content warning: fem!viewer. these are explicit smut videos, watch at your own risk. you have been warned! if you don’t like this, don’t watch.

author’s note: i’ve been seeing so many twitter links posts for different fandoms so i decided to do one for squid game. make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working let me know. this was so much fun hehe. enjoy <3

want more? check out part 2❤️‍🔥

〇 salesman / recruiter tw: bdsm

he never makes love, he fucks, like he hates you

you better take it all

△ in-ho / frontman (001)

he gets so hard watching you play the games

relieving stress on his limousine

too big

□ thanos + nam-gyu (230 + 124)

they didn’t like your vote, they’ll change your mind

“see? you can’t vote x. staying here is way better”

〇 thanos (230)

he likes it rough

loves doggy

△ nam-gyu (124)

the way he talks is sooo namgyu, your throat around his cock + degradation? perfect combo

im telling you he has an obsession with your mouth

□ jun-ho / police officer

after a nightmare he had to make sure you were good

passionate and loving

taking care of you after a long day

〇 sang-woo (218)

you asked your hot professor for help, this is how it went :p

thinking about you

△ dae-ho (388)

he’s a MUNCH

matches your freak

□ min-su (125)

mommy kink going crazy

type of shit he deserves pt 1

pt 2

〇 myung-gi (333)

he’s an asshole

△ pink guards

being their favorite player <3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: request are open! also, lmk if you would like to be on my squid game fics tag list!

Sitting in your office across from Junho’s, you had spent the past few hours at the station looking through active cases you were working on. Your office was only being filled by the sound of you flipping pages, and your attention was set on the work in front of you until you heard footsteps coming into the hall. You look up from your desk to see your husband as he walks straight past your door and into his office, slamming his door shut in the process. 

Not even a good morning, you think to yourself. Rude. 

But, not surprising. You would be wrong if you didn’t admit that your husband’s recent behavior had been, well, frustrating. You had already almost lost your mind the day you received a call from your shared boss about some fisherman having found his body in the middle of the ocean with a gunshot wound in his shoulder, and he wasn’t making the situation you both were in now any easier. 

The weeks following his disappearance had been more than confusing. He swore he couldn’t remember what had happened to him, but you knew better than that. After all, you both worked the same profession that required skills such as reading people. Also, he was your husband for goodness sake. You knew his quirks, and you especially knew when he was lying. You’d watch how he would break out in a sweat in the middle of the night, how he would keep a map stashed away at his desk and at your shared apartment with different islands having been circled, hiding it to make sure you never saw it, or how he seemed more vigilante when the two of you traveled on the subway. He swore nothing was wrong, but you knew better. 

So, one day, after work, you had had enough of Junho and his behavior. You were tired of the secrets and the sneaking out in the middle of the night when he thought you were asleep. Dinner between the two of you had been quiet that evening, and you had had enough at that point. Slamming your dishes down into the sink, you cursed at Junho, asking him what was going on with him. He was hesitant, but he knew he couldn’t keep hiding the truth from you any longer. He knew you were good at your job, so he knew he needed your help as well. He told you about the island, the games, and about a man named Gi-hun. You were shocked to say the least, but you knew he was telling the truth. You believed him, and you made sure to let him know you would help him to take down the games. 

Yet, him telling you the truth didn’t smooth out the rough spot your marriage was in. Junho had become so focused on bringing the games down that he also had lost focus on the intimacy between the two of you. He didn’t ever seem up for anything anymore, and although you knew how occupied he kept himself because how important taking down the games was to him, you missed him more than you let on. You missed his attention; you missed his touch. 

So, you hated how easy it seemed for him to ignore you at home and, now, also at work. If he didn’t want to have sex with you at home because he was “too tired” to do anything due to how busy he was, fine. It hurt your feelings, but you knew how determined he was. But, he didn’t have to ignore you at work either. You were still his co-worker.

I’m also your wife, you asshole. 

You let out a huff, not sure what to do. This behavior had already been going on for a while, so you try your best to let it go. 

When lunch hour came around, you got up from your desk and grabbed your coat from the back of your chair. If Junho wasn’t going to remember to put in effort into the relationship because of how busy he was, you decided it would be best for you to remind him that he was still married. There was a new spot you wanted to try, and you were hoping the two of you could spend the afternoon having lunch together. 

However, your intentions were halted when you saw Junho walk out of his office, not even stopping to glance in the direction of yours. You quickly put on your coat, rushing out your office door before he disappears to wherever he has to go now. 

“Junho!” 

Turning when he heard you calling out for him, Junho stopped walking out the building. “Hey, I have to go. Can we talk later? I’m meeting up with Gi-hun for lunch.”

You blink slowly in amusement at your husband. A part of you wanted to blow up on him at that moment, but you knew better than to do that at work, especially when the front desk workers were now staring at the both of you. So, you don’t say anything. And, Junho, being too busy in that moment with regards to what he and Gi-hun were meeting up to discuss, walked out the door when you didn’t say anything to stop him from walking out the building. 

Another two hours go by before you see your husband come back from his meeting. It’s the same routine, walking past your office, not saying anything to you, walking straight into his office, and closing the door behind him. 

Again, a part of you is telling you to let it go, but you have had enough at this point. Getting up from your chair, you make your way to his office, not bothering to knock. Junho felt himself get upset for a second thinking someone had walked into his office without knocking and unannounced, until he realized it had been you. 

