that meant you cared. It meant you longed for something better. If you didn’t care at all, he wouldn’t get under your skin so easily.

You did care. A lot. And you longed for so much more… you longed for him.

In-ho could sense the shift in your demeanor and slowed down, gently holding on to your shoulders. You turned around and looked him in the eyes, your features soft now instead of the fierce looks you’d given before. You were almost… pleading for him. He could tell you weren’t angry anymore. In an instant, you felt the most vulnerable you ever had.

His face softened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking at that moment. He reached forward to gently cup your face, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. You looked at his lips briefly, silently begging for them.

He stilled inside of you and leaned forward to kiss you gently. You moaned softly and brought a hand to his face. You knew at that moment you wanted him, just him. No ulterior motives, no fights for dominance, no revenge to be had anymore. You broke from the kiss, feeling overwhelmed at your shift in energy. He looked at you concerned, holding you as if you’d break in his hands. He was being so gentle, so caring, it made your heart swell, and you started to cry.

He immediately grabbed your shoulders and brought you close to him, sitting down in the seat and bringing you to his lap. You faced him and sank down on his cock, moaning and continuing to cry. It was all so overwhelming, the rush of emotion with the pleasure you were feeling. In-ho held your face, wiping your tears as they fell.

“What’s wrong?” He looked at you with such concern it made you cry even more. You couldn’t even get any words out, you just continued to ride him and pulled him close, resting your head near his neck.

He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on yours, confused but overwhelmed just as much as you were. The moment you laid bare before him, he felt a shift in his emotions as well. Maybe all the conflict the two of you had was meant to lead to this moment, maybe all the frustration he felt about you was really a deep longing.

After losing his brother, he was sure he had no one left. When he saw your face drop when he told you he killed him, he’d never admit it but it broke his heart even more. Not because you were afraid of him, not because you despised him. But because he could tell you cared. It was so much easier to push you away, to get upset at you, rather than face his feelings and be vulnerable. He’d already lost so much.

He brought your face to his and kissed you deeply. You kept crying and it destroyed him inside. “I’m sorry,” his voice breaking, “I’m sorry.”

You paused, taken aback. “No, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay. Stop crying, darling. It’s okay.”

That made you cry even more. Fuck, you were so far gone now. You couldn’t imagine how you spent all this time together without realizing how much you actually cared for him.

He rested your forehead on his. “Just focus on me. You’re okay. You’re doing so well.”

Your heart fluttered wildly at his words, and you couldn’t believe that just a while ago you were at each other’s throats. His hands rested on your hips as you rode him, your emotions starting to calm down. You felt pleasure rise again in your core.

In-ho kissed your neck. “Yes, that’s it. Just like that. So fucking good.”

You whined against him, his praises encouraging you further. You started riding him faster and he groaned beneath you. He shifted his hips and began to thrust upwards into you.

You moaned and met his thrusts, the force of his pounding setting your body on fire. You kissed him roughly.

“You feel so good inside me.”

He kissed you again, encouraged by your words as well, thrusting into you harder. You wanted to show him how good you felt. You wanted to express your desire for him physically just like you had done so to express your anger and frustration earlier.

You felt tension starting to form in your core, begging for release. “You’re gonna make me cum fucking me like this,” you whispered into his ear.

You clenched on his cock and he groaned loudly beneath you. He grabbed your hair and pulled you in for a kiss roughly before turning you over on your back, your hips on the edge of the seat. He thrust into you again and looked at your body up and down.

“You’re gonna make me cum looking like this.”

You mewled beneath him and pulled him close, wanting as much of him as you could get. He kissed your neck where he had left marks before. The new angle of his thrusts sent waves of pleasure over your body, and you knew you were close.

“In-ho.” You pulled his face in front of yours. “I need you.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he moaned, almost whimpering. It almost looked like he was about to cry, and your heart broke for him… is this how he felt for you when you cried?

You held his face gently. “I need you. I need you so fucking much. I’ve always needed you.”

He cried out, and you could tell he was close too. He rested his head on your shoulder, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

“No. I need you.”

The intensity of his words almost sent you over the edge. You held him close, grabbing his shoulders desperately.

“In-ho, please… please cum inside me.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore, and came intensely as he fucked you. You cried out, holding on to him as you let the pleasure fully take over, your body shuddering beneath him. In-ho groaned loudly and came, releasing loads of his cum inside of you. The feeling of being filled by him just added to your pleasure. He slowly thrust into you, both of you riding out your high as long as possible.

He pulled out of you and he looked down, noticing his cum leak out of you. You whined at the empty feeling. As you calmed down, you worried what this might mean for you. What if In-ho was just caught up in the moment? Did he really want you like this?

He sat down next to you, catching his breath. For a moment, you felt awkward. You were just sitting there, naked and silent. Before you could think further, he pulled you close to him again, sitting in his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and guided your head to his shoulders.

After a few moments, he whispered, “Are you okay?”

You sighed, relieved, and nodded into his neck. The fact he was considering you in this moment reassured you he still wanted you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Stop saying that. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

You sighed, pouting.

He softly chuckled. “Who knew you could be so nice?”

You scoffed playfully. “I could say the same for you.”

You looked up and noticed him smiling, realizing you’d never seen him smile before. Your heart swelled at the sight. How could the two of you have gone this long without realizing how much you actually cared for each other?

What about all the horrible things you did to each other?

As if he was reading your mind, he held you tighter, and whispered, “I’m sorry for everything.”

You sighed. “Me too.”

“Do you need anything?” he asked, as he gently rubbed your hair. He loved taking in all the little things about you, all the things he missed out on all this time.

“No. Just you.”

“Good. You have me.”

#front man x reader #hwang inho x reader #front man #hwang inho #reader insert #squid game fanfic #squid game #fanfiction #frontman x reader #our blues #oneshot #request

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mugunghwarp · 1 year

Photo

Idade: 26 anos.

Gênero: Masculino cis.

Qualidades: Protetor, carismático.

Defeitos: Evasivo, cafajeste.

Nacionalidade/Etnia: Sul coreano/coreano.

Estudante Univ.: Administração.

Temas de interesse: Hostility, romance, smut, violcente.

Faceclaim: Gemini - solista.

Twitter: MV97HJ.

OOC: +18 ela/dela.

