#everwhovian

[yellowwwcrayon]

Since I’m trapped on the train and struggling not to pass out, I figured it’s the perfect time for a terms and conditions AU update lmao

I probably should’ve written smut (apparently that’s my pattern now 😭)... what’s the saying? "once is an incident, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern" anyway… Seok-woo's menace mode was stronger 🤣

Seok-woo sat sprawled in the black leather armchair behind In-ho’s desk, one leg thrown casually over the other, a tumbler of whiskey in hand. The decanter on the sideboard was already half-empty, glass catching the light in amber streaks.

He raised the drink in mock salute, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Welcome home.”

In-ho reached up, fingers finding the edges of the mask. The weight of it had been suffocating since the elevator. He unlatched it with a click, lifted it away, and set it down on the corner of the desk. Cool air hit his face, but it did nothing for the heat crawling under his skin.

In-ho’s glare landed sharp across the room, but it slid right off. Seok-woo smirked, slow and infuriating, as if he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“Relax,” Seok-woo drawled, settling deeper into the armchair. “I’m just making myself comfortable. After all, I did win the bet.”

In-ho’s jaw tightened. He didn’t even remember agreeing to a bet... he’d been too busy, too distracted, too caught up in… He cut the thought short before it reached Gi-hun. He didn’t need that face in his head now. Not here.

He didn’t answer. Just rolled his eyes and moved past, the heavy sweep of his coat brushing against the desk.

That, of course, only fed Seok-woo’s grin. “Oh, come on. Don’t sulk. You look like you’re about to scold me.” He leaned back in the chair, stretching out like a cat, tilting his head with studied nonchalance. “If you keep glaring at me like that, I might think you’re begging to punish me.”

The headache pressed tighter behind In-ho’s temples. He pinched the bridge of his nose, steadying his breath.

Seok-woo didn’t stop. “Or maybe –” his smirk sharpened, eyes catching on the way In-ho’s shoulders had stiffened “– since I won, should I be the one doing the punishing? Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The words dripped with suggestion, calculated to get under his skin.

The glass clinked as Seok-woo tipped the last of the whiskey down his throat. He exhaled hard through his teeth, theatrically satisfied, and set the tumbler on the desk with a soft thud. “Mmm. Not bad. Your stash always does the trick.”

In-ho’s patience frayed. “You’re insufferable,” he snapped, the word biting out before he could smooth it flat.

[...]

Before In-ho could answer, Seok-woo leaned sideways in the chair, plucking a thin stack of folders from the desk. He flicked them once, paper edges catching the light, then waved them carelessly in the air. “Some manager shoved these at me earlier. Player files or whatever. Thought you’d like to bury yourself in work instead of me.” His tone dripped boredom, like the whole thing was beneath him.

He slouched deeper into the chair, his pout returning as quick as the smirk had left. “Honestly, if you’re too uptight to enjoy yourself, maybe I’ll go find someone else. Plenty of men and women here who wouldn’t mind a little attention during the preparations.” His eyes lingered, gleaming with mischief. “Probably more fun than you anyway.”

In-ho’s jaw worked. He drew in a breath, sharp and steady, pinning the irritation back into place before it could spill. “Scram,” he said, low, clipped.

Seok-woo only winked at him, then rose from the chair with the loose grace of someone who had all the time in the world. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Honestly, why is Seok-woo like this… and why do I adore him for it 🤣 he definitely knows exactly how to get under In-ho’s skin 😂

Okay, that's it though! Maybe I’ll have something else cooked up on my ride back home 👀

YOU ARE BACK! SINGLEHANDEDLY CURING MY DEPRESSION ON A FRIDAY WORKDAY. SCREAMING WITH JOY.

Dusting off other anon's pic of this man, was he sitting like this? I feel like this is what I see in my mind's eye. cunty man. I love the teasing and Inho's "scram." He's like a cat, always up in everyone's business, and tripping people up by getting in between their legs and causing chaos wherever he goes.

Omg I have so many questions, but I'll go and pick your brain in the discord hehe. Thank you for feeding us with your amazing writing! And yay, no Junho exploded in the making of this fic.

[crazyhappycat]

Junho: my first school prom is tomorrow and I don’t have a date!

Inho: calm don, you’ll be fine. Just ask a kind and beautiful girl to go with you

Junho:

Junho: Yuna, want to go to prom with me?

Inho: that’s not how it work--

Yuna: Of course, Junho!