“Y/N,” Junho says, looking back down at the map on his desk, “if it isn’t important, I’m busy right now. Can we talk when we get home?”

You look down at the same map that had been getting more attention than you had been getting for the past few months. You shake your head and scoff at your husband, who doesn’t look up even when you're standing right in front of him. 

“Junho,” you start to say, and Junho can hear the tone in your voice, “I’m your wife, you remember that right?”

Junho, confused by the question, looks up at you as he frowns. He knew you were his wife, he went home to you every day.

“Of course I know that. What are you getting at?” 

You tip your head to the side slightly, almost as if you were trying to get your thoughts across to him without saying anything directly. “You didn’t say good morning to me this morning.”

Junho huffs in response, not amused with what you had said. “I’m sorry, I had a lot to do once I got here.” He didn’t understand what was so important about it. 

“You didn't say good morning to me at home either.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I have a lot of work to do, okay? Whatever this is, we can talk about it at home.”

“That’s the thing, Junho,” you respond, bringing your hands out in front of you, “You have a lot of work today. You also had a lot of work yesterday, and the day before, and you’ll have a lot of work tomorrow too. We won’t talk about it when you get home because this is the way it’s been for months now!”

Junho looks up at you, rubbing his forehead due to now feeling bothered himself. “Do you think this is an appropriate conversation to be having at work?”

“Do you think the way you've been treating me has been an appropriate way to treat your wife?”

Junho doesn't say anything. He’s not sure what to say, and you don’t feel like talking to the wall he has become. You turn on your heel and make your way out his office, knowing that his silence was his answer to what you had just said. 

“Whatever, Junho. When you decide to act like my husband again, let me know.” 

You went home at your usual time that day, and that night, Junho went home later than you had. It was nothing new to either of you, but Junho felt especially guilty having done that the same day as the argument you both had had at the station. He had gone home to find you already asleep in your shared bedroom, analyzing your body while you laid peacefully under the sheets.

He missed you, just as much as you missed him. He knew things hadn’t been the same between the two of you, but he hadn’t realized how affected you had become because of it. You were right, he hadn’t been giving the attention you deserved. 

You had been there for him those days he laid in the hospital after he had been found, and you didn’t call him crazy like his boss had when he told you about the games. You had stuck with him through all the thick and thin he had been going through, and he hadn’t repaid you for how patient you had been with him.  

The next day at work, you wake up and make your way to the station. You had woken up to an empty bed that morning, and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it stung you more than usual. After the talk you had with Junho the previous day, you thought something would have changed, but you had ended up being wrong. 

You were surprised to get to the office and see that Junho was already in his office, his door unusually open. You ignore it, not wanting to have another confrontation. 

Making your way to your office and sitting in your chair, everything was happening as it usually does, until you heard a knock at your door. Looking up, you see your husband standing there. It surprises you, given that he seemed to never give you much attention at work anymore. 

“Would you,” he says, leaning against the door frame, “want to get lunch with me, later?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You couldn’t remember the last time he had asked you to spend time together. Nodding in agreement, a small smile falls on your face. Junho smiles back in response, telling you to go to his office during lunch hour once you were ready to go. 

Once it does, you make your way to your husband’s office, a small spring in your step, you think this is finally the chance to spend some time with your husband. 

That is until you go inside to see that he wasn’t in office anymore. You think he may have just gone to the restroom or taken a phone call outside. You decide to sit in his chair and wait for him to come back. There’s no way he would just bail on you. 

Right?

As you wait, 5 minutes turns into 10, and then 20, and then 30, and suddenly, an hour has already gone by. You had kept yourself busy reading through his case files and looking at that stupid map a dozen times before you got up from his seat.

Screw him.

You don’t know why you even had your hopes up. Junho had, yet again, ignored you completely after having gotten your hopes up. Upset, you get up from his chair and make your way out of his office and into yours, before Junho comes rushing in. He sees the look you have on your face, and he knows you're pissed. 

“Hey, look, I’m sor-”

“No,” you say, putting your hand up to stop him, “I really don't want to hear it.” 

You attempt to make your way out of his office before Junho slams his door shut and stands in front of it. 

“I’m sorry! Okay? I got a call from Gi-hun about a lead in the case, and it was urgent, so I left in a hurry.” 

You shake your head. “I really don’t care, Junho. One afternoon! You couldn’t even make time to spend one afternoon getting lunch with me. It’s like you don’t even care anymore.” 

Junho shakes his head back at you. “That’s not true, and you know that.”

“Do I?” You respond back. “It’s like you don't even remember that we’re married. You never pay me any attention anymore.” 

You continue to question him, sensing all your feelings crash down all at once. “You don’t say good morning to me in the morning anymore, you don’t say bye before you leave to where ever it is you go on the weekend, you don’t give me any updates on the case, and you ignore me at home and at work. We don’t spend any time together anymore because you're always too busy. I mean Junho…do you not love me anymore?”

Junho freezes at the last part of your statement. Of course he loves you. He knew he hadn't been the best husband lately, but how could you possibly think that?

You sigh in frustration. You've already said too much, you think, might as well keep going. “You don’t want to do anything with me anymore, and…you don’t even want to sleep with me anymore. So, I don’t know what to think.” 

Junho’s eyes soften as he hears you talk, shifting around on his feet. He feels guilty. He never intended for you to ever feel unwanted, and he, especially, never intended for you to feel unloved. 