TW: Nenhum.

TW: Problemas parentais.

O mínimo que se espera de um filho, quando bem criado, é que esse grande esforço depositado se dê em frutos majestosos os quais genitores orgulhosos esbanjam ao demonstrar sua conquista à sociedade. "Olha como foi bem adestrado, bom garoto", eles dizem. Mas de que adianta viver sob o manto de uma família perfeita quando a única recompensa percebida pela pobre prole se resume em um "você não faz nada além da sua obrigação".

Dizem que quando você cresce sem atenção do pai acaba se tornando um dependente emocional. Quando cresce sem o amor da mãe, se torna psicologicamente instável. Mas quando cresce sem os dois, você se torna algo como Ji-Ho, vazio.

Durante o período de faculdade, gostava de "brincar" com os colegas quando lhe perguntavam sobre seus pais, este sempre respondia "estão mortos, morreram faz tempo" e de certa forma não há mentira nisso. Não se pode considerar vivo alguém que só pode ser visto pela casa através de uma silhueta informe que apenas murmura "agora não filho, estou sem tempo".

Não que Ji-Ho seja um filho ingrato, não é esse o ponto, seus pais nunca lhe deixaram faltar comida, roupas e o brinquedo ou eletrônico que quisesse; como também nunca foi ausente no seu papel de filho modelo. Mas é que o sobrenome Hwang sempre foi um fardo. Talvez essa tenha sido a desculpa que sua mente criou para desviar-se de todos os problemas e cair na tentação mundana.

Ainda assim era grato por algo, ser o filho mais novo. A empresa de seu pai nunca foi seu interesse e sequer algo pelo qual lutaria até a morte e, por isso, quando seu irmão assumiu o posto de vice-diretor pediu aos pais a transferência da faculdade para um lugar o qual não precisasse viver sob os completos privilégios da família.

Em Mugunghwa poderia realizar-se através da música, sabia que arte era o seu destino, uma vez que apenas ela pode segurar suas mãos em momentos onde a escuridão se tornava aconchegante.

#aceitos #hwang jiho #gemini #kadupul #rebellious rose

0 notes

imaginesbymk · 1 year

Note

Hi, you could do a headcanon of Hwang Jun-Ho from squid game fem reader, something fluff and if you feel comfortable add implied smut

pls provide a scenario for your headcanon

#mk talks

0 notes

tawneybel · 10 months

Text

2023 Reader Insert Smut Masterlist

Note: And lists. Request rules. I've decided it's easier to just keep a master master list pinned and update it regularly, instead of a new one each month.

Rita Repulsa from Mighty Morphin Power Rangers

Mary Shaw and Ella Ashen from Dead Silence

Jackson Whittemore from Teen Wolf

Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers, and Tommy Hagan from Stranger Things

Vecna from Stranger Things 4

10 Favorite Monsters, Part XIV

Chad Meeks-Martin and Frankie from Scream VI

10 Favorite Monsters, Part VIII

Hwang Jun-ho and VIP 4 from Squid Game

Billy Hitchcock from Final Destination

pink soldiers from Squid Game

Imhotep from The Mummy Returns

Coach Willis from The Faculty

Glenn Rhee from The Walking Dead

Count Dracula from Dracula

Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton from Outer Banks

10 Hottest Animated Characters, Part XIII

Chubby, Bibbo, Slim, and Rudy from Killer Klowns from Outer Space

Monstar Blanko from Space Jam

Lalo Salamanca and Nacho Varga from Better Call Saul

Driller Killer from Slumber Party Massacre II

HAL 9000, David Bowman, and Frank Poole from 2001: A Space Odyssey

Gurdy the Clown from 100 Tears

Namor from Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

Matt Addison from Resident Evil

Sadako Yamamura from Ringu (crossover with Saw franchise)

Namor from Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

10 Hottest Animated Character, Part XII

Erik Killmonger, Namor, and M’Baku from Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

Rafe Cameron and Barry from Outer Banks

Tyler Galpin from Wednesday

Harry Warden from My Bloody Valentine

Top 10 Hottest Characters, Part XIV

Harry Warden from My Bloody Valentine 3D

Ryan Torres from Fear Street Part One: 1994

2022 Movie Ranking

Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington from Stranger Things 4

Proteus IV from Demon Seed

10 Favorite Monsters, Part VII

Michael Myers and Corey Cunningham from Halloween Ends

Angel Torres from Nope

Brian from Brain Damage

Top 10 Hottest Characters, Part XVIII

Izzy Bohen, Jake Spencer, Dante Belasco, and Creeper from Jeepers Creepers 2

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ryusukeswife · 2 years

Text

𑁍 — fluff 𖤐 — agnst 𖦹 — smut 𖥻 — smau

file name | hwang in-ho

nothing yet. try again?

#juno!#masterlists!#squid game

0 notes

frontmansbitch · 3 years

Note

Do u write smut cause if you do i have an request can you please write this so yk when the frontman in ep 1 hes chilling and just drinking whiskey so imagine if the reader is riding his cock while he degrades reader

Red Light, Green Light (Front Man x Reader)

♡ Synopsis || Reader got a special invite to watch the ‘Red Light, Green Light’ game with the Front Man alone, until things take a more alluring turn..

♡ Content warnings || Superior + subordinate relationship (consensual), bulging, kissing, grinding, riding, over-stimulation, dom + sub, some degrading and humiliation, slight mentions of death and violence

♡ Author’s note || ajdkajjweofj sorry for the late answer, I am really bad at writing and idk how this stuff works. The same applies to all my other requests, but please keep them coming ;( I was intending this to be some hardcore porn, but it turned out a bit too soft and fluffy oops. Hope I didn’t write him too OOC. Regardless of my incapability to write, I still wish to fulfil and meet your expectations, so hope you enjoy!

+ The Reader does not have a specified gender or sex in this! They can be whatever you want them to be. And the position of the Reader in relation to the Front Man is not specified either, he is just a superior to them. They can be whatever you want them to be, a pink soldier, a normal person, you name it!

The difference on this floor was noticeable. No one else was here, which makes sense as this was the leader’s floor. The Front Man specifically asked only you to be here to watch the first game with him. It was a strange request, but you didn’t have a say in this. After navigating your way around the hallway, you find the room. The TV was turned on and he was already waiting for you inside, occupying the only chair in sight.

