#her husband would be del
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onlydolia · 23 days ago
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Liz and Gayle from animal crossing.
Though the snow was not any reptile’s favorite, Liz the alligator thought it would be best to live in Animal Forest, away from the politics and chaos of their homeland.
She and her family hated wearing tail sleeves, but as the rivers froze and the trees weighed with snow, they decided maybe it was not such a silly fashion after all. Better to be sleeved than to be numbed, dragging behind them in the snow.
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cliffburton · 1 year ago
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i think i have complained about this before but my dad's wife calls him "dad" in third person more than me and it's annoying bordering on gross to me
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voyter · 2 months ago
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DEVOTION — jeon jungkook.
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genre. a song of ice and fire au. 103 AC. smut. knight!jungkook. queen!reader.
your knight is completely devoted to you, and while it’s his duty, you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more behind his unwavering loyalty.
word count. 17.1k words (FUCK i am so sorry) warnings. this fic might be a bit confusing if you havent watched game of thrones or house of the dragon !!! misogyny. gender dynamics. seokjin and namjoon cameo hehe. forced / arranged marriage. over protective jungkook <3. cute convo between oc and her husband. violence. mentions of blood and murder. SO MUCH FUCKING TENSION. smut. two sex scenes !! dry humping. oral (male!receiving). unprotected sex (this universe takes place thousands of years ago and condoms didnt exist yet give me a break). bath sex. they almost get caught OOP. cheating (but both parties are consenting and they both openly do it to each other but they dont love each other romantically so its okay i guess) ???? jungkook literally worships her oh im sick i need him.
ana's notes. this fic ended up being much longer than i anticipated but oh my gosh i literally could NOT STOP WRITING !!! this is the longest fic ive ever written hello. this is inspired by alicent and coles relationship in season 2. sorry i hate them but this trope ??? OUUU TOO GOOD. so you know i got inspired. anyways, i love this one so much, so please let me know your thoughts <3. as always, keep your comments positive or say nothing at all xx
listening to. blue jeans by lana del rey / middle of the night by elley duhé / flawless by the neighbourhood
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part of the based off film series. this one shot is based off house of the dragon.
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You had always hated the idea of marrying someone you didn’t love, but you knew that marriage was not a choice — it was an obligation woven into the fabric of your destiny. Though reluctance filled you at first, you gradually came to terms with your duty, accepting the role thrust upon you with a measure of peace.
House Emberwyn ruled the Seven Kingdoms, making them the most powerful house of all. Your father had forged a deep bond with King Aelyx, the two men connected by the shared grief of losing their wives. Beyond their friendship, your father was adamant that uniting your houses through marriage was crucial. He envisioned a future where the intertwining of two powerful, wealthy legacies would forge an unbreakable realm.
Atticus, the son of King Aelyx, was only a year older than you — making him a suitable match. Like you, he was reluctant to marry, but he, too, understood the importance of duty. He wanted nothing more than to make his father proud, even if it meant sacrificing personal desire.
As the sole heirs of your respective houses, the pressure to produce children was immediate. The act of intimacy with Atticus was never one of passion or love; it was merely another duty. The first time was uncomfortable, almost unbearable, but over time, you learned to tolerate it. This was your life now, dictated by duty rather than desire.
Since your marriage, you have been blessed with three children. Ares, your eldest and only son, was conceived during your bedding ceremony. Now a boy of one and ten, he is wise beyond his years, his sharp mind driven by a deep love for books and knowledge. Celeste, your first daughter, is nine years old — a whirlwind of wild, unrestrained energy that seems impossible to contain. Already, she’s been eagerly awaiting the day she can take to the skies on dragonback, her spirit far older than her years. Then there is Luna, your youngest and newest addition to the family, a radiant little soul who brings warmth and light into every corner of your life. She is the calm of the storm, a small but powerful source of joy that never fails to lift your spirits, no matter how heavy the burdens of the day.
Atticus is a good father, never neglecting his children. He is present in their lives, providing for them with steadfast love and care. As a husband, he is kind and dutiful. Yet, despite all his virtues, he is not the love of your life.
The two of you had come to an agreement early in your marriage: you were free to seek pleasure where you wished, as long as heirs were made with each other. It was a compromise, one that allowed you both to navigate the confines of your duty while maintaining some semblance of personal freedom.
Tragedy struck shortly after Celeste’s birth when King Aelyx succumbed to an unknown illness. The crown passed to Atticus, and with it came the immense burden of ruling the Seven Kingdoms.
With Atticus as king, you became Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, unlike your husband, you did not feel the same pressure. Your days were mostly spent within the confines of your chambers, where the laughter and antics of your children filled your life with light and purpose. Despite never having known your own mother — she had died giving birth to you — you felt as though motherhood had always been your calling.
While you wouldn’t trade your life for anything in the world, motherhood came with its challenges. Ares and Celeste were at the age where they bickered endlessly over the smallest of things — whether it was toys, attention, or simply to see who could get on your nerves first. Their constant squabbles were a source of frustration, and yet you knew it was a phase they would eventually outgrow. Luna, on the other hand, still so small and newly born, could not seem to stop crying. Her wails often filled the castle, and while the maids were always close by, ready to assist, you never allowed them to. You wanted your daughter to find comfort in your arms, not anyone else’s.
There were days when calming her down felt like a losing battle, the hours stretching into what felt like an eternity. But when you finally succeeded, when her cries quieted and her tiny form melted into sleep, it filled you with a sense of accomplishment. It was a small victory in a life full of larger, weightier battles.
Fortunately, today was one of the easier days. Luna wasn’t feeling particularly fussy, and after a few gentle rocks and soft pats on her back, she fell asleep in your arms without much protest. Relief washed over you as you gazed down at her peaceful face, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The soft warmth of her against you, the quiet of the room, made you feel like, for a moment, everything was right.
“Your Grace?”
A voice interrupted your quiet reverie, but you didn’t turn. Your eyes remained fixed on Luna, unwilling to break the fragile serenity of the moment. You hummed in response, acknowledging the speaker but unable to tear your gaze from your sleeping daughter.
“Your presence is wanted, though not required, Your Grace.”
The words draw you from your thoughts, and with a soft sigh, you finally turn to face the speaker. It’s the Lord Commander, standing tall and imposing, his armor catching the dim light filtering through the windows.
“What for?” you ask, your voice calm but laced with curiosity.
“The Kingsguard posting,” he replies, his tone formal, as always. “It’s been suggested that you select who will guard the Red Keep.”
You consider his words, your gaze drifting back to Luna, still fast asleep in your arms. The thought of placing your trust in someone else, of relying on others to protect what matters most, brings a weight to your chest. As a mother, your first instinct is always to shield your children. You would want nothing more than for them to roam the castle freely, knowing they were surrounded by those you trusted — those you handpicked.
“I suppose,” you murmur.
After carefully setting Luna in her crib, you linger for a moment, brushing a tender hand over her soft cheek. Ensuring the maids were nearby to watch over her, you quietly slip from the nursery and follow the Lord Commander through the castle's stone corridors. Your thoughts remain on Luna for a heartbeat longer before shifting to the matter at hand — choosing the knights who would guard your family, your children.
You arrive at the balcony overlooking the courtyard, where a line of knights stands at attention, their armor gleaming in the afternoon sun. The air is crisp, the tension palpable as each knight awaits his turn to be presented.
The Lord Commander steps forward, his voice ringing with authority. "Step forward, Ser Kim Namjoon."
The knight moves with a quiet confidence, offering you a small, almost shy smile. Dimples crease his cheeks, and despite the serious nature of the proceedings, you find yourself smiling back, charmed by the warmth in his expression.
"Ser Namjoon has proved strong and steady in both the tourney lists and in service beyond," the Lord Commander begins. "While traveling through the Kingswood on the way to King’s Landing, Ser Namjoon recently brought a would-be poacher to justice."
You listen carefully, considering the man before you. His loyalty and steadiness are clear, and his recent actions speak of a knight who serves with honor. Still, your mind drifts to a darker, more urgent thought — combat. The Red Keep, and more importantly, your children, needed knights who were not only honorable but battle hardened. In these uncertain times, loyalty alone would not be enough. 
"Ser Namjoon," you say, your voice polite yet measured. "We thank you for your loyal service to the Crown."