“I’m sorry, baby.”

You lock eyes with Junho. Baby. You couldn't remember the last time he had called you something lovingly. 

“I never wanted you to feel that way.” Junho stepped towards you to get rid of the space between the two of you, bringing you into an embrace. You’re still upset, and you know you shouldn't, but you melt into his touch. You knew you needed to be stronger, but you were desperate for any kind of attention from him at this point. 

Junho leans back to look at your face. He sees your pout, and he leans down to peck your lips. 

Junho’s testing the waters, and when you don’t retaliate he kisses you again and again. He wants to make up the way he’s been treating you. Junho goes in for another kiss, and this time, he picks you up, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. You let out a squeal at his action before he finds your lips again. You know you should probably try to talk things out more, but you're loving this new found attention. Once he has you wrapped around him. Junho doesn’t stop kissing you even when he sits you down on his desk, and you don't mind. He has his hand on the back of your neck, having a constant pull on you to keep you close to his lips. His other hand is placed on your thigh and you feel his touch shooting up your body. 

You can’t help but sneak your hands under his shirt, feeling him up. You knew your husband was fit, but you didn't mind the reminder of what he hide under his shirt as you felt his stomach and abs. Junho doesn't mind either, your touch sending chills down his body. He was sensitive to your touch, especially since he hadn’t felt it touch in a while. 

And, god, did he miss it. It was his own fault, he knew that. He never meant to neglect you in any way, he had just been so busy trying to solve his own dilemmas that he had forgotten to balance out his attention on both you and his problems. 

Junho kisses you down your neck, and you throw your head back at the sensation. His soft lips travel all the way down to your collar bone thanks to your button up. His hands are on your thighs, gripping them hard as he concentrates on the soft moans coming from your mouth. He can feel the bulge growing in his pants, and he lets out a moan of his own when he feels you waste no time in starting to grind yourself against it. 

Taking a step back, he listens as you whine at the distance he’s just created. You look down at him up and down, seeing the way his cock is starting to become more pronounced under his pants. You reach out for him, needing him close to you before he grabs your hands and puts them on your sides. Shaking his head slightly, he takes a step back to you before reaching down to the buttons of your pants, slowly unbuttoning them as he doesn't break eye contact with you. 

“Let me make it up to you, baby.” 

You don’t say anything as he finishes unbuttoning. He pulls your pants completely off, discarding them onto the floor before connecting his lips with yours again. Up to this point, his kisses had been gentle, almost like an apology. This time, his kiss is desperate, needy. His hands are back at your thighs, gripping them. He had forgotten how soft you were. He had missed this feeling just as much as you had, and you're driving him crazy as your hands touch him all over. 

Junho pulls away, and just as you were about to complain again, you watch him lower himself to kneel down infront of you. He takes his time to press kisses from your ankle and make his way up, slowly and steadily. He kisses up your exposed inner thighs, not breaking eye contact with you once.  Your legs start to shake, excited at the idea of Junho finally giving you the attention you've been craving for months now. He nips at your inner thighs, loving the way you twitch at the feeling. He can see the dampness becoming more and more prominent on your panties, causing him to smirk. 

“I want to make you feel good, gorgeous.”

You don’t say anything. All you feel is your pussy pulsing more and more as Junho gets closer and closer to your heat. He’s barely started, and he’s already driving you crazy. 

Junho takes wet kisses the rest of the way up your thighs before licking your clothed pussy. You shiver at the sensation, letting out a moan. Your sounds only fuel his need to please you. He takes long licks at your inner thigh, wanting to make you more impatient for his attention. Once he’s satisfied with his work, having left small bruises to your soft, plush thighs, he pulls your panties to the side, groaning when he sees how wet you are. 

“Look at you, angel. Already so wet for me.”

Junho leans in, placing his tongue on your wetness and taking a lick. You reach out to grab him, running your hand through his hair before settling and gripping at it, feeling yourself getting lost in the feeling. He could feel his dick twitching in his pants, the feeling of you grabbing at him making him enjoy more of how quickly he could undo you in minutes. He doesn’t take a second to slow down, eating you out in the ways he knew you liked. Moving his tongue up and down, he takes in your taste while moaning against your cunt, the vibrations of his voice causing you to clench around nothing. You were in desperate need for him to fill you up, but his tongue was doing wonders against you. Swirling his tongue around, he can feel you getting sensitive, feeling how you instinctively start to pull away from him. Realizing, he grabs your waist with his hands and pulls your body closer to his face. 

Continuing to swirl his tongue around, he takes a long, wet lick up your slit before he focuses his attention on your clit. Sucking on it, he feels like he's about to cum just looking at you as your eyes roll back, your back arches on his desk, and how your breasts pop out more out your chest. He hadn’t even realized you had unbuttoned your shirt and taken out your breasts. 

Moaning at the site, he lets his mouth come off you with a loud, wet pop. Your panting only fueled him to keep making you feel good with his attention. Leveling himself properly, he takes a long lick from your lower belly all the up your chest before he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, looking up at you and sucking like he was hungry to take as much of you in as he could. The view of him under your eye sight, him giving all his attention with his eyes, and looking up at you through his lashes with praise and admiration, you feel yourself starting to remember how good your husband had become in pleasing you during your time together. Before you can even catch your breath, Junho takes one of his hands to your breast, massages it with his palm. His other hand makes its way down to your now dripping pussy, barely hovering over it before you start grinding yourself against his fingers. 