“You’re late,” he called out. “The game is about to begin. Take a seat.” You use this opportunity to look around. It was quite a sophisticated room, you expected no less. You watch him pour whiskey into the two empty glasses beside him. It was then when you realised you could see the back of his head rather than his hoodie. Does he have his mask off? Is he trusting you to see his face?

Without making eye contact, resisting the temptation to look at his face, you take a seat on the ground. “You can take your mask off, nobody else is expected to be here,” he said.

“Thank you, sir.” Guess your loyalty paid out. Even though hiding your identity here was reasonable, it was hard breathing in this thing. Taking your mask off, you try to sit in a comfortable position without destroying your surroundings. There wasn’t any other chair in this room, and you wouldn’t want to ruin his furniture anyway. The game had begun and one player already got eliminated. The death was quick but brutal, and frankly quite depressing, but you knew what you signed up for. You couldn’t let the games affect you personally.

“Come closer,” the Front Man suddenly said. “You cannot see anything from down there.” Listening to his orders, you walk closer to him, until you can almost see his face.

“Where would you like me to sit, sir?”

“Here,” he responds. You weren’t quite sure what he meant until you realised the empty space in between his thighs. No, he couldn’t mean that, get your head out of the gutter.

“Is there a problem?” he asked. His eyes locked right into yours, and for the first time, you saw his face. He was gorgeous. He was way more than anything you imagined. Without making him wait longer, you take a deep breath and rest in between his legs. So… comfortable. The screaming and gunshots on the TV were getting louder, but you could barely pay attention to what was going on. The Front Man turned on some slow jazz music as the deaths intensified. Fly me to the moon... a classic. You could feel the Front Man’s glaze on you, observing you instead of the TV. You could barely keep yourself tamed with all this, but you knew you had to control yourself in order to not humiliate yourself. It was almost as if he was trying to see you get all riled up. Wait… Fuck.

You felt something poke below your waist. Oh god… Now you were getting restless, this is just what he wanted. Taking a bigger breath, you try to hold yourself together, but was it the right thing to do? Was he testing you, or implying something? What is he even testing? The thoughts scattered in your brain stopped for a brief moment as you felt his arm wrap around your body, pulling you closer.

You turn to look at his face in a way as if you were asking for permission. He grabs your face and pulls you into a kiss. He holds you by your waist and interlocks your fingers in his own as you spread your legs over his thighs, not breaking his face from yours. Heat built up in your face, the passion spreading down from his mouth down into your body, spiking straight into your heart. Your body began to grow impatient and started grinding on this crotch at a rhythmic speed. You are all I long for, all I worship and adore...

His hand slipped under your top and grabbed your chest, trying to tear off everything. “Needy bitch,” he said after huffing into your face. He started taking off his own cloak as you took off your top. Gunshots played in the background periodically, you couldn’t give a shit about those anymore. Sweat built up on your forehead. You couldn’t wait any longer. You grab down onto his dark pants, but he quickly grabs your wrist.

“Red light,” he suddenly said. Oh shit, you forgot about your obedience, but is he really doing this right now? “Show me how useful you are, then you can deserve it.”

“Yes sir,” you reply.

“Green light,” he says. You continue to drag your body on his groin, making sure he felt every bit of it. He looked at you attentively, puffing from the tension. He takes everything off below your midriff, leaving you completely empty naked from your waist down.

“Look at you down there in your fuckhole, all sticky and disgusting. You are going to ruin my clothes,” he says. He pulls down his pants slightly, exposing his massive boner already glazed with precum. He unexpectedly sticks a finger into your entrance, making you moan from the impact. “Red light.” He cuts you off. Now he was the one pumping you up, and you could do nothing but cuff your hands onto your mouth. He slowly positions you and slips in the tip of his dick into you.

You take a big gulp and look at the man holding you up in approval. He slides in his length a little more into you. “Aah-” you cry out, not being able to contain your anticipation.

“Filthy slut,” he muttered. “Already all riled up over nothing.” He pushes you down deeper, making you grab onto his shoulders. Your insides stretched out, making room for him. Slowly, he makes you sink down until you took on his entire length. Yor moans cried out of your throat, tears trying to push out of your eyes. After resting to adjust, you slowly look him in the eyes, allowing him to continue.

Your interiors quivered as he bounced you on him. Right as you could keep up with his pace, you wrap your arms around him, picking up the speed, forgetting to wait your turn.

“So impatient, I expected better from a whore like you,” he said disappointedly. Despite his cold remark, he wrapped his arms warmly around your waist. “Green light,” he finally says, letting you go at your own tempo. Your body raced on him through your burning passion, letting out everything you have kept inside for the past long weeks. The force of each impact shook you, but you pulled all your muscles together and forced yourself to recover with all your energy. You swayed your hips in motion, hearing him grunt at each collision. After a long moment of you recoiling yourself in and out of him, he moves his hands down on your thighs. “Red light,” he says, taking the action now.

He pounded inside of you, thrusting his hips deep inside. You were nothing more than a servant to him. He used you as his own cock sleeve, shoving himself in and out of you. There was nothing you could do to control yourself anymore. “I’m-” you try to warn, but it was too late. You fling your head back from the excitement and let yourself cry out, while still craving more. Your insides started to hurt as his throbbing shaft still kept moving. You wondered how he was still going, but you really did not want him to stop. He continued to penetrate into your passage as he picked up momentum. After a long period of him using your heavy body as a fleshlight, he pushes you down on him as he exclaims, stuffing you with his love. His cum filled you up, as you dropped your body weight down onto him.

Your body is collapsed onto him, resting on his lean body, panting on each other’s necks. He slightly pecks on your scruff, making small marks as he went. After catching his breath, he lifts you up and rests you onto the chair sprawled out.

“You can relax out here as long as you need,” he says as he slowly puts his clothes back on.

“What about you?” you asked at his sudden departure.

“I need to make sure everything is still in place,” he responds. Right, he was the Front Man here after all. He slowly walks over to you and brushes your head off your forehead.

“Promise you won’t take too long?” you say, for once breaking your obedience with curiosity. He kisses your brow.

“I won’t,” he whispers towards you. Putting his mask back on, he walks out of the room, closing the door. After gaining your consciousness back, you sit up and grab your glass of whiskey. You take a large sip as you use the remote to turn the music up, waiting for a long night.