[associate-mutuals-with-stuff]

I associate @everwhovian with the hwang brothers

anon associates @everwhovian with the hwang brothers!

[yellowwwcrayon]

Hmm.... maybe I should give a little more 👀 I did force you to even consider writing this seagull inhun au by threatening to withhold terms and conditions

I keep avoiding the smut part of it... so here is a little moment in the elevator. In-ho is just removing his tie and I am already like WHAT IS HAPPENING 💀

In-ho stood at the front of the elevator, eyes forward, posture easy. Relaxed but not loose. A practiced kind of calm. He loosened his tie with one hand and tugged it down, the knot slipping slow over his throat. The collar parted with it, sharp lines going slack, revealing a triangle of skin beneath the button-down – pale, clean, lined faintly with the edge of his clavicle.

He didn’t think anything of it.

But the man noticed.

In-ho caught the glance from the corner of his eye: a flick of movement, subtle, then sharp, like something had hooked the man’s gaze and reeled it in. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and his eyes lingered a beat too long on that stretch of skin before darting away.

In-ho didn’t comment.

But he chuckled. Quiet. Dry. More breath than voice.

The sound filled the elevator like smoke.

He didn’t need to look to see the result.

The man flushed instantly – red blooming again across the tops of his cheeks, climbing over his ears. His hands stilled. His knees bent slightly, like he’d tried to adjust his stance and forgot how to be casual halfway through. His whole body went still with a kind of startled alertness.

In-ho smiled to himself, a breathless, private thing.

This was going to be interesting.

Ugh they need to exchange names...

Do I make In-ho lie and say that his name is Young-il or should In-ho be completely unbothered and just give out his real name? Maybe Gi-hun just blurts out his name and then starts rambling again and In-ho shuts him up by telling him own name and then In-ho notices that fuck he gave him his real name but there is no going back now and it's after midnight and I'm tired so this whole paragraph is a mess I'm so sorry 😭💀

Ohhh I vote telling him his real name, hehe. That little man needs to hear his real name coming out of that mouth in bed. He would get jealous of a secret identity. Oh Gihun, that poor mess, he's so into him I'm gonna scream. my precious bbg... *on the edge of my tiny stool*

[yellowwwcrayon]

I am so sorry about work! I hope this will cheer you up! 🥺

“Come here.”

Gi-hun blinked, thrown by the command even though he should’ve expected it. He moved too fast, tripping slightly over his own feet in his eagerness to obey, his socks dragging against the laminate with the awkward scuff of someone who didn’t know how to walk attractive, let alone sit attractive.

He landed beside In-ho with a soft, graceless thud.

Too close, almost. Their thighs brushed. Gi-hun didn’t lean away.

In-ho turned his head – slowly, deliberately – and looked up at him.

Up close, he could see every inch of nervous heat still clinging to the man’s face. The flush that had never faded. The too-bright eyes. The sheepish curve of his mouth as he half-laughed at himself, fingers already moving to tug at his collar like it was suddenly too tight.

In-ho rolled his eyes. Quietly. The gesture more reflex than insult. And still, even through the faintest irritation, there was something almost… fond.

This man was a disaster.

But he was here.

And he had agreed.

In-ho reached out, one hand rising to rest lightly against Gi-hun’s jaw – just the edge of his fingers, just enough to tilt his face downward, guide him closer.

“Stop thinking,” he said softly.

And before Gi-hun could make some terrible joke or fluster himself out of the moment, In-ho leaned in and kissed him.

I am already cringing into the next dimension... it's so awkward 🤣 let's see how long I can prolong the freaky stuff 👀 (there is a reason why I spent the last days making edits 🙈😂)

this is delicious 😭 I love it so much

you cringing is for a good cause <3 Pervy Inhoe approves.

[yellowwwcrayon]

Your job situation sounds awful! Let me cheer ya up with a tiny terms and conditions AU update!

So here is a snipped to chapter 3! Gi-hun starts rambling when he's nervous 👀

In-ho’s mouth curled – just slightly. Barely a shift at the corner of his lips.

“Do you always talk this much?” he asked finally, voice low and dry.

The footsteps behind him stuttered. “Only when I’m nervous.”

“You’re nervous?”

A pause.

“…A little.”