He was intoxicated with your noises of pleasure and the taste of you. The sight of you coming undone in front of him on his desk, your legs spread open and your pussy dripping for him made him think about all the other dirty things he wanted to do to you. Taking his lips off your now raw and exposed nipple, he easily thrusts his fingers into you from how wet you were. Your eyes are closed, so you can’t see the way Junho is looking at you, but his stare is all set on your now. He checks you out, he couldn’t believe he had let you, his wife, go this long without this kind of attention. You were, to him, the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, and now you were here, on his desk, moaning his name. Leaning forward he kisses your jaw and makes his way to your ear, taking in how your mouth is opened from all the sensations you were feeling. 

“Look at you, sitting here so pretty for me. Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

You hum in response, only being able to concentrate on his fingers and how he curled them perfectly inside of you. He chuckles, showing off the smile that drove you crazy. By now, you’re a mess, and Junho doesnt think he can wait any longer. You’re sitting on his desk, legs wide open and your chest completely exposed. Before you can even think about something to say, Junho removes his fingers instead of you, much to your disappointment. You watch as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking on them. 

You had forgotten how crazy Junho could make you. 

By now, your pussy is throbbing, and you feel the need for Junho to be inside you. Junho can’t ignore the tightness in his pants anymore, and he quickly moves to remove his shirt from off his body. You watch as his lower stomach becomes exposed until he no longer has his shirt on anymore. His abs are as defined as always, but you still reach out to feel him up all the way up to his chest. Junho is no longer in the mood for teasing or simple touches, he needed to feel himself inside of you. 

Finally reaching for his pants, you look down to see how he takes off his pants and boxers in a swift motion down to his ankles, his dick springing free. Junho was your husband, so obviously you had slept with him before. But after going this long without sex, you stare in awe at his dick, red and leaky. You knew he was big, but you didn’t remember him being that big. 

“This is what you do to me, baby.” Junho takes his own hand down to his own member, stroking it while you watch him. Junho grabs your chin, guiding you to look at him in the eyes directly. There’s a gloss in your eyes, and he knows he has you right where he wants you to be, needy for him. 

“You’re so quiet, angel. Talk to me. Are you going to be a good for me, mh? Are you gonna let me make you feel good?”

A whiny mhm comes out your mouth. You'd be whatever he wanted you to be. A good girl comes out his lips before he’s flipping you over on his desk, grabbing your waist and pulling your ass up to give him access to stick his cock inside of you. You whine softly, pushing your ass back into him, feeling desperate for him to fill you up. The hardness of his cock against you is making you excited, and Junho can’t help but take in the sight of you in front of him. The plumpness of your ass against his cock only makes him feel more and more turned on. His head is now red and needy for you. Junho slaps his dick harshly against your ass before he guides it into your folds, letting your dripping pussy get all over him. He grips your ass at the feeling before Junho thrusts himself into you, and he can’t stop himself from praising you. 

A long drawn out fuck comes out his lips at the same time you let a sensual sound come out your lips. You knew Junho didn’t like you being quiet. You knew he wanted to hear how good he was making you feel.  

Junho, on the other hand, let out a sound of pleasure at the feeling of you around him. He hadn’t been inside you for a while now, and he can’t believe how he could've gone this long without feeling your pussy around him. 

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good.”

You’re too concentrated on the feeling of Junho finally stretching you out as he finds that pace he knows you like that you almost don’t hear him. He knows you're out of it too, seeing how you don’t react to his praise. Leaning forward, he grabs your chin, turning your head to seemingly kiss you before he stops milli inches from your lips. You whine, leaning forward to kiss him before he pulls back. 

“My pretty girl, you like that? How I make you feel?” 

You let out a breathy yes, and suddenly, you feel yourself holding back screams. Junho, being your husband, knows all the squishy spots inside of you that make you go crazy, and he was making sure he filled you up exactly the way he knew you liked, the way he knew would make you cum on his dick. His office is filled with the slaps of his balls hitting your ass, and Junho now has his hands on your waist, pulling you in harder and harder back into him. He watches the way your ass bounces on him. The way his hands fit perfectly into the curves of your body, the way he fits inside your pussy, and the way your moaning his name makes him swear that you must have been made exactly for him. 

He’s stretching you out perfectly, making sure he fills you up as much as he can. You feel so good, so fucked out. You had missed this feeling so much. 

You bent over his desk, so exposed, and with your shared boss only a few doors down, you feel so dirty knowing how you loved to do it with Junho in scandalous places. You remember back to the days the two of you had been cops together, and how the both of you patrolling the same nights would end in you riding Junho in the driver seat. You couldn’t help yourself, you loved a man in uniform. 

You knew Junho wouldn’t let himself cum until you did, so you let yourself get lost in the pleasure he was giving you and the sound of his grunts until you start feeling that tightness in your lower belly. Junho sees how you instinctively start rocking yourself more against his cock, and he knows you're close to finishing.  

“That’s it, gorgeous. Come on my cock, baby.” 

The stretching in your pussy, the name calling, the sounds of Junho moaning your name was the perfect combination, enough to send you into your release. Junho watches as your grip at the edge of his desk. You let out a moan, calling out for him as he feels your pussy clench around him and your wetness increases. He feels himself slipping in and out of you faster, and he feels his ego rise knowing that he had made you finish as strongly as you did.  