#squid game x you #squidgame #squid game x reader #squid game #front man #hwang in ho #hwang inho #front man x reader #hwang inho x reader #frontman squidgame #frontman #front man smut #frontman x reader #squid game smut #hwang in ho x reader #the front man x reader #the front man #squid game front man #front man squid game

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sang-woos · 3 years

Text

friday evenings - cho sang-woo

word count; 7k cw; smut, sub!sang-woo, oral (m recieving), dirty talk, use of sex toys, choking, begging, ruined orgasms, vague mention of daddy kink, clothed sex. authors note; feedback is appreciated so please please give it! thank you so much! also tagging @xiernia as requested!

“Back again?”

“Can’t stay away from you, can I?” Sang-woo said with a smile as he sat himself down on one of the many bar stools.

“The usual?” you asked, already going to pour him a whiskey just as he liked it. Sang-woo had been visiting the bar that you worked in for the last few months, a weekly trip on a Friday night to calm his nerves after a testing working week. “So, what’s stressed you out so much today that you’ve come back here? This is becoming a little bit of a routine.”

“The usual work. I’d rather not talk about my problems when all I'm trying to do is relax after a stressful shift,” he answered, handing you some money.

You already knew that you could keep the change, he didn’t even need to tell you anymore. The two of you had fallen into a casual friendship, he only ever spoke to you when he was at the bar and it's almost as if he knew what shift patterns you worked. You weren't going to lie - there was nothing better than getting ready on an early Friday evening knowing that you were going to see your favourite customer at some point throughout the night. Sang-woo always tipped well plus he was a delight to look at compared to the rest of the drunken idiots that stayed there drinking cheap lager right until the last minute.

“Want to talk about how pretty my new skirt is?” you asked with a smirk, doing a twirl to show Sang-woo the skirt you had purchased with him in the mind. It was a short black skirt that you had got the day before, dirty thoughts in your mind whilst paying for it at the till with the tips that Sang-woo had given you the previous week. You had spent a solid fifteen minutes admiring yourself in the mirror before your shift and wondered what Sang-woo would say, or do, when he saw you in the outfit. “Do I look like a dirty girl?” you added mischievously.

Sexual flirting had become routine between the two of you. Although the friendship had started off as normal, him giving you advice and you helping him relax with endless amounts of booze, it had soon turned into more. Neither one of you acted upon the feelings though, just odd comments throughout the night and quick glances which told you everything that you needed to know about the handsome gentleman.

“Watch your mouth,” he muttered, a hint of humour there however. He nodded towards the new barmaid who was still being trained up by your boss, she was a nice enough girl but you hadn’t conversed with her enough to know much about her. “Who’s that new barmaid?”

“Don’t ask about her when you are sitting across from me. She’s nice though, that’s all you need to know. Don’t be going and giving my tips to her.”

Sang-woo chuckled and shook his head. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. “Why would I do such a thing?” he asked, looking up at you through his eyelashes as he lit his cigarette in one quick movement.

“Maybe you want to fuck her.”

Sang-woo watched as you turned your back to him and grabbed the bottle of Whiskey, getting ready to pour him the next drink. Luckily, it was quiet for a Friday night so you were able to keep all your attention on him and only him.

“No, I don’t. I have my eyes on someone else.”

“Anyone in particular?”

“Nobody that concerns you,” he answered, saddening you slightly even though you knew what he was saying. This is how it had always been, mysterious comments that had you wondering if you were making all of this up in your head. You were fairly positive that Sang-woo wanted you in whichever way he could have you and you knew for a fact that you wanted him more than you had wanted anybody else in your whole entire life. There was just something about him that you couldn’t quite understand. “What time did you start?”

“Six, I'm on the late shift tonight. Been looking for other jobs like you suggested but no-one wants me, my qualifications just aren’t as good as everybody else's and all my CV shows is bar work so it’s not as if they are going to give me a well-paying job straight away.”

“You need to get some work experience somewhere and maybe go back to school. The place where I work is taking on summer interns if you’re interested in that sort of stuff.”

“You’re only saying that so you can stare at me all day.” You filled Sang-woo’s glass back up to the top and held out your hand, silently asking for the money. Sang-woo smiled with the cigarette dangling from his lips as he handed you another note. “Don’t deny your attraction, Sang-woo.”

“Attraction? You seem so confident,.”

You scoffed and stuffed the rest of the money into your pocket. Sang-woo was stubbing out the cigarette into the ashtray and watching you closely as he waited for your next response. “Your desire is blatantly obvious so don’t try and deny it.”

Before Sang-woo could fire back with another comment, a customer waved you down and shouted over his order. You looked back at Sang-woo and sighed, you really did hate your job most of the time. It sucked when other people came and interrupted your time with Sang-woo - he was entertaining and made your shift go quick and his sexual comments were not slimy and disgusting when they came from him. It was the elders that were the worst for making you feel overly sexualised in your job - the typical joke about the head of a beer something you heard multiple times a shift. With Sang-woo, it was different. He set you alight with his words.

“Are you going to serve him?” Sang-woo asked, slightly amused by your clear annoyance with having to leave him, even if it was only for a mere five minutes.

“Much rather serve you.”

“Sure you would, darling.”

---

“Another whiskey?” you asked.

Serving one customer had turned into serving another ten. It seemed that everyone finished work at the same time and that they all had the same idea. You had spent the last half an hour having to converse with other customers, none of them as exciting as Sang-woo. The whole time, your eyes had flickered back to him and watched as he scrolled through his phone and patiently waited for you to return. He had been nursing the same glass of Whiskey since you had left so he wouldn’t have to give his money to anyone else other than you. You found it rather sweet of him.

“Please,” he said as he side-eyed a group of young men who were being obnoxiously loud. “Think this will be my last one and then I'm going to go home and hit the sack. It’s been a long day and is there anything better than climbing into a big bed after all the stress of the working day?”

“Must be lonely.”

“Can be,” he said as he handed you some more money for the third time this night. “Maybe I need to find someone to keep me company.”

“What about that girl you had your eye on, hmm?” you asked teasingly.

You had decided that you wanted Sang-woo tonight. You were sick of going home on a Friday night and having to use your own fingers to get yourself off whilst thinking of Sang-woo when you could be coming because of him, because of his fingers and because of his cock.