“Hm.” In-ho didn’t stop walking. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You’re not really giving me a lot to work with, y’know?” the man said, voice pitching higher now – flustered, defensive. “You’re just – walking. Not saying anything. In that coat. Like you’re either going to… to sleep with me or… strangle me behind a dumpster.”

In-ho raised an eyebrow at that.

He stopped at a red light, tilted his head just slightly, and glanced back.

“I haven’t ruled either out,” he said smoothly.

The man made a noise – somewhere between a laugh and a wheeze.

“Great. That’s – that’s really comforting.”

They stood in silence for a moment. Then, In-ho let the man fill the air behind him with rambling fragments and nervous jokes, each one a window cracked open just enough to let the heat of discomfort leak out. The rhythm was familiar. Desperation in monologue form.

In-ho knew the type.

Give them enough silence, and they’d fill it with confession.

And sure enough –

“You know, I’ve never actually done this before,” the man said, voice dipping slightly as if realizing too late that this part probably shouldn’t be said aloud. “Like – paid with my body. Or anything like that. Not that I… not that I think that’s… I mean, I’m not judging. Just saying. This is new.”

In-ho didn’t slow his pace, but one brow twitched – just slightly, the only crack in an otherwise expressionless mask. He didn’t turn around again, didn’t acknowledge the absurdity aloud, but he catalogued it. Another detail. Another strange, noisy fragment from a man who didn’t know when to stop talking.

“I mean – I’ve had offers before. People with money. People who thought maybe if they waved enough cash in my face, I’d…” He trailed off. “Well. Anyway. This is different. You’re different.”

Not sure yet if I like the conversation 😭 also I am falling asleep typing this message... so you can keep then.

OMG, Gihun sweet innocent baby girl, you have to shut up. He's gonna take even more advantage if you keep giving out information unprompted.

"Oh, I'm a butt virgin" *blush*

"People have propositioned me before, with money, but I've only agreed to doing it with you..." *more blushing*

Inho, you better not strangle that beautiful himbo behind a dumpster or I will come for your short ass. I need him to kind of fall in love halfway through the hooking up. 😭

[yellowwwcrayon]

What's this? Another snippet of terms and conditions AU? 👀

This time from chapter 2 hehe

In-ho has met Gi-hun and now they're playing ddakji. And we have a lovely misunderstanding ^^ and also some Hwang brothers content!

Instead, he reached for the red tile.

The weight of it in his hand felt familiar. Balanced. Comfortable in a way nothing else had felt in weeks.

He thought of Jun-ho.

The way his little brother used to sit cross-legged on the living room floor, face screwed up in determination, tongue sticking out just slightly at the corner of his mouth as he lined up his throw. They’d folded dozens of those tiles together – red and blue and green, all creased at precise angles, the paper softened from too many games. In-ho had taught him how to aim for the edges. How to angle the corner, hit low and sharp. He’d let him win, more often than not, feigning surprise when the tile flipped.

Back then, the game had been about joy. Skill. Laughing too loud and throwing rematches until someone’s wrist gave out.

Now?

It was about power.

About reading posture, estimating desperation, weaponizing every movement like a contract disguised in a game.

There were no rematches here.

No laughter.

Just the cold rhythm of leverage and the slap of consequences.

In-ho adjusted his stance with muscle memory alone. No flourish. No hesitation. He brought the tile down with practiced force – direct, precise, final.

The impact rang sharp against the platform tile. The man’s blue tile flipped clean over.

Perfect.

He didn’t smirk and he also didn’t taunt. He just met the man’s eyes, steady and unreadable.

“Well,” he said, his voice like a quiet verdict. “What’s wrong?”

The man blinked, then gave a sheepish little shrug, the gesture all tired apology and performative charm. “So… the thing is…”

In-ho cut in before he could finish. “How about you use your body to pay?”

He didn’t mean anything by it.

It was just the standard line. The one every recruiter used when someone inevitably couldn’t cough up the cash. Seok-woo had coined it – smirking, lazy, annoyingly effective – and it had slipped into the script so cleanly that In-ho barely noticed when it came out of his mouth. It was practical. Efficient. Payment, delivered physically. One slap per round.

But the man didn’t respond the way he was supposed to.

He went still.

Not with the usual wariness, not even disbelief – but something deeper. Something quieter. Like a wire had tripped somewhere inside him and now the signal had changed.

His expression faltered, cracked, then rearranged itself in real time – eyes slightly wide, breath hitching just enough to catch. A flush began to bloom across his throat, crawling up the line of his neck like heat flushing under the skin. Not embarrassment. Not really.