You feel Junho’s stroke starting to get sloppy, and you feel his grip starting to become tighter around your waist. He slaps your ass, and your ass perks up at the feeling. Reaching out for him while he stood behind you, you run your hand against his chest, and Junho doesn’t think he can take your touch and the feeling of him ramming himself into you at the same time. 

“Cum for me, baby. I’ve been a good girl. I want to feel you cum inside of me. Please.”

Junho can’t stop himself from being affected by your words, and the warmth you suddenly feel inside of you lets you know he was filling you up with his cum. You groan at the feeling, loving how his seed fills you up. 

Junho pants from his spot behind you, and you lay yourself down on his desk, trying to compose yourself as well. You’re so sensitive, but you feel so much euphoria all over your body. Junho, seeing as you're not moving, bends down and kisses you up your back, knowing how sensitive you are to the sensation. Your back aches again at the feeling.  

“Fuck, baby. Mhhhh. You make me feel so good.”

Junho chuckles, leaning forward a bit more to kiss your cheek. 

“I promise to always make sure I’m taking care of my girl.”

WANT TO READ MORE? Click Here!

TAGLIST (pls let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in smut)!! : @vinaluvsu @ninglovr @okaycharr

KANG DAEHO / PLAYER 388

he is absolutely embarrassed and feels like a total perv. he was blushing so hard that he looked like he had a fever. he spews out apologies the whole time and is totally ashamed of himself as he uses his hand to cover his face once he felt his dick getting harder and harder, and when he could tell that you could feel him too, the shame he felt was too much. his precum starts seeping through his pants and he swears he’s about to actually cum if this ride doesn’t end soon and you don’t get off of him. he has to bite his lip back to stop any moans from slipping and he is absolutely not looking forward to speaking to you once this ride is over and he for sure isn’t looking forward to getting the pictures of this event back from the ride operator. this will be a moment that he thinks about daily. please don’t mention this to him ever again.

“god, i’m s’sorry…can this ride be over please?”

THANOS / PLAYER 230 / CHOI SU-BONG

he’s a shameless fuck, okay? he’s going to smirk up at you while he watches the blush paint all over your cheeks as you try to move off of him. “wow, you’re so thirsty for cock you gotta ride me in public?” all you can do is tell him to shut up. but as the goofiness wares off and the situation settles a little more on him and he can actually feel the tent in his pants, he starts grinding up against you and thrusting up a little, fucking you through your pants. bits of precum start leaking out when he can actually feel his dick hitting your tiny hole, and as soon as you two get off this ride, you both are going home.

“fuck, look what you did. you gonna help me out?”

SEONG GIHUN

he didn’t want to get on this ride in the first place, claiming he was too old but you had forced him onto it and right now he hates himself. he feels like a teenage boy getting hard at the sight of the slightest bit of skin showing on a girl. he refuses to look up at you and tries to push you off of him, but when you plop right back down on him, he swears he just came in his pants. “gihun—”, but he stops you from speaking anymore. “don’t! i— i don’t think i can do this much longer, i’m sorry—” he throws his head up towards the sky and then towards the ride operator thinking ‘why me?’. once you two get off of the ride and he can feel something dripping down his leg, he swears he’s gonna kill himself once you two get home. he can’t bare to look at you and he refuses to ask you to help him out with his ‘problem’.

“gihun, come out of your room! it’s okay, i understand!”

“please just let me wallow in shame…”

MYUNGI / PLAYER 333 / MG COIN ★

he doesn’t give a fuck. sits there like it’s completely normal. you’ll feel him hard, but it won’t be crazy noticeable. he’s not some horny teenager who just learned that girls don’t piss out of their ass, you won’t catch him cumming in his pants. but once you two get somewhere more private, he’s going to claim that he’s finishing what you started. but don’t think the situation isn’t turning him on completely. every chance you had to get off of him, he doesn’t let you. he holds you down on his dick by your waist and he smirks at the blush slowly spreading on your cheeks as you look at him with wide eyes. the way he speaks to you makes it seem like he’s claiming that you fell onto him on purpose.

“what? you came onto me. so help me fix my problem since you’re so needy.”

HAWNG JUNHO

not utterly embarrassed but he’s not too calm about it either. you certainly catch the blush on his cheeks, but with one hand he holds your hip down with a grip that falters from tight to light, as if he doesn’t know weather he wants to get you off of him or if he wants you to stay. but once he realizes that he doesn’t want the people around him to see how hard he is, he grips you close to him with both of his hands. you can feel his fingernails digging into you every now and then when there’s a particularly rough bounce and he has to squeeze his eyes shut. you could tell he was fighting demons in him, the sweat that was dripping down his forehead was concerning. when the rides over he makes you stand closely in front of him to keep his boner hidden, and you can feel it pressing right smack against your ass. when you turn around to face him, he has a small shy smile on his face, the light pink still dusting over his cheeks.

“sorry…do you think we could take care of this maybe and finish this trip another day?”

NAMGYU / PLAYER 124

he tries to play it off and teases you while laughing. “couldn’t go without my cock for two hours?” he even thrusts up a couple of times to tease you, but after awhile he realizes it’s not a joke anymore and when he can feel the precum threatening to leak, he realizes he’s just been teasing himself and he quickly snaps his head to the side and pushes a hand against your chest. what were you trying to do here? if you go to tease him back and grind on him as revenge he’s going to give you the absolute fattest glare.