“She’s working tonight, sure she will be too busy to keep me entertained.”

“What job does she do?”

“She’s a barmaid, has the charisma to go further than that though. I’m thinking about encouraging her to join my company as an intern.”

You turned around and smiled widely to yourself, you had gotten further with him in the last five minutes than you had done since he had first entered the pub and you couldn’t help but feel excited at the thought of what was going to happen when your shift was over and you were laid on his bed.

“Is she pretty?”

“She’s beautiful.”

“Tell me more.”

You turned around and looked at Sang-woo, taking note of the way he shifted around in his chair as if he was trying to hide something. You walked over to him and leaned across the bar, resting your chin on the palm of your hand as you looked at him with innocent eyes. You needed an ego boost, especially from someone like Sang-woo.

It was with this closeness that you could truly take in his beauty. There was no denying the fact that he was a handsome older gentleman who reeked of sophistication and money. He had told you all about his job and the things that he had done within his company and although a lot of it made no sense to you and went in one ear and out the other, you still paid attention. Sang-woo was always dressed so smart too, his suits clearly expensive and tailored perfectly to his body. And his hair, you desperately wanted to run your fingers through his hair whilst his hand was in between your thighs.

“Nothing to tell other than she’s the prettiest thing I’ve seen in a long time. She has legs for days, hair that’s begging to be wrapped around my hand and let’s not even get onto the topic of her ass because I think I'd be sitting here all night telling you why I think it’s the best thing in the world.”

You chuckled lowly at his words, every sentence he spoke going straight in between your legs. A part of you hated how calm and collected Sang-woo looked, almost as if there was no emotion there. You were positive that it was another story underneath the bar though and all you could picture was his hardening cock desperate to have some release - whether that be in your mouth, on your face or inside of you. You would let Sang-woo use your body however he wanted too.

“Anyone would think that you were desperate to have me sit on your face, Sang-woo?”

With a huff, Sang-woo pulled away slightly from the closeness before placing his hand on top of yours. “I wouldn’t say desperate.”

“That’s a lie,” you said quietly so no-one else could overhear the conversation. You tilted your head to the side slightly and gave him a small smirk, teasing him in the most subtle of ways.“I can see it in your eyes, you want me more than you have wanted anyone. I’ve noticed the way that you look at me from across the bar, how you always come to me instead of the other bartenders. Just tell me that you want to fuck me…” you trailed off and removed your hand from his grip, only to move it slowly up his arm in a teasing manner. “Don’t tell me actually, ask me.”

“What makes you so confident that I want any of this, hey? You think because I enjoy your company whilst I have a drink, it means that i want to take you home and fuck you?”

Of course it did, Sang-woo was just messing with you. His lips were threatening to turn into a smirk but he managed to keep himself calm and composed, you hated that, hated it more than you had hated anything in your life. You wanted him to be in a frenzy like you were, wanted him to be desperate for any sort of touch underneath the clothing that he wore. You wanted him begging and desperate, teach him a lesson for all the teasing that he had thrown at you over the last few months.

“It’s the way you look at me, the way you lick your lips. You don’t even realise how desperate you look for me, out here looking like a puppy dog whenever I’m around. Everyone notices how you behave around me, Sang-woo…”

It was true. One of the other bartenders had made a comment about yourself and Sang-woo and the clear feelings there were between the two of you. You hadn’t noticed them yourself until your friend pointed them out and commented on the fact that Sang-woo would always be glancing over at you and checking you out, making sure that you were safe whenever a sports related fight broke out between a bunch of ridiculous drunken men.

“If it’s like this then shall we talk about the fact that you blatantly want me too?” Sang-woo removed himself from you completely and leaned back on the bar stool. You stood yourself up straight and watched him closely, awaiting his next comment that would have you weak at the knees. “I mean, your skirts have gone shorter since i’ve started paying attention to you and you just love to accidentally drop something right in front of me, don’t you? If anyone is desperate then it’s you.”

“Sang-woo. Do you want to fuck me, yes or no? It’s a pretty simple answer, don’t you think?”

“I’d fuck you right now in front of all these people if it meant I got to have your wet pussy wrapped around my cock.”

You took a deep breath and ignored the feeling that was rushing through all of your veins and straight into your bloodstream. You felt high on him, almost like a teenage girl who had just received her first kiss from her new boyfriend. No man had ever made you feel like this simply from his words so you could only imagine what fucking him would feel like but then of course, you remembered your intentions. As much as you wanted to be fucked by him roughly, it didn’t change the fact that you wanted him exactly how you had always wanted.

“I get the feeling that you think I'm going to submit to your every desire?”

“Are you not?”

“Oh, i’ll give you what you want but don’t think you’ll get away with it Sang-woo. I’ll have you handcuffed and blindfolded to your bed and begging me to let you cum if I really wanted to.” You leaned back down across the bar into the same position you were in before, this time dominance clear in your eyes. Sang-woo seemed taken back by your comments but not repulsed, if anything intrigued. It had been a long time since he had been at the mercy of another woman in the bedroom and he swore he would never do it again but with you, God he would do it every night. “I know you want to fuck me and you want to be in control but come on, let me take charge. I can see how stressed out you can get and don’t you think the thought of being handcuffed and me on top of you isn’t the best thing ever?”

“You will never have control over me, is that - “

“I will and frankly, I already do.” You glanced around the bar, suddenly grateful for the horrendous singing of some elderly drunk folk as it silenced yours and Sang-woo’s conversation from every-one else. You didn’t really want your manager to find out about the filthy conversations you were having on the floor, nor the fact that you were wetter than you had ever been in your life because of one of the customers. “i know for a fact that your cock is hard as fuck right now and probably leaking. Do you want me to suck your cock, Sang-woo?”

“Yes.”

Leaning closer to him, you began to whisper in his ear, your breath warm on his skin. “Do you want me to do it whilst you're handcuffed and unable to touch me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to tease you until you’re begging me to let you cum? Suck your cock nice and slow and bring you to the edge over and over and over again until you're just about bursting at the seams?”

“Stop - “

“Answer my question, Sang-woo.”

“You already know the answer.”