He bows deeply before stepping back into line, and you offer him a nod in return, though your thoughts continue to circle around the same question — how many of these knights had seen true combat?
The next knight steps forward, and your gaze narrows as you take him in.
"Ser Kim Seokjin," the Lord Commander announces.
This knight is taller, leaner than Namjoon. He holds himself with a quiet grace, his expression serious, but there's a spark of something beneath the surface — determination perhaps, or ambition.
"Winner of the melee at Cider Hall," the Lord Commander continues. "He was the last mounted of three and twenty knights. Ser Seokjin was knighted at eight and ten."
You raise an eyebrow, impressed by his accomplishments. Yet, your thoughts linger on something more pressing, more crucial to the protection of your family.
"Do any of these knights have combat experience?" you ask, your tone sharper now. "Beyond capturing poachers and winning tourneys?"
The Lord Commander nods solemnly, signaling the next candidate.
“Ser Jeon Jungkook.”
As the name is called, a young knight steps forward, noticeably younger than the others who had come before him. Yet, despite his youth, he carries himself with an air of quiet confidence, his steps measured and purposeful. Strands of raven hair fall loosely across his forehead, framing a face that, while youthful, is sharp with focus. His dark eyes meet yours with a steady gaze, neither too bold nor deferent — he stands unshaken by the weight of the moment.
He looks about your age, perhaps even younger, and though he lacks the grizzled scars of a seasoned warrior, something about him immediately draws your attention. There's a natural grace in the way he moves, his armor fitting him perfectly as if he was born to wear it. He’s quite handsome, a fact you can’t help but notice as he stands before you, the light of the setting sun casting a faint glow over his features.
"Tell me, Ser Jungkook," you say, breaking the silence, "have you seen real combat?"
He doesn’t falter, his voice steady as he speaks. "I have, Your Grace. I fought for a year as a foot soldier against the Dornish incursions. I was knighted after we razed two of the watchtowers along the Boneway.”
There is no hesitation in his tone, no embellishment. The quiet intensity of his words, the weight of lived experience behind them, strikes you deeply. His demeanor isn't that of a man seeking glory but of one who has already faced the fire and come out stronger for it. In that moment, your decision feels clear.
“It’s settled.” Your lips curve into a smile, one of certainty and satisfaction. “I choose Ser Jungkook.”
The Lord Commander stiffens slightly, his jaw tensing as though weighing whether to speak. Before you can take a step back toward your chambers, his voice interrupts, filled with respectful hesitation. "Perhaps we shouldn’t be too hasty, Your Grace. There is no doubt Ser Jungkook is a fine warrior, but Ser Namjoon and Ser Seokjin are from houses that are important allies of the Crown."
You turn slowly, your expression cool but firm. The politicking of the court — alliances, the endless exchange of favors and titles — was something you understood all too well. Yet, this was not a matter of alliances. This was the safety of your family, the future of your children. And no amount of courtly maneuvering could change that.
“Those men are tourney knights,” you say, your voice laced with a sharp edge. “My children should be defended by a man who’s known real combat. Should they not?”
The Lord Commander pauses, his gaze flickering between the knights and your unwavering stance. He gives a short bow, conceding. “Of course, Your Grace.”
You nod once, satisfied. “Very well, then,” you say, a smile returning to your face, though this time with a sense of finality. “I expect you to plan Ser Jungkook’s investiture.”
There’s a flicker of something in the Lord Commander’s eyes — perhaps begrudging respect or recognition of your authority in this matter. He bows once more before stepping aside. “As you wish, Your Grace. I will see to it.”
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As the days passed, it became clear that your decision to appoint Ser Jungkook was more than justified.
Jungkook proved himself an unwavering presence in the lives of your children. He guarded Ares and Celeste like a loyal hound, always at their side, his dark eyes constantly scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger. Wherever they went — whether it was the training yard where Ares spent hours practicing swordplay or the garden where Celeste attempted to name every flower — Jungkook followed, his sight never leaving them.
In the corridors of the Red Keep, you would often catch glimpses of him, stationed at the door to whatever chamber Ares and Celeste had wandered into, standing with that same quiet intensity that first caught your attention. He never intruded upon their activities, never interfered with their games, but his presence was felt all the same. He was a silent sentinel, ensuring that no one entered or exited a room without his knowledge.
Even the servants and court members began to take note, offering respectful nods as they passed him. There was a certain respect that began to build around Jungkook, not just as a knight, but as a protector of the royal family — of your family.
Before Ser Jungkook’s arrival, the Red Keep had always felt secure. Its towering walls and seasoned guards provided a fortress of safety, a place where danger rarely crossed your mind. Yet, somehow, with Jungkook’s arrival, there was a new, tangible sense of protection. His presence, quiet yet vigilant, added an extra layer of assurance, as if the very air had shifted, growing thicker with safety, steadier with his watchful eye. He didn’t need to speak or make grand gestures; just knowing he was there, standing mere feet away from you, made the castle feel more fortified than it ever had before.
In many ways, he made you feel like that too — protected, even in the smallest, unspoken ways.
The Small Council was always the most grueling part of your day. Despite your title as Queen, you found yourself constantly sidelined, your voice often drowned out by the men who dominated the discussions. You had grown accustomed to their subtle condescension — the way they’d nod and pretend to listen, only to carry on as if your words had never been spoken. You’d learned to expect it, but the sting of dismissal never faded entirely.
And today was no different.
As you took your seat, Jungkook stood nearby, ever the silent sentinel. He’d grown adept at reading you, his dark eyes keenly observing the smallest shift in your demeanor. He noticed how, at first, you entered the room with a composed grace, ready to engage in the matters at hand. But as the meeting dragged on, frustration began to creep in, visible in the slight tightening of your jaw each time a man at the table spoke over you or dismissed your suggestions with a polite but infuriating nod.
Jungkook’s eyes followed the subtle changes — the way your posture stiffened, the soft sigh you tried to suppress, and then, finally, the way boredom started to settle in as you reached for the small stone ball on the table, rolling it between your fingers absentmindedly. He knew you were doing your best to remain patient, but the disrespect weighed heavily in the room.
His hand instinctively twitched at his side, a protective instinct rising within him as he stood there watching. He was ready to intervene if the moment called for it, though he knew better than to step in unless absolutely necessary. Still, his silent support was palpable, a reassuring presence amidst the clamor of men who failed to see the strength in the woman before them.
“Perhaps we should discuss Driftmark, Your Grace,” the Maester began, his voice too casual for the gravity of the subject. He directed his attention toward your husband, but the mention of Driftmark instantly drew you in, pulling you from your growing boredom. You straightened in your seat, the defensiveness in your posture clear.
“What of it?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, the raw emotion behind it hard to suppress. Driftmark wasn’t just a topic for idle conversation — it was family. Personal. The loss of the Lord of the Tides, your cousin’s husband, had been a blow that still lingered, and the aftermath of it weighed heavily on your heart.
He had been more than just family; he had adored your children as if they were his own, even naming your daughter, Celeste, as his heir. It was an honor, though one with its own set of complications. With Ares set to inherit the Iron Throne, Celeste was to inherit Driftmark. Your cousin, devastated by the loss of her husband and without heirs of her own, was to hold the seat in her stead until Celeste came of age.
The Maester’s eyes flickered between you and your husband, clearly aware of the tension in the room but too entrenched in his own position to approach the subject delicately. He cleared his throat, then spoke with a tone that bordered on patronizing. “It’s... a delicate matter, Your Grace. There are those who believe the succession should be reconsidered, given your daughter’s age. Furthermore, some question the wisdom of naming a girl as heir to such a powerful seat.”
Your stomach tightened, fury simmering beneath the surface. A girl. As if Celeste’s age or gender diminished her worth, her potential. You could feel the disdain, not just for your daughter, but for the very idea of a woman wielding such power.
You held the Maester’s gaze, your voice sharp with barely concealed fury. “And do you agree with them?”
The chamber seemed to freeze in that moment, the weight of your words pressing down on everyone in the room. All eyes flickered nervously between you and the Maester, the tension palpable as if even the air had thickened, making it harder to breathe. Everyone braced themselves for the confrontation that was surely coming.
The Maester, sensing the chance to finally reveal his true thoughts, straightened in his seat, his chest puffing out as arrogance replaced caution. He no longer glanced toward your husband for approval; instead, his focus was solely on you, his eyes glinting with condescension.