The man had frozen.

Not in confusion. Not exactly. More like… something else. His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed. The flush rising up from the collar of his jacket, blooming across his throat like heat. He opened his mouth, closed it again. And then –

He looked at In-ho.

Really looked. Eyes dragging over his face, lingering on his mouth, then – lower. A slow flick of the eyes down his chest. His coat. His waist. Lingering.

And just like that, it clicked.

Oh.

Oh, he thinks –

It wasn’t a slap he was picturing.

It wasn’t pain he was bracing for.

It was something else entirely.

In-ho felt the realization settle cold and hot all at once in the pit of his stomach. For a moment, he said nothing. Just observed – silent and still – while the man’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, quick and instinctive, like even he didn’t realize he’d done it.

The air between them thickened.

God help him. Of course someone like this – beaten, broke, bitter – would hear “your body” and assume. He was probably used to being handled like collateral. Probably thought this was just another variation on a theme.

Another transaction where he was the product.

In-ho felt the correction rise in his throat. He opened his mouth. A breath, a thought, the beginning of a clarification forming on the tip of his tongue. He was going to explain. He was going to say: I meant slapping. That’s all. A correction, simple and harmless.

But before he could –

“Okay,” the man said quickly, voice rough at the edges. “Fine.”

In-ho blinked.

“…Fine?” he echoed.

The man nodded. Once. Tight. He wasn’t looking at In-ho’s eyes anymore. His gaze hovered somewhere lower – cheeks still faintly flushed, fingers twitching like he was trying not to clench them.

He adjusted his posture, like he was trying to make himself look ready. Like he didn’t want to look like he was bracing for contact – but couldn’t help it.

“Let’s do it,” he said, softer now. Almost… breathy.

And In-ho – cold, calculating, half-amused – watched the entire thing unfold like a scene he hadn’t written, and found himself wondering: What would happen if he didn’t clarify? What would happen if he let it linger? Just a little longer. Just enough to see how far the man’s imagination would go. Just enough to see if that flush deepened the next time he lost.

This is fun 👀

I am SAT. This is so good, poor baby Gihun. I'm so curious was was going on in his head when he agreed to it lol. Did he find Inho attractive? Has he done this before? I want to swaddle him in blankets, that poor little guy.

I cannot wait to read the whole thing, but these little sneak peeks slipped into my inbox are so addictive. I am snacking. I am rolling around in how good this is :)

and onto the next snippet! hehe

[yellowwwcrayon]

I don't have much to offer but tbh that's also kinda your fault cause you kept distracting me with the seagulls inhun au 🤣

But... as promised!! A little sneak peek of terms and conditions au 👀

Room 457.

The key was plastic and chipped at the edge. In-ho tucked it into his palm and turned back toward the elevator.

But before he took a step, he paused. Looked back.

The man stood in the same spot just past the door – shoulders stiff, mouth parted, blinking like he was trying to process the fact that he’d actually walked in here. The pink light from outside still clung to the curve of his jaw, the side of his neck, where a faint pulse fluttered like a warning.

In-ho watched him for a long moment. Let the silence stretch between them.

Then he spoke. “This is your out.”

The man blinked.

In-ho tilted his head, gaze fixed and unreadable. “Once we go upstairs, I’m going to take your silence for what it is. A green light. I won’t stop to double-check every minute. I won’t drag it out or repeat myself. If this isn’t what you want – now’s your chance to leave.”

The man’s eyes went wide. The flush was already back – crawling up his neck like heat drawn to shame. He swallowed. Shuffled slightly in place. His fingers twisted at the hem of his jacket, and for a second he looked like he might speak.

But he didn’t. He just nodded. Once. Small. Shaky.

In-ho narrowed his eyes. “That’s not enough,” he said softly. “Use your words.”

The man hesitated. Then – quiet, almost breathless – he said, “Yes.”

In-ho stared at him a moment longer. Took in the color blooming across his cheeks, the way his lashes fluttered as he tried not to look too directly at him. His tongue darted out again, wetting dry lips. His whole body tensed, like he was waiting for something to hit him – and ready to take it.

In-ho turned toward the elevator.

And the man followed.

I am in love with this. The tension is building. Gihun is a cute miserable wet puppy. omg, I need to squeeze his cheeks. Don't follow that creepy man (ok, go on, follow him so I can see the rest hehe).