“Say it,” you said more forcefully, turning your head so you were looking at him directly in the eyes. You had him exactly where you wanted him.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Sang-woo took a deep breath. “I want you to suck my cock until I’m begging you to let me cum.”

“That wasn’t too hard, was it?” you giggled to yourself as you stood up straight and grabbed the bottle of Whiskey from the other side of the bar. Sang-woo looked shell shocked as he watched you move around so effortlessly and without any thought, almost acting as if you had just not whispered filth in his ear. “My shift finishes soon so wait here and when I’m done, I'll help you relax better than that whiskey ever will. Understood?”

“Understood.”

+++

The walk back to your house with Sang-woo had been pleasant enough. The two of you had engaged in small conversation, mostly about work and things they liked to do outside of working but nothing more when it came to the sexaul conversations you had both been engaged in earlier.

You found that Sang-woo was more relaxed when the two of you were alone. He had held your hand the whole walk home and rubbed his thumb across your skin to soothe you when he noticed that you were getting stressed out at the mention of some drunken man who had made a fool of himself and you had been left to deal with the cleaning up of his sick.

“It was kind of gross,” Sang-woo said with a chuckle as the two of you walked peacefully.

“Gross? It was absolutely rancid, Sang-woo. This is why I don't like my job. I shouldn’t have to clean up after people who don’t know where the toilets are.”

“But if you didn’t have this job, you wouldn’t have met me.” Sang-woo looked down at you as he spoke and he took note of the blush on your cheeks at his words, a small smile appearing on his face.

“That’s true, suppose you are the silver lining to it all. However, it doesn’t change the fact that I want something more for myself.”

“And you shall have more, don’t doubt yourself.”

You hummed at his words before taking a deep breath. “Let’s stop talking about the fact that my life is a disaster.”

“Don’t be a drama queen.”

“Shut up,” you responded with a smile. “Welcome to my house anyways,” you said as you opened the door for Sang-woo to step into. “It’s not the best but it's okay for the price of rent and it’s close to work so can I really complain?”

“I think it’s nice.”

“You’re just saying that to be kind. I bet you live in a nice big apartment, don’t you? That overlooks the city and looks really lovely at night time,” you said, moving yourself effortlessly around his body as you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and a cheap bottle of rose wine that you had picked up the day before. “This is a hostel compared to where you live.”

“No, I disagree. A big apartment or house always seems like a great idea until you actually move into it and then you realise just how lonely it can actually be. Plus, this has character. Mine looks like it belongs in the middle of a showroom.”

You handed Sang-woo the glass of wine that you had poured for him and moved towards the bedroom, grabbing his hand with your spare one. “I think if i had to choose between living here and living somewhere nice and expensive, I’d choose somewhere nice and expensive.” You paused and twirled around until you were facing Sang-woo, your spare hand now pressed against his chest as you took a sip of your wine. “Although, I’d be happy anywhere as long as there was a bed with you handcuffed to it.”

Sang-woo chuckled and took a large gulp of the wine, he was going to need all the alcohol he could get to deal with you. “You really want me all to yourself, don’t you?”

“I want to tease the fuck out of you until you are obbessed with me and want me every day.”

“Don’t need to handcuff me to do that.”

“Well, I still want to see you beg for me repeatedly, is that a crime?” you asked as you sat down at the bottom of the bed, now looking up at Sang-woo through your eyelashes, the height difference between the two of you was nothing more but a huge turn on.

“No, just not something I don't usually do when I’m sleeping with other women. I’m the one that’s usually in charge and takes control of the matters. I don’t let just anybody use my body for their pleasure, you know?”

“You can say no if you want too.”

“I want you too, badly. It’s just something that I’m not used to but it doesn’t mean I'm not willing to give it a go. It also means that I am not going to give up easily though. “

“Well get used to it darling because when i’m around, I’m in charge.”

You placed the now empty glass of wine onto the floor before turning yourself over onto your hands and knees. Slowly, you moved yourself up the bed, proud of your skirt for complying as it moved upwards, showing your ass to Sang-woo.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered as he stood at the end of the bed. He moved his hand down to his clothed cock and began to move over it slowly to release some tension as he continued to watch you put on a show for him. In your eyes, he looked absolutely unreal with a glass of wine in one hand and his other hand on his cock, all whilst being stood at the end of your bed with a suit that made him extremely fuckable.

“Look what I have,” you said as you moved yourself on your back, a pair of handcuffs dangling from your fingers. “Are you going to let me use them on you?”

“Come over here,” Sang-woo whispered as he crawled up the bed towards you, his now empty glass of wine discarded beside yours. “Gimme a kiss, think it’s the least I deserve.”

Giggling quietly to yourself, you sat up and wrapped your arms around Sang-woo's neck before pulling him down so that his body was fully laid across your smaller frame. The handcuffs laid beside your body as Sang-woo continued to assault your mouth with his own, not holding back in the slightest as he was finally able to kiss you after months of wanting and needing it. You moved your hand down to ruck up Sang-woo’s shirt, carelessly rubbing your hand across the toned, warm stomach, the skin on skin contact making you wonder how you managed to go so long without dragging him into your bed before. You cursed yourself for not allowing yourself to have him sooner, you were already obsessed with the way his skin felt on yours.

“Please take off your shirt,” you whispered against his mouth, making a pathetic attempt to undo the buttons with one hand. “I want to feel every inch of you against me.”

Shaking his head, Sang-woo moved back in for another kiss. “Tonight is about you and making you feel good and special.”

Tired of submitting to Sang-woo after your earlier discussion, you decided to put your plan into place and with every bit of strength that you had in your body, you rolled Sang-woo over until he was laid on his back and slightly dazzled. Even though your comments about him being submissive were a turn on, he hadn’t even expected you to go through with it but here he was, laid on his back with the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on straddling his waist and the night had only just started for the two of you. The handcuffs fell from his mind as he moved his hands down to your waist, helping you to move up and down along his clothed cock.

With Sang-woo in complete and utter bliss at the feeling, you tried your hardest to suppress your own moans that were threatening to echo around the room. Instead, you grabbed hold of the handcuffs that had been discarded and then Sang-woo’s wrists. Still, he didn’t open his eyes as he was too focused on the pleasure of your clothed underwear rubbing against him and the stimulation that he had been craving for months until he felt the cold metal wrap around his skin and the look in his eyes was something you would not forget for a very long time. There was a mixture of excitement and fear, the unknown activities of what you was going to do to him know he had no option but to lay there and be used by you, excited him like nothing else ever had but God, he knew that he was in for a night of it just by the dominating look in your eye and the wide grin etched onto your face.