“A woman on the Driftwood Throne, Your Grace?” he repeated, his voice dripping with condescension. “Forgive my candor, but Driftmark is not some soft and delicate estate. It is a seat of warriors, sailors, men of the sea and battle. Its history is steeped in strength and tradition. To put a mere girl — no matter her bloodline — on that chair is folly, plain and simple. A woman’s place is in the home, tending to hearth and children, not commanding fleets or sitting in council chambers. The late Lord has a brother who would make a fine new Lord, more befitting the legacy.”
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, your hands tightening into fists. “His brother has no desire for rule!” you shot back, your temper dangerously close to boiling over. “Celeste is his rightful heir. It was his wish, and it will not be questioned!”
The Maester, unfazed, continues. “Your Grace… with all due respect, your daughter is but a child. A girl of her age should be concerned with dolls and dresses, not the governance of a seat as vital as Driftmark. There are many in the realm who would argue that Driftmark deserves a stronger hand. A male heir, one capable of steering the course of the future, as tradition demands. Perhaps it is time to reconsider your decision, before it’s too late. Before the realm begins to question not only Driftmark’s future, but the Queen’s judgment as well.”
The insult hung in the air like a storm cloud, casting a heavy, suffocating tension over the room. The audacity — the sheer gall of the Maester to question not only your daughter’s right but your authority as Queen. Fury simmered beneath your composed exterior, your hand twitching as though you might lash out.
But before you could muster a response, Jungkook was already moving.
“You will watch your tongue when speaking to the Queen, Maester,” Jungkook’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble, carrying the unmistakable weight of a threat. His usually calm demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more menacing. “Or it shall be taken from you.”
The room seemed to shrink around the Maester, all eyes now on him as the color drained from his face. His earlier arrogance dissolved in an instant, replaced with wide-eyed panic. The man who had dared to question your daughter’s birthright now looked as though he might faint from fear.
“I- I meant no offense, Ser Jungkook,” the Maester stammered, his words tumbling over themselves in a desperate attempt to backpedal. His gaze flickered nervously from you to Jungkook, searching for some kind of escape.
“You did,” Jungkook cut him off sharply, his tone like the edge of a blade. His gaze bore into the Maester, unyielding, unwavering. “And I will remind you once more: mind your tongue.”
The silence that followed was deafening, the threat hanging in the air like a blade, and no one doubted that Jungkook would make good on his promise if pushed further.
You turned your gaze to Jungkook, barely concealing your silent shock. The man who stood just feet away, usually so quiet and composed, always speaking only when spoken to, had stepped in to defend you — boldly, without hesitation. The gesture was unexpected, and for a moment, you were struck by the kindness and protectiveness it held.
It was not just the words he had spoken, but the intensity behind them, the clear signal that he would tolerate no disrespect toward you. In a room full of lords and courtiers who often dismissed your voice, Jungkook’s sudden defense felt like a rare and precious show of loyalty. Uncommon as it was, it left a warmth spreading in your chest, a silent but deeply felt appreciation.
Jungkook still hadn’t met your eyes, his intense gaze fixed on the Maester, the disapproval and disgust etched in his expression radiating an aura so fierce, it was almost frightening. He stood there like a wall of steel, silently daring anyone to challenge him again.
You turned your attention back to the Maester, who now squirmed under the weight of the moment. His once confident, condescending exterior had crumbled, now sitting timidly in his seat.
“Celeste is the rightful heir,” you stated, your voice even and composed, though laced with quiet authority. “She will rule Driftmark, and she will do so just as well as any man ever could. Anyone who questions that,” you paused, allowing the weight of your words to settle over the room, “will regret it.”
The Maester lowered his head, unable to meet your gaze, his earlier arrogance completely shattered. “Of course, Your Grace. Please, forgive my words.”
Jungkook didn’t move an inch, his focus still locked onto the Maester like a hawk waiting for the slightest wrong move. The room felt smaller, the tension almost suffocating as the Maester’s earlier confidence reduced to a pitiful murmur.
“See that you don’t forget that again,” you said, your tone final and cold, leaving no room for further argument.
With that, you stood up from your seat, the weight of the moment still hanging heavy in the air. Without another word, you turned on your heel and made your way out of the courtroom, every step deliberate, your posture unyielding. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as you moved, a quiet power radiating from you that demanded respect.
Jungkook, as ever, was by your side in an instant, but he kept a respectful distance, just enough to remain a silent protector, his presence still like a shield around you. His footsteps were measured, the sound of his boots echoing softly in the corridors, and yet there was an undeniable sense of security in the space between you two. No words were exchanged as you made your way to your chamber — there was no need for them. His silent solidarity was all you required.
Jungkook’s presence was reassuring, like the calm after a storm, and it made the weight of leadership — of being Queen — just a little easier to bear.
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After the heat of earlier’s events, the last thing you wanted was to step foot back into the chaos of the court. The weight of the Maester’s words still lingered in the air, and you felt the need to retreat, to recharge in the only place that felt truly like yours. So, you didn’t leave your chambers for the rest of the day. You took the rare opportunity to unwind, the need for solitude outweighing any further obligations for the day.
Without a second thought, you changed into your nightgown well before the moon rose, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to the tense weight of your court attire. You moved with practiced ease, the familiar ritual of shedding the day’s responsibilities easing the knots in your shoulders. 
The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting a warm glow that danced across the room. You sank into the couch, the cushions molding to your body as you settled in front of the flames. With a book in hand, you opened the pages, the words inviting you into another world — a world where you could forget, if only for a moment, the burdens of being Queen.
You lost yourself in the story, the flicker of the fire keeping time with the rhythm of your reading. Outside your window, the castle was quiet, the usual noise of the corridors muted by the sanctuary of your chamber. For the first time that day, you felt a sense of peace. The world outside could wait. Here, in the comfort of your own space, you could simply be.
But just as the fire’s soft, flickering glow began to lull you deeper into peace, a knock at the door broke the fragile silence, its sound sharp and intrusive. A flicker of annoyance stirred within you — someone daring to interrupt the quiet sanctuary of your evening. But then, a familiar voice, calm and steady, followed.
“Your Grace?”
It’s him.
You took a slow breath, the irritation melting away at the sound of his voice, and called softly, “Come in, Ser Jungkook.”
The door creaked open, but Jungkook didn’t immediately step inside. He stood just beyond the threshold, his tall frame framed by the dim light spilling from the hall, casting long shadows across the stone floor. There was something endearing in the way he paused there, as though uncertain, hesitating to cross the boundary of your private space without your explicit permission. His respect for the sanctity of your chambers was something rare, a simple act that made him stand out even more.
“My apologies, Your Grace,” he said, his voice smooth and steady, like the evening air itself. “I’ve just come to alert you that the children are abed.”
A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
What you didn’t know was that the children had been in bed for some time. Jungkook had only alerted you now because he was standing just outside your door, hesitating. He wasn’t sure if he should disturb your peace with the news. Still new to this role, he was uncertain of how to balance his duties with the delicate art of discretion.
“Thank you, Ser Jungkook,” you said, your tone warm with gratitude. “I would appreciate it if you informed me every night from now on.”
“Of course, Your Grace. Sleep well.” Jungkook gave a respectful nod, his voice as steady and sincere as ever, and he turned to leave.
“Ser Jungkook,” you called again, before he could close the door behind him.
He paused, hand resting lightly on the doorframe, his dark eyes meeting yours in the soft, flickering firelight. For a brief moment, the noise of the castle seemed to fall away, the crackling fire the only sound that filled the space between you. It was rare, these moments of true stillness, where it was just the two of you, no interruptions, no duties weighing on either of your shoulders. The warmth from the fire cast a soft glow over him, accentuating the quiet strength in his features.
For the first time, you found yourself truly looking at him — not just the protector of your children, not just the present knight, but Jungkook. 
“I’ve yet to thank you for earlier — in the Small Council chamber,” you said softly, your voice quiet but earnest. “I appreciate your defense. Thank you.”
The words hung between you for a moment, carrying a weight that felt heavier than it should. It wasn’t just the defense itself, though that was significant; it was the quiet way he had stood up for you. Jungkook had always been the silent one, always just there, standing in the background. But today, he had been more. He had spoken when no one else had. His simple act of defending you meant more than you could say.