“what? i thought it was a joke, right?”

“i swear i’ll push you into the center right now if you don’t stop.” (he’s not joking)

ALI ABDUL

he was super excited to go to the amusement park and try out this ride for the first time, but he certainly didn’t expect this to happen. everytime he goes to move you and you somehow wound up back on top of him, he honestly wants to cry from the shame. at first it was funny, but now it was clearly starting to get him excited. yeah it felt good but, “stop it ali, get yourself together…” he just felt way too bad and he ends up giving up on the whole situation and just has to cover his whole face with both of his palms. everytime that you laugh and say that it’s okay, he thinks it’s getting better, but then you bounce right back down and he can’t take it. he’s holding his precum back (i don’t know how at this point) and it’s making tears sting and prick his eyes. he knew he was gonna have to jerk off to fix this and when he was, he was totally going to imagine this, he knew it, and it made him so ashamed. he definitely mumbles some things in urdu that you don’t understand at all, but just know he’s shaming himself and throwing a few curses at himself.

You stirred slightly, stretching a bit beneath the blanket. It was enough to rouse him.

Without opening his eyes, his grip on you tightened, and he let out a content hum. The sound was warm, and so was the feeling of his body close to yours.

“Morning,” you murmured, your voice heavy with sleep.

Jun-ho responded with a groggy noise. “Morning,” he mumbled.

Before you could roll away, he shifted downward until he was under the covers. He rested his head on your stomach, his lips brushing lazy kisses over your skin. His breath was warm, and you heard a soft groan from him, drawing a soft laugh out of you despite your drowsy state.

“Jun-ho,” you said, your voice still tinged with sleep. “What are you doing?”

His answer was muffled beneath the blanket, his lips ghosted over your stomach as he spoke. “Staying right here.”

“Come out,” your hand instinctively found his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands.

“No,” he said simply, a smile in his voice as he nuzzled closer. His hands rested on your sides, holding you gently, as though you might slip away if he didn’t. “I like it here. Warm. Safe.”

You sighed, but there was no real frustration to it. How could there be? You’d seen him at his lowest, drowning in uncertainty and grief, haunted by questions that had no answers. You’d been there through the nights when the weight of his memories felt too heavy. Those moments when you were there for him had chipped away at his walls, slowly revealing the man underneath—vulnerable and loving.

“Alright, fine,” you relented. “But don’t blame me if you suffocate down there.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he let out a soft muffled laugh, shifted slightly underneath the blanket.

You couldn’t see his face, but you could picture it perfectly—the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners, the smile that made your heart flutter.

“You’re impossible,” you said, though you made no move to push him away.

“I’ve been told that before,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “But you married me anyway.”

Eventually, he surfaced, his head popping out from beneath the blanket. His hair was a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and yet he’d never seemed more at peace when he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Your fingers brushed a stray piece of his hair back and he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, slow and unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world. And maybe he did.

Later, the two of you were in the kitchen, making breakfast together. You stood by the counter, absentmindedly slicing fruit, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the sight of him walking over to the fridge, then the cabinets, wearing that faded t-shirt you loved seeing him in.

As Jun-ho turned to bring the plates over to the counter, he caught your eyes and paused. His expression shifted, a smile spreading across his lips as he took you in.

He set the plates down and padded over to you, then you felt his arms wrap around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, the warmth that radiated from him, and the quiet hum of his happiness filling the space.

Just as you turned around to reach for a bowl, you felt his hands on your waist. With one smooth motion, he lifted you onto the counter. Your eyes widened in surprise, and before you could say a word, he stepped between your legs, fitting himself there like he belonged, his body against yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Jun-ho," you started, your voice carrying both exasperation and fondness, your hands instinctively resting on his shoulders to steady yourself.

You fell silent when his eyes held yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch, his head tilting slightly, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away.

His hands rested gently on your thighs, fingers tracing lazy patterns over the fabric of your pajamas. You could feel his breath against your lips. He paused there, his smile deepening as his gaze lingered on your face.

“I was just thinking,” he murmured, his voice low with amusement. “Breakfast can wait.”

“Yeah?” you asked, raising an eyebrow,

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed.

Jun-ho tilted his head slightly, and he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours before angling his lips to meet yours.

It started soft and slow, his lips brushing over yours with an almost reverent tenderness. His hands slid up to rest on your hips, pulling you closer.

When he pulled back just enough to break the kiss, he let his lips trail along the curve of your jaw, then down to your neck, leaving sweet kisses along your skin. The sensation sent shivers down your spine.

“What are you doing?” you asked, though your voice had softened.

He didn’t stop, his lips pressing against the curve of your neck before he murmured against your skin. “Having breakfast.”

You smacked his shoulder lightly. “Alright, enough. Get off of me now.” you said half-heartedly.

He buried his face deeper into your neck, nuzzling into you like an overgrown puppy, letting out a noise of complaint as if your half-hearted smack had actually hurt.

You slipped your fingers under his chin, gently tilting his head up so he had no choice but to look at you. There was a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache in the best way.

“If you’re going to kiss me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Then you should do it right.”

You didn’t give Jun-ho a chance to respond. Closing the small distance between the two of you, you brought your lips to his in a kiss that made him melt against you. It was slow and deliberate, your fingers threading through his hair as you deepened the kiss, his hands went to rest on your waist as if he was anchoring himself to the moment.