Leaning his head to the side as he admired your handy work, Sang-woo chuckled quietly. “That wasn’t a very nice thing to do, Y/N.”

You shrugged your shoulders casually and pressed a light kiss against his cheek, the smell of his aftershave invading your space. “You will come to learn that I am not a very nice person when it comes to getting what I want and I thought we had already established that I wanted you handcuffed to my bed so I could take full advantage of your cock?”

Releasing a deep breath, Sang-woo almost didn’t know how to respond to your comment. He was falling for you so hard. “I don’t think I will be a nice person either when you release me from these handcuffs.”

“I’m not complaining - “ your voice cracked as a long, beautiful moan left your lips, Sang-woo’s cock grinding against your core was sending you wild and you loathed the fact that despite it all, he still held some dominance within the relationship. Whether it be his cock grinding against your or the look in his eyes which told you that you were in for it when you did let him go.

“Handcuffed to the bed and I’ve still got you moaning and acting as if my cock is stuffed inside you. Aren’t I good?”

“Not for long, my lovely. Despite what you are currently thinking, it’ll be you that’s begging and moaning and desperate for your release by the time that i have finished with you. I’m not going to be fully satisfied until you're at my mercy, is that understood?”

Sang-woo threw his head back, fuck he didn’t know what he was going to do with you.

Gliding your hand down Sang-woo’s chest, you unbuttoned his work trousers slowly, your hand occasionally brushing over his hard cock until you were satisfied. You finished by pulling down on his underwear, just enough to get his erection free and then moved your body further down his until you were just straddling underneath Sang-woo’s knees, his cock on full display for you to admire for as long as you wanted too.

Sang-woo didn’t know if he was dreaming or if he had died and gone to heaven but the feeling of your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock had Sang-woo moaning loudly within seconds. It had been a while since a woman had been on his knees for him and he was positive that because it was you and the fact that he was handcuffed to the bed that everything felt so much better and intense than ever before.

It boosted your self-confidence when Sang-woo moaned and gave you the power to move your mouth further down his length until he was practically down your throat. One of your first thoughts was that Sang-woo’s moans and breathy whispers of your name sounded like a perfect melody created by the almighty God himself. The sound of metal clanking cut your thoughts short though as you looked up at Sang-woo through your eyelashes.

“Need to touch you,” he whispered, head falling back as you continued to skillfully move your mouth up and down his cock, working him up to a perfect speed. “Your mouth is so warm and wet, darling. Let me fuck it, please.”

Releasing his cock from your mouth, you placed your hand there instead and moved it up and down slowly, adding pressure every now and again that had Sang-woo bucking his hips up to get more friction. “No.” Was all you simply said, not allowing Sang-woo to get what he wanted. It was your chance to pleasure him and make him feel so good then he craved your mouth for the rest of time.

Your lips were darkened and wet with saliva and all Sang-woo wanted to do was pull you up and kiss you hard but the handcuffs above his head restricted him from doing anything - he cursed you for having strong, metal ones - at least with flimsy ones, he would be able to break them apart and flip you over so he could fuck you into the mattress.

Swirling your tongue around Sang-woo’s dick, you continued the action a few times and listened to the soft whimpers that left Sang-woo before finally engulfing his cock again. Your cheeks were hallowed as you bobbed up and down without mercy, keen to get Sang-woo to the edge just so you could ruin it, an action you wanted to do over and over again. You knew that it wouldn’t take Sang-woo long to reach his peak, the teasing that had been going on all night bringing him pleasure without even having to be touched but you weren't going to let him get away with it that easily, not even when you wanted nothing more but to taste his cum.

“Come on,” Sang-woo whispered, tugging at the handcuffs again. “Let me - “

Sang-woo was cut off by your sucking on the head of his cock, knowing full well that it would shut him up. You continued to work at his cock, using your hands when necessary and deep throating him enough to make you gag and splutter around his cock. Sang-woo soon decided that his favourite sight in the world was watching you have tears falling down your face with spit covering your mouth. It was only when Sang-woo began to tense up and his moans became needier and louder that you pulled away - ruining his first orgasm of the night.

“No,” he whispered with frustration and desperation. “You can’t do that to me, please.”

“Daddy's going to cry?” you asked with an overexaggerated pout on your lip. “Get over it Sang-woo, just the first of many tonight.”

“I need to cum,” he groaned, watching as you made yourself more comfortable on the bed. You were still straddling him but this time, you were removing your shirt so your breasts were on full display for Sang-woo. “So fucking beautiful…”

“Listen to me - “ you leaned down and grabbed Sang-woo’s chin so he was forced to look at you. “We will go at my speed, we will do this however I want and for as long as I want, is it starting to click in your brain yet that you won’t be in charge tonight?”

Leaning back, you moved your hand back down to Sang-woo’s cock and chuckled as he cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. You gripped your hand around and continued to apply pleasure to tease him, just like you had done before.

Sang-woo was ready to burst, the sexual frustration becoming too much but he allowed you to take over and have your wicked way with him. You thought you were winning and he believed it to be cute of you, you had no idea what you was letting yourself in for when he could finally fuck you like you had always desired.

“You’re in for it, you understand that?”

You chuckled lowly and shook your head, your hand continuing to move slowly up and down. “Maybe I should sit myself on your cock and use my vibrator to make myself come, you’d feel me come around your cock and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”

“Behave - “

“No, I won’t behave. Where is the fun in behaving when I could be doing this to you instead? Do you know how pretty you look right now with your flushed cheeks and messy hair? I want to take a photograph of you so I can touch myself for the rest of time whilst looking at it, looking at how stunning and fucked you look right now. So pretty…”

Sang-woo moaned out at your words, not once has he had a woman speak to him in such a way. There was something about your voice and the words that you spoke that went straight to his cock, making him harder than he thought was ever humanly possible. He was alight with your words alone so with your hand moving slowly and teasingly down your cock, he felt indescribable.

“Sit on my cock,” Sang-woo whispered, hips bucking much to your dismay. You placed your spare hand against his stomach and pushed him down, stopping his movements instantly. “Please, I need to feel you around me, please.”