Jungkook’s posture softened at your words, though his expression remained composed, his usual stoic demeanor intact. Yet, as he held your gaze, his dark eyes seemed to linger a moment longer than usual, a subtle warmth settling in his look that wasn’t often there. It was as though the space between you both had shifted, the heavy tension of the day dissolving into something quieter, almost comforting.
“It was nothing, Your Grace. You need not thank me,” he replied, his voice low and measured, though there was something beneath it — something genuine, almost vulnerable, that made the words feel different from his usual calm, detached responses. His eyes remained steady on yours, and for a moment, the usual distance between you seemed to shrink, as though he was offering something unspoken, something more than just a knight’s duty. “You shouldn’t have to endure that kind of disrespect. It’s my duty to protect you, in all ways.”
You gave a soft nod, absorbing the weight of his words. Jungkook was a constant in your life — a silent guardian who stood watch over both your children and yourself. But hearing him speak of protecting you in such a way, so plainly and honestly, stirred something within you. It wasn’t just your children that mattered to him; it was you, as well. 
“You do more than protect,” you said, your voice softer now, the weariness of the day gradually easing. “Your actions today… they meant more than you know.”
Jungkook’s lips twitched at the corners, acknowledging your words, but he didn’t respond right away. There was a brief silence between you both, the fire’s crackling embers filling the stillness as he shifted his weight, his stance still as rigid as ever, but now, a slight tension in his shoulders had eased.
“If there’s ever anything you need, Your Grace,” he said finally, his tone softer than it had been moments before, but with an underlying firmness that conveyed his commitment, “I am here.”
The sincerity in his voice wrapped around you like a quiet promise, steady and unwavering. The light of the fire caught on his features, casting soft shadows over his face, making his usually guarded expression seem less distant, more human. You felt a sense of peace settling into the space between you both, a momentary connection that felt more genuine than anything that had passed between you in the public eye.
“Thank you,” you replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, finding comfort in the rare, honest exchange.
Jungkook inclined his head once more, his expression softening in a way that was unusual for him — a small, but genuine smile curling his lips, the warmth of it making him seem more approachable, more... real.
“Goodnight, Your Grace,” he said quietly, voice full of respect, but also something else — something deeper.
“Goodnight, Ser Jungkook,” you murmured in return.
With that, he turned and moved to close the door behind him, the soft click of the latch signaling his departure. But as the door clicked shut, you realized that this time, you didn’t feel the usual solitude. There was something different. Something comforting. Something exciting that made the pit of your stomach feel funny, in knowing he was standing just outside your door.
Just the barrier of wood between you two.
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The next day unfolded much more peacefully than the last. 
You sat on the floor of your chamber, the luxurious fabric of your gown pooling around you like a soft sea of silk. The quiet of the room was comforting as you focused on the delicate task in front of you — embroidering a blanket for Luna. Each stitch was a calming motion, your mind momentarily free of the weight of royal duties. 
You hadn’t seen Jungkook yet, but his presence lingered in your thoughts, like an unspoken promise. The anticipation of his arrival stirred a quiet excitement within you, though you had no idea when he might appear. 
The silence was broken by your husband's voice, cutting through the peaceful air as he entered without knocking, his tone casual. “How are you feeling today?”
You glanced up briefly, meeting his eyes before returning to your work. “Better,” you answered, the edges of your lips curving into a faint smile.
“Good,” Atticus replied, smirking as he made his way over to the table and poured himself a goblet of wine. “Do you think you’ll be attending the Small Council today?”
You hesitated, the thought of sitting through another long, tedious session filling you with a quiet reluctance. “No… if that’s alright?” you replied, your tone tentative, not wanting to seem too dismissive of his suggestion.
“Of course,” Atticus said, lifting the goblet to his lips. His eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he added, “But I’ll have you know, I’ve hired a new Maester.”
The words hit you like a spark, and without thinking, you put your needle down. The sudden shift in the conversation caught your attention fully. Your eyes locked onto him, eyebrows raised in surprise. The idea of a new Maester was unexpected — and it immediately piqued your curiosity.
"Are you upset about that?" you asked, your voice soft and laced with a hint of apology, eyes searching his face for any sign of how he truly felt.
Atticus paused, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. His lips curled into a knowing smirk, and he set the goblet down gently on the table. "I could never be upset with you for only standing up for yourself," he said, his voice steady, though there was an underlying heat to his words. "And someone as disrespectful as that will not continue to walk around in this castle."
His declaration was resolute, filled with a quiet determination. The confidence in his voice was not just from his position, but from a place of deep respect for you. It was as if he had taken the full weight of your frustration upon himself, and the fire behind his words showed that he would do whatever it took to ensure you never had to endure such treatment again. 
You smile warmly at his words. "Thank you, Atticus."
He pauses, a small smile tugging at his lips, his fingers tapping idly on the edge of the table. "You know, as much as I’m not in love with you," he says slowly, his tone more thoughtful than usual, "I still love you."
The admission hangs in the air between you, the raw honesty in his voice bringing a quiet comfort. It wasn't the passionate declaration of romance you might have hoped for, but it was the kind of love that ran deep — steady, consistent, unshakable. 
You meet his gaze, and your heart softens with understanding. "As do I," you reply, your voice gentle but genuine. 
It wasn’t the kind of love that others might expect, filled with grand gestures and whispered sweet nothings. But in its own way, it was a love that had stood the test of time. It isn’t passionate, but there’s a respect and understanding between the two of you that runs deep.
“Now,” Atticus says, his voice low, teasing. “Can we talk about your knight in shining armor?”
You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smirk that tugs at your lips. “Oh Gods,” you say, the edge of amusement clear in your voice as you go back to your needlework.
“Oh, come on,” he whines, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “I let you pick, now you have to tell me all about him!”
You raise an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “It was you who suggested I pick?”
He shrugs nonchalantly, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I thought you’d feel more content choosing someone yourself.”
“I do,” you reply with a small smile, returning to your embroidery. “It was a wise suggestion.”
“Oh, don’t change the subject now!” He motions with a dramatic hand. “What was that about yesterday?”
“He was just defending me,” you say, hoping to dismiss the conversation, though you’re well aware it won’t be that easy.
Atticus lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes in dramatic fashion. “No knight is that devoted to duty, my dear wife.”
His words make you pause, but you try not to let it show. Still, a smile begins to creep onto your lips, unbidden. You hadn’t really allowed yourself to think about it that way. Jungkook had always been quiet, loyal, reliable — but devoted in the way Atticus is hinting? It’s a thought that stirs something unexpected in you.
“Well, believe it or not,” you say, unable to stop the small grin now, “we’ve spoken to each other only a few times.”
Atticus raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly, clearly entertained. “Is that so? And yet, with little words between you, he’s ready to challenge a room full of lords for your honor. Fascinating.”
You roll your eyes, returning to your needlework in an attempt to focus, but your mind can’t help but drift back to Jungkook. The memory of his voice, steady and unyielding as he defended you, lingers. Maybe Atticus has a point, but admitting that would only fuel his relentless teasing.
“He’s just dutiful,” you insist, though even you can hear the uncertainty creeping into your voice. 
Atticus catches it too, and his smirk widens as he takes a slow, deliberate sip from his goblet. “Dutiful because he loves his duty? Or because of you?”
Your cheeks flush instantly, the warmth creeping up your neck as you try to brush off the insinuation. “You’re reading into this too much,” you mumble, focusing on the embroidery in your lap, though your needlework suddenly seems less interesting.
“Am I?” Atticus drawls, stepping closer, his tone playful but probing. “Did you solely choose him because of his skills?”
You glance up at him briefly, trying to suppress a smile. “Are you implying something?”
He shrugs, the smirk on his lips widening. “Well, did you?”
“I did!” you exclaim, the words tumbling out a little too quickly, as if you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him. You glance up at Atticus, catching the amused gleam in his eyes. “He’s excellent with the children, and he strikes the perfect balance around here — intimidating enough to make it clear no one should challenge him, but not so much that the children are frightened. I trust him completely, and I’ve only known him a short while.”
Atticus hums, swirling the wine in his goblet with deliberate slowness before taking a sip, his skepticism apparent in the slight arch of his brow.
You shake your head, sighing lightly. “He’s proven his worth,” you say, trying to sound firm, though the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips betrays you. “It’s his abilities that matter.”