Your fingers buried in his hair, tangling in the soft strands. When you gently tugged, his reaction was immediate. A soft sound escaped him, somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and you felt the shiver that ran through his body. It was such a raw, unguarded sound, and it made you smile. His lips faltered against yours for a fraction of a second, and then he responded with renewed fervor.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, his disheveled hair, his slightly kiss-swollen lips, and the faint blush on his face. His eyes searched yours with a vulnerability that made your heart warm.

after years of tunnel vision on tracking his brother down, untangling the rotten truth that’s left him sleepless— junho expected anything but this to be inho’s final statement. a baby girl, left with nothing but a player number and the bloodstained prize money.

was this inho’s child, trusted to her uncle to raise far away from her father’s true life? or perhaps this was a stranger’s child, saved by any surviving humanity left in the pits of his older brother’s heart? this poor girl, brought into the world amidst the circles of hell itself, and junho didn’t even know how to hold her properly.

he’d called his mother in a panic, stammering with the baby wailing in the background as if the building was on fire. though it was decades ago, his mother went through this twice, so it was muscle memory helping him out.

there wasn’t an explanation he could offer her though, since he hadn’t even wrapped his head around it himself. all he could say was that she wasn’t his, and she needed to be in the care of someone who knew what they were doing— even if the weight of her cradled in his arms had his heart beating like there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

you met junho in a grocery store: poking your head around the aisle when you heard panicked whispers and a baby blabbering. junho was cradling her awkwardly, squinting at the shelves like the baby formula was written in hieroglyphics— looking like he was two seconds from bursting into tears himself. you approached him with an amused smile and soft voice, offering a helping hand that he’s been forever grateful for since.

you lulled her with gentle rocks, demonstrating it to junho and then explaining how to pick out the right food. all the while, he can’t stop gazing at you in awe like you’ve got a golden halo above your head. he could not stop thanking you for your help— and one thing after another, you’re sat at a café after he insisted on treating you to a coffee (and his girl to a babyccino, per your suggestion).

junho’s extremely transparent with you, also to his own surprise. you figured as much that he was a single father who’d been raising the baby by google searches— but you’re taken aback when he admits that the child was bestowed upon him by his brother (“long story” he’d said) and not his own.

you can tell he’s been absolutely lost, dark circles under his eyes and unkempt hair. so when you offer yourself up to helping him navigate parenthood, he looks at you like he’s fallen in love on the spot. maybe he did.

and it’s not out of pity for him. it’s because you can see the exhaustion in his eyes— how he’s putting in all the effort to something he doesn’t even understand. and how he looks at the baby, like he’s terrified to fail her.

you become a regular at his apartment complex. at first, visits were just practical— feeding tips, changing diapers, practical how-to-parent tutorials. but the rhythm becomes something more natural, something without the need for a schedule.

you don’t pry: you don’t ask where she came from or why he has her when he needs this much guidance. but junho opens up anyways— slowly, one story at a time, like each one sheds a burden off his shoulders.

he doesn’t intend to fall for you, but it’s hard not to. you make things feel normal again. you don’t press about the past. you care for this baby like she may as well be yours. and he adores that about you.

the love sneaks up on him: during quiet dinners after you helped him rock her to sleep. through the way his stare lingers at your hands when you caress her. without realising he’s suddenly saying our girl in conversation with his mother. when she asked what you are to him, that’s when his mind had a blank.

somewhere between late-night movies after putting her to bed, that’s when it happens. a kiss on the couch. junho’s hand trembling slightly against your cheek. guilt’s written across his eyes, but so is relief. and you don’t pull away from him. you leaned in. (mindful not to wake her in the other room, of course)

junho is so painfully clueless, but he's all heart. he watches youtube essays on parenting like he’s preparing for a police exam. he keeps a list of her favourite foods in the notes app. neatly folds her laundry like it’s pure silk. you tease him, but it makes your heart ache how deeply he cares.

he always insists on being the one to rock her to sleep, even when it takes an hour. claims it “helps her trust him.” but you know it’s just as much for him, too. the first time she gets a fever, he doesn’t sleep. just sits beside her crib and watches her breathe, one of her little palms wrapped around a calloused finger.

he still carries the weight of everything he’s done. still wakes up some nights soaked in sweat, heart racing. but now he’s got you next to him. you don’t ask question, just hold him. massage his scalp while he shudders in your arms.

when his girl first blabbered an “appa”, he froze. stares at her like she split the sky open. then he excused himself to cry in the bathroom. with the life he was living before he met you both, he didn’t have the time to dream of starting a family. and now that he’s got one, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

🧸 mlist · taglist 〃 note. drinking for junhee tn

You first see him on a rainy Wednesday.

The wind’s mean, biting through your coat as you walk home from your shift at the community clinic. You nearly miss him at first—just a figure tucked under the overhang outside your apartment complex, hood pulled low, body curled around something wrapped in a strawberry blanket. You slow when the bundle shifts and lets out a soft whimper.

A baby. That’s a baby.

You stop walking.

He notices you watching and tenses. His hand instinctively moves toward the blanket, shielding the infant with his body. Not aggressively—but protectively, like someone who’s already decided he’d take the fall if anything went wrong.

You should walk away. You know better. But the baby starts crying, and your feet betray you.