Mockingly, you tilted your head to the side and turned your lips into a pout. “I’m not satisfied with your begging.”

Sang-woo wanted to die of embarrassment but the other part of him was so turned on, he would have done whatever you had wanted him to do at that moment. “Please ride my cock, it’s all i’ve been thinking about for months and I need it, i need it so fucking badly like you don’t understand. I just know that you’ll be the best fuck of my life so why don’t you prove me right, hey? Ride my cock like the good, filthy girl I know you are.”

You were infatuated but also conflicted. On one hand, you wanted to give Sang-woo what he wanted and ride his cock until he was crying out your name but the other part of you just wanted to continue to tease him for as long as he could take it.

“Tell me you deserve my pussy.”

“I deserve it,” he replied, heart racing as he watched you shuffle further up his body until his cock was lined up with your entrance. “Please,” he whispered, tongue licking his lips as he continued to watch you until you were hovered above his dick. “Ride my cock better than any other woman ever will or has.”

With a simple sentence like that, you lowered yourself down until Sang-woo’s cock was deep inside you. There was a loud gasp from the both of you. For Sang-woo, it was the feeling of having your warm, wet pussy wrapped around his cock after so long of fantasising about it every Friday night and for you, it was how big is cock was and how it fit inside you perfectly.

“Made to ride my cock,” Sang-woo said, hands once again tugging on the metal handcuffs that were keeping him in place. He couldn’t wait to get out of them and show you what a real fucking was, making you come until you had tears running down your face and you couldn’t take his cock anymore.

You took a moment for yourself to get used to the size of Sang-woo, it had been a while since you had been in this position with anyone but it wasn’t painful, more just uncomfortable. You tried to ignore the smirk that Sang-woo had on his face as you tried to adjust, the sneaky fucker was proud of himself. It was a known fact that he still held some of the dominance despite the position that he was currently in, a few words at the right time spoken by the right person would be enough to have you falling apart around him.

“Why don’t you move, hmm? I want you to feel how good my cock is around you, want you to make you come over and over again and cover me in - “

Sang-woo was cut off by the sudden movement of your hips and your small hand wrapping around his neck, a move neither of you had expected to do.

“Why don’t you shut that pretty mouth of yours before I gag it?” you asked him, tightening your hand slightly around his throat for effect. “I’ll ride your cock however I want to, whenever I want too and you will only come if I allow it, is that understood?”

Sang-woo nodded quickly although it didn’t change the fact that all he wanted to do was slam up into you and have you begging for him instead of the other way around. He could easily switch the positions, even with his hands cuffed together but he was going to allow you to have your fun, let you believe that you were in control for as long as you deemed fit.

You slowly began to move yourself along Sang-woo’s cock, loving the pleasure you were bringing yourself as well as Sang-woo. He looked like an angel as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, soft moans slipping from his mouth with every move of your hips but with your small hand wrapped around his neck, he somehow managed to look even more beautiful.

You improved your pace until you were bouncing up and down on Sang-woo’s cock, your own back arching at the pleasure as you continued to drain every little bit out of him. You had abandoned the hand around Sang-woo’s neck (much to his dismay) and instead had laced your fingers through his hair, tugging everytime his cock reached the right place.

“Think i’m in love with your cock,” you whispered as you leant down and shared a kiss with Sang-woo, full of tongues and heavy breathing as you continued to allow pleasure to run through every nerve of your body. Sang-woo was a mess underneath you, his earlier ruined orgasms making everything seem one hundred percent more heightened. “Where do you want to come, Sang-woo?”

“On your face,” he answered, now not worried about disobeying whatever rules you had setin place as he lifted his hips up to meet your own thrusts, the two of you joining together at the same time only heightening the feelings that you were both experiencing. It was intense and hot and you loved every moment of it. “Let me cover your pretty face in cum.”

“You think you deserve that?”

“I do, been so well behaved for you. Please let me cover you in my cum, please.”

Ignoring Sang-woo for the moment, you chase your own orgasm. You slid your hand in between your legs and began circling your clit, your own sweet release getting closer and closer with every thrust of Sang-woo’s hips and your own fingers working wonders.

“I’m close,” you told him, head flying back as Sang-woo thrusted up harder into you, the perfect rhythm established that had you needing more and more. “Don’t you dare come Sang-woo, don’t you dare. If you cum then I’ll punish you, is that understood?”

Sang-woo nodded with gritted teeth as he watched you use his cock for your own pleasure, your orgasm soon occuring and it took every part of you not to fully submit to Sang-woo as you felt your orgasm rush through your body, your legs tensing and your pussy tightening around Sang-woo’s cock which only dared to trigger his orgasm.

You took a minute to compose yourself, unsure of what your next move would be but knowing that you wanted it to involve Sang-woo’s cum. You felt alive, every part of your body desperate for the feelings all over again. In the space of an hour, he had ruined your life and made you become obsessed with him, his body and his cock. Every part of him was perfect as you looked down at him, his cock still hard inside of you and desperate for a release.

“I’m going to release you from your handcuffs but you have to be kind to me, Sang-woo.”

Even though you didn’t really want to, you lifted yourself up off Sang-woo’s cock, the sight of your wetness and his pre-cum making him groan loudly. His cock was painfully hard and red, desperate for some sort of touch or release.

Sang-woo watched closely as you moved up his body, reluctantly undoing the handcuffs that had been keeping him in place. Sang-woo admired how naive you were to the whole situation.

You looked at him closely, waiting for his next move. You knew that Sang-woo would either stick by you or disobey everything that you had ever said, a part of you hoped for the latter just so you could be fucked nice and hard but you were enjoying the power that you had over him.

Sang-woo soothed his wrists before staring up at you - you were on your knees beside him, hair falling down past your face and flushed cheeks. “I’m not going to be nice to you.” Was all Sang-woo said before the positions had changed completely. Within a matter of seconds, Sang-woo had you on your back and your wrists pinned above your head.

“This wasn’t part of the rules,” you said as you struggled against Sang-woo.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t want you to stop,” you admitted, eyes moving down to the handcuffs that Sang-woo held in his spare hand.

“Then shut up and behave yourself, think someone needs to learn a lesson on who's the boss around here.”

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