Atticus grins, thoroughly enjoying this exchange. “Of course, his abilities. And it’s just a coincidence that the knight you trust with our children’s safety also happens to be rather… easy on the eyes?”
You scoff, rolling your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest betrays your amusement. “His appearance has nothing to do with why I chose him,” you insist, though your tone has lost its edge, becoming playful and light. “He’s capable, loyal, and vigilant. His looks are irrelevant.”
Atticus raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening into a knowing grin. “Irrelevant, but not unnoticed?”
You shoot him a mock glare, though the smile tugging at your lips makes it hard to maintain any seriousness. “You’re impossible,” you say with a shake of your head. “I care about his skills and nothing more.”
Atticus chuckles softly, clearly entertained. “We shall see,” he teases, his voice lingering in the air as he begins to make his exit. His steps are slow, unhurried, as though he’s savoring the moment. 
He walks out with a lightness in his stride, and the faint echo of his laughter trails behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts — and the quiet, unsettling realization that maybe, just maybe, his words weren’t entirely off the mark.
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Returning to the Small Council felt different this time. The atmosphere had shifted. The men were more considerate, actually taking your opinions into account — a stark contrast to their usual dismissiveness. It seemed Atticus’ harsh punishment of the last Maester had sent a clear message: disrespect would no longer be tolerated. They were treading carefully now, not wanting to find themselves in a similar predicament.
You exhaled a long breath as you walked into your chamber, ready to unwind after the tense day. Removing your jewelry, you placed each piece delicately on the table, the soft clink of metal filling the otherwise quiet room. You went to bend down to slip off your shoes, eager for the relief of the cool floor beneath your feet.
But before you could, a sharp point suddenly pressed against your neck.
You froze.
Panic surged through you as the cold blade pressed harder against your skin, the world around you narrowing to the sound of your racing heartbeat.
“Don’t scream,” a low voice hissed in your ear, breath hot against your skin, “or you will die.”
Your breath hitched, the threat sinking in, terror flooding your veins. Tears welled in your eyes as helplessness gripped you. You had never felt so vulnerable, so utterly at the mercy of another.
The man spun you around with a jerk, and your gaze landed on another figure lurking in the shadows — both were dressed in the rough, dirt stained garb of rat catchers, but their eyes gleamed with intent far darker than pest control.
“We were paid to kill the little girl,” the man growled, his eyes boring into yours with malicious purpose. “The one who is set to inherit Driftmark. Where is she?”
Your heart stopped. They wanted Celeste. Your daughter. 
Desperation clawed at your insides, but you forced yourself to remain calm, though your voice trembled as you spoke. “I have many things in here of great value,” you said, your mind racing to stall, to buy any time you could. “You can take whatever you want. Jewelry, gold…”
The man sneered, pressing the blade just a fraction closer, enough to make your skin prickle with fear. “We’re not here for trinkets,” he spat. “We’re here for the girl.”
The suffocating pressure eased as the man shoved you away, though he kept his dagger trained on you, its sharp point a constant threat.
“Lead us to her,” he snarled, “and you will live.”
Your pulse quickened, panic rising. But amid the terror, you clung to one thought: Jungkook was just outside, standing guard by the children’s room. He would protect Celeste.
Heart pounding, you forced your legs to move, stepping cautiously toward the door of your chamber. The rat catchers followed closely, one of them pressing the dagger against your back, a constant reminder of the danger lurking just inches away.
By the time you reached the door, your eyes caught a glimpse of movement. Jungkook — his back against the wood, waiting, ready. His gaze met yours, and in that brief moment, you felt a surge of relief, but it was fleeting.
Before you could react, Jungkook sprang into action. In a heartbeat, he grabbed your arm and yanked you behind him, shielding you with his body. You stumbled backward, watching in awe as he unsheathed his sword with deadly precision. 
Jungkook wasted no time. His blade sank deep into the stomach of the first rat catcher, a sickening thud echoing in the hallway. The man gasped, blood spurting from the wound, and crumpled to the floor.
The second assailant, wild with desperation, swung his dagger wildly at Jungkook. But Jungkook moved with lethal grace, dodging each strike effortlessly. His movements were swift, controlled, each step calculated. In one fluid motion, he caught the man's wrist mid swing, twisting it with a force that made the man cry out in pain. Jungkook’s grip tightened, and with a brutal efficiency, he forced the attacker to plunge the dagger into his own abdomen.
The man’s eyes widened in shock, the weapon lodged deep within him, his strength faltering. Jungkook released him, and the second rat catcher staggered before collapsing to the ground beside his companion, both of them now lying in pools of their own blood.
In shock, you stood frozen, tears welling in your eyes as the reality of the moment crashed over you. Only a minute ago, you had feared for your life, for your family’s lives. And now, Jungkook had effortlessly put an end to the rat catchers, his blade on the ground still stained with their blood. It all felt too surreal, too close.
Before you could fully process what had happened, Jungkook rushed to you, his expression softening with concern. He cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch grounding you. “Your Grace? Are you hurt?” His voice was low but urgent, his eyes scanning you for any sign of injury.
You shook your head, still unable to find your voice, too overwhelmed by everything. Your heart pounded, your throat tight as you struggled to keep yourself together.
“You’re alright now,” Jungkook whispered, his thumbs brushing tenderly across your cheeks. “Everything’s okay.”
But it wasn’t. The fear, the relief, the gratitude — they all hit you at once, overwhelming your senses. And before you knew it, your emotions spilled over. You erupted into sobs, throwing your arms around Jungkook’s neck, seeking the warmth and safety of his presence. You buried your face into his skin, your tears dripping onto his armor as you cried.
Jungkook didn’t hesitate for a second. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to him, his strength and warmth offering the comfort you so desperately needed. One of his hands rubbed soothingly up and down your back while the other cradled your head, pressing you gently against his chest. His heartbeat, steady and strong, was the only thing keeping you grounded amidst the chaos of your emotions.
“Shh, it’s alright,” he murmured into your hair, his voice soft and calming. “You’re safe now.”
And in that moment, in his arms, you believed him.
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After Atticus learned about the rat catchers’ attack, his fury was swift and intense, shaking the very walls of the Red Keep. His voice thundered from the Small Council chamber, echoing through the halls as he took command of the situation. His anger wasn’t just justified — it was terrifying. No one dared stand in his way as he set out to make sure something like this could never happen again.
You sat in your children’s room, seeking comfort in their innocent presence. Even as you tried to calm your racing heart, the distant roar of Atticus’s orders only heightened the gravity of what had nearly occurred. He wasted no time doubling the guard, placing knights at every vulnerable corner of the Keep. The added protection was meant to reassure, but for you, it only underscored the severity of the danger that had almost taken your daughter.
Atticus was relentless in his pursuit of justice. He immediately dispatched his men to find out who had hired the rat catchers. It wasn’t long before the truth came out — your former Maester hadn’t been acting alone. There were more, many more, who shared his poisonous view that Celeste, your little girl, had no right to inherit Driftmark. These men, clinging to their outdated belief that only a man should rule, had conspired to end her life before she could ever sit upon the Driftwood Throne.
Those who were caught speaking against Celeste’s claim were dealt with harshly. Atticus showed no mercy. He threw them in the dungeons without a second thought, ensuring that any who dared oppose your daughter’s future would be silenced. In this, he was steadfast, and you were grateful for his fierce protection of your family.
But even with the threat supposedly contained, the fear hadn’t left you. That night still clung to you like a dark shadow, creeping into your thoughts when you least expected it. The memory of those men — of their knives and their cruel threats — replayed in your mind every night, a loop you couldn’t break free from. 
Sleep was becoming harder to find. You would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the attack pressing down on your chest. Even with Jungkook stationed just outside your door, standing as your silent guardian, the sense of unease never fully faded. You trusted him more than anyone now, knowing he had saved you without hesitation, but your mind couldn’t silence the what ifs. What if something happened to him? What if the guards missed something? What if they came back?
Tonight was no different. The room was quiet, your children safe in their beds, but your thoughts raced. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind outside felt like a reminder of how close you had come to losing everything. You sat up in bed, pulling your knees to your chest, trying to calm the storm within. 