“Is she okay?” you ask, voice soft.

He looks up. His face is pale, gaunt, and his eyes flick over you like he’s measuring every possible threat. He doesn’t answer.

You crouch. “I’m not going to take her from you. I just want to help.”

Another pause. Then, reluctantly, he shifts enough for you to see her—round cheeks, tiny fists waving, tears running silently. Her skin is clammy.

“She’s burning up,” you say. “I work at the clinic down the street. Let me help. Please.”

He looks down at the baby, jaw tight. Then back at you. Finally, he nods.

You don’t ask questions that night. You give him your kettle, a space heater, and some leftover soup. He won’t go to the hospital—makes that clear right away—but he lets you clean her up, bring her fever down, and hold her when she cries.

He doesn’t tell you their names.

But when he falls asleep sitting upright on your couch, the baby tucked against his chest, you notice something strange.

There’s a police badge tucked in his back pocket.

You don’t see him for five days.

Then, on the sixth morning, he knocks on your door.

“I’m sorry,” he says. His voice is rough, but sincere. “I panicked. She’s okay now, but she… cries less when you’re around.”

You open the door wider. “Then you should both come in.”

He hesitates. “Just for a few minutes.”

It becomes a pattern.

He never stays long—just long enough to warm the bottle, rest his eyes for ten minutes, let you check her over. He still hasn’t told you his name. You still haven’t asked. You don’t want to scare him off.

But the baby’s smile is brighter now. Her little body stronger. And he’s starting to look less like a man on the verge of collapse and more like someone learning how to breathe again.

One night, after she falls asleep in your arms, he finally speaks.

“I didn’t know her mother. Not really. She was… part of something. Something I thought I could stop.”

You glance up at him. His hands are clenched. His jaw, set.

“I couldn’t. Everyone died. Except the baby.”

You swallow. “So you took her.”

He nods. “Someone left her for me. Along with the money.”

“What money?”

He hesitates, then says, “Prize money. It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does.”

He shakes his head. “She didn’t ask for any of this. But if I walk away, she’ll have no one. And I don’t think I could live with that.”

You look at him—really look. He’s not just tired. He’s devastated. Grieving something too big to carry alone.

So you say, “You’re not walking away. You’re here. And that matters.”

He nods once, quietly.

And when you reach out to cover his hand with yours, he doesn’t pull away.

Weeks pass.

You learn his name is Jun-ho.

You learn the baby’s name is Hana. He gave it to her.

“She needed something good,” he says one morning, gently bouncing her in your living room. “So I gave her a name that means flower. Even if the rest of the world is ash.”

You don’t ask more questions about the Games, the money, the people he lost. Not yet. Not unless he brings it up.

But you notice the scar one afternoon while he’s changing his shirt—right at the curve of his shoulder. It’s jagged and raised, unmistakably a bullet wound. He moves quickly, tugging the fabric back over it before you can say anything, brushing off your worried look with a half-muttered, “Old injury.”

You don’t press. But your heart sinks all the same.

Instead, you focus on how far he’s come. You watch the way he holds Hana now—without hesitation. He starts humming to her when she fusses. He learns how to swaddle, how to sterilize bottles, how to make her giggle.

He still won’t sleep unless you’re close. On the nights you offer your bed, he stays on the couch—but closer and closer to your room. Until, one night, you wake to find him curled in the armchair beside you, Hana asleep in his lap, your name whispered in his sleep.

One evening, while she naps, he finally talks.

“People think heroes look like me,” he says quietly. “Gun, badge, silent stare. But they never see the part where you lose people. Where you fail.”

You don’t interrupt.

“I thought I was doing the right thing. I tried to stop it. But all I did was expose something no one wants to believe exists. Now there’s no trial, no justice. Just silence. And her.”

You take his hand. “Maybe she’s the justice.”

He looks at you then, something raw in his eyes.

And then he kisses you.

It’s tentative—more question than declaration. When he pulls back, you chase his mouth with yours.

You don’t rush things. But from that night on, your home becomes the home.

For all three of you.

Hana says your name before she says “appa.” Jun-ho pretends not to be offended.

But when she falls and cries, she runs to him first.

“She’s a traitor,” you joke.

“She knows who keeps her fed.”

He kisses your temple when he says it. And your stomach flips like it always does now.

One day, a man in a dark coat shows up outside your building. Doesn’t come in, doesn’t say anything. Just watches.

You spot him first.

Jun-ho sees the fear in your eyes before you even speak.

He doesn’t panic—but he acts. Pulls you inside. Locks the door. Checks the windows.

You realize then that he’s never stopped running. That maybe he never will.

He holds you that night like it could be the last time.

But morning comes, and the man is gone. No note. No message.

Just a reminder: the world doesn’t forget.

You ask him if he wants to leave.

“No,” he says. “Not unless you come with me.”

You do.

You move out of the city. A small place by the water.

Jun-ho plants flowers outside, even though he’s never gardened before. He tells Hana they’re all named after people he’s lost. That way, something beautiful can grow from the pain.

You get a job at a local clinic. He works construction under a different name, but still carries the badge—kept safe in a box beside Hana’s baby shoes.

You’re never rich. You’re never totally safe.

But you’re loved.

Hana grows up calling you both home.

And sometimes, when Jun-ho thinks you’re asleep, he whispers, “Thank you for saving us.”