Jungkook was right outside the door — so close, and yet, the fear lingered. You knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but that night had changed everything. The vulnerability, the terror, had been too real, and you couldn’t just forget it. Even though the Red Keep was locked down, even though Atticus had done everything in his power to keep you safe, you were haunted by the thought that danger still lurked just out of sight.
You couldn’t sleep. The quiet room, the stillness, your own thoughts circling endlessly — it was too much. You knew that tonight, like so many others, you’d be awake until the sun rose. So, with a sigh, you slipped out of bed, crossed the room, and quietly opened the door.
And there he was.
Jungkook stood just outside, his back to you, ever vigilant. When the door creaked softly, he turned, eyes meeting yours. In the faint light of the moon, his features were softened, yet his gaze was alert, concerned. The gleam in his eyes caught the moonlight, and for just a moment, the comfort of his presence made the world feel a little less daunting.
“Your Grace?” he asked, his voice low but steady. “I thought you’d be abed by now.”
“I can’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice quiet but laden with the weight of sleepless nights and endless worry.
“You’re safe now,” he said gently, his tone firm yet soothing, as if trying to will your mind to find peace. “Allow yourself to rest.”
You managed a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You said you’d be here if I ever needed anything.”
His brows furrowed slightly as he nodded, understanding your unspoken request. “I did.”
You hesitated only briefly before speaking again, your voice softer now. “Can you come in?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and he straightened. “Your Grace, I hardly think that is appropriate,” he replied, though his tone was more uncertain than firm. His sense of duty and propriety clashed visibly with his desire to help you.
“It will comfort me,” you said, the vulnerability in your voice enough to make him falter.
He hesitated, clearly torn. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as if it could ground him in the face of your request. His loyalty to you was absolute, but the boundaries of it were something he grappled with now.
Seeing his hesitation, you added, teasing softly, “Your Queen demands you.”
That earned you a small smile, one that softened the tension in the air. Jungkook shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he conceded. “Well, who am I to deny my Queen?” he said, stepping past the threshold.
As Jungkook entered the room, his mere presence brought with it a sense of security you hadn’t even realized you’d been yearning for. His eyes never left yours, filled with a mix of concern and quiet understanding, as you led him over to the couch by the fireplace. 
You settled yourself on one side, pulling a blanket over your legs as you crossed them beneath its warmth. When you glanced up, you noticed he hadn’t joined you yet. Instead, he stood a little distance away, unsure, his posture stiff as if still on duty.
“Sit,” you gestured to the empty space beside you.
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to the door as if he still wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do. But your gentle command was enough to sway him. With a slight nod, he moved closer, his heavy footsteps softening as he reached the couch. Just as he was about to sit, you spoke again, your voice quiet but firm.
“Take off your armor.”
He froze, eyes wide as if caught off guard by your request. “Your Grace,” he said slowly, his tone almost a warning, a reminder of the boundary he believed needed to remain in place.
But you shook your head, your expression soft but insistent. “I don’t want you here as Ser Jungkook,” you explained, your voice carrying a vulnerability you hadn’t meant to reveal. “I want you here just as Jungkook.”
For a moment, he didn’t move, clearly torn between his sense of duty and the comfort you were asking for. But then, with a slow exhale, he began to unfasten the clasps of his armor, the metallic clinks filling the otherwise quiet room. Piece by piece, the weight of it fell away, and he set it aside, each movement careful and deliberate.
Jungkook looked at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips as he gestured to his cloak. "If you would," he said softly, his eyes warm but with a hint of playful mischief.
You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a bit lighter as you stood from the couch, the blanket slipping from your lap and pooling onto the floor. Your fingers brushed against his as you reached for the clasp of his cloak, feeling the cool metal as you carefully undid it. The fabric was thick and heavy, and as you pulled it off his shoulders, it seemed to take with it some of the invisible barrier he kept between you both.
The air between you felt different now, more intimate, as you set his cloak aside with the rest of his armor. When you turned back to face him, he was watching you closely, his expression softer than before, as if seeing you in a new light.
For a second, you just stood there, gazing at each other in the soft glow of the fire.
Now, without the weight of his armor, Jungkook looked more relaxed, his shoulders less tense, though there was still a quiet alertness in his posture. When you invited him to sit, he did so without hesitation this time, his expression softening as he settled next to you on the couch.
As the fire crackled gently beside you, casting a warm glow over the room, you found yourself seeing him differently. Here, sitting in your chambers, with the walls of duty momentarily lowered, Jungkook wasn’t just your knight anymore. He was a man — kind, steady, and unexpectedly gentle in his presence.
“I’ve not been able to sleep as of late,” you admitted, your voice quieter, more vulnerable than you intended. “But with you here... I feel safe.”
Jungkook’s smile was soft, a flicker of warmth that reached his eyes. “I’m happy to hear that,” he said, though his voice was still laced with the respectful formality he always carried. “Your Grace.”
You hesitated for a moment, then spoke your name, more firmly this time. “Use my name. The formalities can stay with your armor… Jungkook.”
The moment hung between you, quiet but significant. When he repeated your name, his voice was different, softer, almost intimate. It felt personal, as if you were the only thing that mattered in this room, in this moment.
Your heart fluttered hearing your name on his lips. The way he said it felt more intimate than you’d expected, and as the quiet settled around you both, you realized the walls between you were coming down even more.
“My mother died when I was four and ten,” Jungkook begins, his voice steady but carrying the weight of years of grief. “She was murdered right in front of me. I was weak, untrained... I couldn’t help her. I just stood there, frozen, and I couldn’t save her.” He pauses, his gaze distant, lost in the painful memory. “When I left the children’s chamber to go guard yours and I saw those rat catchers in there… I knew I couldn’t let you down like I did my mother. I couldn’t let that happen again.”
Your heart clenches and your brows knit in sorrow, completely torn by his story. His words hang heavy in the air, the realization of his past weighing on your chest. You feel both gratitude and guilt — glad that Jungkook trusts you enough to open up, yet heartbroken by the trauma he’s lived through.
It suddenly makes sense — why he’s always so guarded, so precise, so fiercely loyal. You understand now why he was trained in combat at such a young age, why he’s so vigilant, and why he holds himself to such a high standard. His devotion to you, his protection of your family, it all stems from a promise he made to himself long ago, a promise born from tragedy.
You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm resting on the back of the couch, your touch warm and comforting. Jungkook’s gaze flickers to where your hand rests on his arm, and then back to your face, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
“You’ve done well to uphold that promise,” you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity. As your eyes meet his, you offer him a genuine smile, hoping it conveys the compassion you feel. “Your mother would love the man you’ve grown to be, Jungkook.”
For a brief moment, Jungkook’s eyes soften, his usual stoic expression breaking. He looks almost vulnerable, as if the weight he carries is shared, if only for a second.
“Thank you,” he says softly, his voice low and sincere. “I find myself very… protective over you.”
You tilt your head slightly, a teasing smile curling at the corners of your lips. The soft glow of the fire casts a warm light over your face, and your eyes seem to shimmer with curiosity. “Why is that?” you ask, a playful lilt to your tone as you watch him.
Jungkook hesitates for a beat, his dark eyes holding yours. He slowly pulls his arm away, the loss of contact leaving your skin colder than you expected. But before you can fully miss the warmth, you feel the feather light touch of his fingertips brushing down your arm. His touch is slow, deliberate, sending a tingling sensation across your skin, awakening something inside you.
Your breath catches as his fingers trail lower, the gentle path they take igniting a flutter in your chest. When his hand finally finds yours, his touch is warm and firm, his fingers lacing with yours like it was meant to be all along.
Jungkook looks down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over the back of your hand as if testing the waters. “It’s more than duty now,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with something deeper. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and you can see the vulnerability there, something raw and unguarded. “I can’t explain it fully, but… it’s like you’ve become more than just someone I’m sworn to protect.”
His gaze lingers on your face, searching for a reaction, and you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you — curiosity, anticipation, and something that feels dangerously close to longing.
Your lips part slightly, your heart hammering in your chest as the room feels smaller, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. “More than duty?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jungkook’s fingers tighten just a little around yours, grounding you in the moment. His eyes soften, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yes… much more than duty,” he says, his voice tender yet filled with a quiet intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls, but all you can focus on is him — on the warmth of his hand, the depth in his gaze, and the way the space between you seems to shrink with each passing second.
With his fingers still interlaced with yours, Jungkook gently pulls you closer. The sudden shift brings you nearer to him, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling your cheeks heat up as you blush under his gaze. The warmth of his body, the way his eyes are fixed on you — it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.
As the distance between you vanishes, your breath catches when you realize his gaze is locked on your lips. It’s intense, and it makes your heart race. You watch, spellbound, as he lifts his other hand slowly. His thumb brushes tenderly across your bottom lip, the pad of his finger soft against your skin. The simple, teasing touch sends a wave of warmth washing over you.
He lingers there for a moment, rubbing your lip, and then his thumb presses just a little more insistently, grazing the slit of your mouth as though silently asking for permission. The unspoken question in his eyes makes your pulse quicken, and you instinctively part your lips in response. His thumb slips inside, and you close your mouth gently around it, letting him in.
Your eyes remain on him as his thumb rests against your tongue, the sensation both intimate and electrifying. The fire crackles in the background, but the world feels muted, like it’s just you and him in this moment. Your heart pounds, and the connection between you grows stronger as you suck lightly on his digit.
Jungkook’s breathing becomes slightly uneven as he watches you, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more primal. He gently withdraws his thumb, his fingers now tracing the curve of your jaw, his touch both firm and tender. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.
The air between you is thick with anticipation, the moment heavy with the promise of what’s to come. His forehead rests against yours, and for a heartbeat, time seems to stop.
“We should stop before things go further,” Jungkook whispers, his voice low and husky, the warmth of his breath tickling your lips as he gives you the chance to pull away.
You pause, your heart racing in your chest. “We should,” you whisper back, the words lingering in the air between you both.
But neither of you move.
Instead, your gaze remains locked on his, and you can feel the heat radiating between you, the unspoken desire that lingers in the small space that still separates you.
And just like that, his lips are on yours.
The kiss is electric, his lips soft yet insistent as they press against yours. It’s slow at first, a tentative exploration, but the moment your mouths meet, everything else fades into the background.
As your lips remain locked with his, you straddle his lap, the movement seamless and natural, as if you’ve both been leading up to this moment for far too long. Your hands slide behind his head, fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, tugging lightly as the kiss grows more heated, more desperate.
Jungkook’s hands find your waist, gripping you firmly, and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine. You feel his muscles tense beneath your fingertips as you press yourself against him, your hips moving instinctively. A soft gasp escapes your lips when you feel the hardness beneath you, his cock straining against the fabric of his breeches, the friction making you yearn for more.
Your hips begin to buck slowly, grinding against him as you search for more contact, more release. The heat between you two is palpable now, your breath mingling with his as the kiss deepens, tongues tangling in a rhythm that matches the slow, steady roll of your hips. Every shift of your body sends a wave of pleasure through you, and you can feel his grip tighten on your waist, his breathing growing heavier.
Jungkook lets out a low groan against your lips, the sound vibrating through you, igniting something primal. You can feel the restraint he’s holding onto, the tension in his body as he struggles to keep control, but the way his hands grip your waist tells you he’s just as lost in the moment as you are.
The friction between you both builds, the heat intensifying, but the layers of fabric between you only heighten the desire, making you ache for more.
“Perhaps I should thank you,” you whisper against his lips, your breath hot and teasing as your hips roll against him, causing a deep groan to escape from Jungkook’s throat. You can feel him hardening beneath you, his body responding despite his attempts to maintain composure. “For your service…”
His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your sides just enough to make you feel how much he’s holding back. “It is only my mere duty,” he says, voice strained, each word laced with barely controlled desire.
You smile at his restraint, your lips moving to brush against the sharp line of his jaw. “You’ve done so much,” you murmur, your lips trailing lower, leaving a warm path down his neck, just beneath his jaw. His skin is soft and warm, and his pulse races beneath your touch. You hear his breath catch as you kiss along his collarbone, each word punctuated by a slow, deliberate press of your lips. “For me…” You move lower, your kisses more intentional, feeling his chest rise and fall more rapidly under your touch. “For my children…”
His hands twitch on your hips, torn between pulling you closer and letting you continue your slow, torturous descent. When you glance up at him, you see the way his dark eyes watch your every movement, clouded with need, a silent plea for more even as he struggles to keep himself grounded.
"I think you deserve a reward," you whisper, your voice sultry, teasing as your lips hover just above the edge of his tunic. Your fingers slowly, deliberately trace the hem, brushing against his heated skin as you make him wait, drawing out the anticipation.
Jungkook's head falls back, his lips parted as he releases a shaky breath, his control slipping with every passing second. His voice is a low growl, thick with longing. “You owe me nothing,”
You shake your head softly, your lips grazing the exposed skin of his chest. “I owe you everything,” you whisper back, your voice filled with sincerity and seduction, the intensity of the moment building as your hand moves lower, testing the boundaries of his restraint.
His body tenses beneath your touch, but his hands stay firm on your hips, holding you against him as if he’s afraid to let go. His eyes meet yours again, dark and full of raw emotion, his voice hushed, almost reverent. “I am yours,” he breathes, and in that moment, you know that he means every word.
With a soft smile playing on your lips, you slowly lift yourself off his lap, feeling the tension in the air as you lower yourself to the ground, kneeling between his legs. Jungkook watches you closely, his breathing uneven, eyes darkened with a mix of anticipation and restraint.
You place your hands gently on his thighs, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric of his breeches, his muscles tense beneath your touch. You start slow, allowing the moment to settle between you, your fingers tracing soft, deliberate circles along his thighs, teasing without rushing. Jungkook’s breath hitches slightly, his gaze locked on your every movement, as if entranced by the sight of you at his feet.
With a deliberate slowness, you begin to untie the laces of his breeches, savoring the quiet rustling of fabric as you pull them off completely, your fingertips brushing against his skin, making him shiver. You take your time, your eyes never leaving his, a playful gleam in your gaze as you watch his resolve crumble little by little.
His cock springs free, finally released from its tight confines. Jungkook lets out a low groan, the sudden release of tension sending a wave of relief through him. The sight of him, hard and ready, makes your breath catch, but you don’t rush. Instead, you rest your hands on his thighs again, grounding yourself in the warmth of his skin, feeling the subtle flex of his muscles beneath your palms.
You glance up at him, and the intensity in his gaze sends a thrill down your spine. His lips are parted, his breath heavy, and you can see the restraint in the way he grips the couch, knuckles white, fighting the urge to take control.
You spit into your hand before wrapping it around his cock, feeling its warmth and weight resting in your palm. You start slow, allowing him to adjust to the sensation, your fingers curling around him with a firm but careful grip. As your hand begins to move, sliding up and down in deliberate, teasing strokes, Jungkook's head falls back against the couch. A low, breathy moan escapes his parted lips, his chest rising and falling more heavily with each breath, betraying his struggle to hold onto his composure under your touch. His muscles tense, eyes fluttering shut, as the pleasure builds with each movement.
His reaction fuels you, and you keep your pace slow and sensual, your hand gliding smoothly along his length. Each movement draws another sound from him — whether it’s a quiet sigh, a deep groan, or the way his breathing catches for a split second. The power you hold in this moment, the way his body responds to your touch, makes the air between you feel electric, alive with tension.
Jungkook’s fingers dig into the cushions beside him, as if holding on for control, but you can see the way his restraint is unraveling, bit by bit. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parted in silent bliss, eyes closed as he surrenders to the sensation.
With a mischievous smile, you tighten your grip just a little, adding the slightest bit more pressure as you continue to stroke him, and his moan deepens, sending a shiver through you.
You lean in, teasingly slow, letting the anticipation build. Jungkook’s breath hitches as he watches you, his chest rising and falling faster, his hands tightening into fists. The moment your tongue makes contact with the tip of his cock, his body tenses. You start with soft, delicate kitten licks, testing his sensitivity, letting him feel every light flick of your tongue as you work.
A bead of precum gathers at the tip, and you lap it up, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. Jungkook’s groan is deep, almost guttural, his head tipping back against the couch once more as you tease him with your soft licks, never giving him more than just a taste of what’s to come.
The way he reacts, the way his body trembles under your touch, only spurs you on. You take your time, savoring the control you have over him, feeling the way his thighs tense beneath your hands.
You glance up at him through your lashes, enjoying the sight of Jungkook completely lost in the moment, his lips parted, breath heavy. His reaction fuels your desire to tease him more. Your tongue moves slowly, deliberately, swirling around his sensitive tip, while your hand continues its steady rhythm, pumping him with just enough pressure to keep him on edge.
He moans again, low and deep, his hips instinctively bucking up, searching for more of that friction you’re so teasingly withholding. You hum softly, the vibrations making his cock twitch against your tongue. You take him a little deeper, wrapping your lips around the head, sucking gently as you let your hand pump the base, building the tension.
Jungkook’s hands grip the couch tightly, fighting to stay still, his body betraying him with every small thrust of his hips. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, your tongue working against the underside of his shaft as you slide him further into your mouth. His response is immediate — his body jerks, a strangled groan escapes him, and you feel his hands twitch as if he’s fighting the urge to reach out and grab you.
You reach up and intertwine your fingers with his, and in that simple gesture, a new layer of intimacy blooms between you. His grip is firm, almost desperate, as if holding your hand is the one thing grounding him in the intensity of the moment. It's no longer just about desire; it's something deeper, more vulnerable, a connection that transcends the physical. His thumb gently brushes over your knuckles, a soft, tender contrast to the raw passion swirling around you. That small touch, full of unspoken emotion, speaks louder than words ever could, reminding you both that this is more than just a fleeting moment — it’s a quiet, shared promise.
Jungkook’s breathing becomes even more ragged as you continue to take him deeper, your lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to push him closer to the edge. You can feel his restraint, the way he’s holding back, trying to stay in control despite the pleasure coursing through him.
He groans, your name slipping from his lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. You hum softly in response, the vibrations causing another moan to escape his lips. The combination of his hand in yours, his soft gasps, and the warmth of his skin beneath your touch creates an almost overwhelming sense of connection.
You pull off him with a soft, wet pop, leaving his cock glistening in the firelight. Your lips curve into a teasing smile as you drag your tongue slowly along the length of his shaft, watching his reaction. Jungkook’s breath catches, his body tensing with anticipation. When you reach his base, you let your tongue dip lower, tracing a path to his balls. You take your time, licking and teasing the sensitive skin before gently sucking them into your mouth.
The reaction is immediate — his hips jerk up involuntarily, a deep moan escaping him as his head falls back against the couch. His knuckles are white as he grips the cushions, and his fingers tighten around yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment. You keep your eyes on him, enjoying the way his face contorts with pleasure, his lips parting with a shuddering breath.
“Fuck,” he groans, voice rough and strained, the sound vibrating through the air, sending a thrill through you. His chest rises and falls heavily as you continue to pump his cock in your hand, your strokes slow and deliberate, matching the rhythm of your mouth as you suck gently on his balls.
You can feel the tension building in him, his body trembling slightly under your touch. His muscles are taut, straining as he tries to hold himself back, but you know he’s close. The soft, breathless curses he murmurs between groans let you know just how much you're driving him to the edge.
Jungkook’s mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more intoxicating than the last. The feel of your mouth wrapped around his cock is overwhelming, your lips warm and slick as they glide over him, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. But what makes his pulse race even more is the sight of you — the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms — on your knees before him, your eyes dark with desire, lips wet and swollen as you take him deeper.
He can barely process it. A part of him feels like he’s lost in a dream, but the grip of your hand on his thigh, the soft, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat of your mouth around him all ground him in reality. His fingers tighten around yours, the intimacy of your entwined hands a stark contrast to the lust coursing through him.
He can’t stop thinking about how utterly beautiful you look, your regal composure gone, replaced by raw want. It’s sinful, how he can feel his cock throbbing in your mouth while your crown sits not too far away, a reminder of who you are — his Queen. And yet, here you are, on your knees, giving yourself to him so completely.
And then there’s the thought of what comes next. His cock twitches at the idea of getting you beneath him, of spreading your legs wide and burying himself in your warmth. He’s desperate to feel you around him, to watch your face twist with pleasure as he takes you, over and over again.
But even with all those thoughts swirling in his mind, one thing keeps echoing louder than the rest: the sheer power of this moment. The Queen, on her knees, sucking his cock like she’s wanted this as much as he has.
The thought sends another wave of heat through his body. He’s barely holding on, every moan, every stroke of your tongue pushing him closer to the edge. His breaths come faster, more ragged, his hips beginning to move on their own, thrusting gently into your mouth. 
Before Jungkook can take control, you pull back, rising from the ground and denying him the release he craves with a teasing smile. His frustrated groan fuels your confidence as you straddle him again, your knees resting on either side of his hips. Your fingers intertwine with his, and you guide both of his hands behind his head, locking your arms around his neck. His arms cross behind him, muscles flexing as he fights to keep himself in check.
The intensity in his eyes is undeniable — burning with desire, frustration, and the raw need to touch you, yet restrained by the control you've taken. Every part of him is taut, his body tense beneath you, waiting, aching for your next move. His gaze never wavers, fixed on you with an almost desperate longing, as if the anticipation alone could undo him.
You lean in slowly, planting a soft kiss on his lips, then another on his cheek, your breath brushing his skin. His chest rises and falls against yours, the heat between you both building to a near unbearable height. Then, lips grazing his ear, you whisper in a low, sultry voice, “I want you to fuck me the way a Queen should be fucked.”
Your words send a shudder through him, his body reacting instantly to your challenge. The restraint he’s been holding onto falters, his breathing turning ragged, his grip tightening slightly on your hands. The dominance of your demand ignites something primal in him, the heat in his gaze searing into you.
"Your Grace..." Jungkook murmurs, his voice deep and breathless, the title slipping out before he can stop it, laced with a mix of reverence and raw, uncontained desire. The slip into formality catches him off guard, as if he’s forgotten to leave the titles behind along with his armor. His jaw clenches, the tension in his body palpable as his control begins to fray at the edges. His eyes burn into yours, dark and hungry, as if your very presence has set him ablaze, and now, all he can do is watch helplessly as the flames consume him.
You feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself back, and you smirk, rolling your hips against him, letting the friction drive him further into madness. “Are you going to make me wait, or must I command you again?”
That’s all it takes. His resolve snaps. With a low, feral growl, Jungkook releases your hands and grabs you by the thighs, lifting you effortlessly in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised giggle, heart racing at how easily he’s carrying you across the room. His strength, his commanding presence — it’s intoxicating, making your body heat with anticipation.
With a mischievous grin, he throws you down onto the bed, your body bouncing softly against the mattress. Jungkook is on you in an instant, crawling over you with a predatory grace, his body looming above yours, eyes dark and filled with intent. His hands press into the mattress on either side of you, caging you beneath him. The weight of him, the way his muscles ripple as he moves, has your breath catching in your throat.
His lips hover just inches from yours, teasing, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, “I’ll show you exactly how my Queen should be fucked.”
There’s a rough edge to his voice now, one that sends shivers down your spine. His hands trail down your sides, fingers curling around the fabric of your dress, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. He takes a moment to admire the sight of you beneath him, his gaze smoldering as he drinks in every inch of your bare skin.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Jungkook’s lips descend to your neck, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your throat, your collarbone, and lower still, as his hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place. His touch is everywhere — greedy, relentless — stoking the fire that’s been building between you all night.
As his mouth moves lower, a soft moan escapes your lips, your body arching instinctively toward him, craving more. And just when you think you can’t take any more teasing, he pulls back, hovering above you once more, eyes dark with lust and promise.
Jungkook pulls off his tunic, standing before you, fully bare. His gaze is unwavering, filled with awe and raw desire as he drinks in the sight of you, every inch of your body drawing him in with quiet reverence. The heat of his stare is palpable, his lips parting slightly as his eyes travel from your breasts down to your stomach, pausing at the faint stretch marks left behind by your children. 
There’s no shame in his gaze, only admiration — those marks are a testament to your strength, the life you’ve brought into the world. His hand reaches out, hesitating for just a second before brushing over your skin, tracing the delicate lines with his fingertips, as if memorizing every detail. His touch is tender, contrasting the heat in his eyes, and the reverence in his expression makes your heart swell. 
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice hushed but filled with sincerity, almost as though he's speaking to himself. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell. There’s no hesitation in his gaze, no second thoughts — just pure admiration.
You can’t help but smile. Despite being nearly bare beneath him, you don’t feel vulnerable. You feel cherished, worshipped even, as if this wasn’t the first time he’s seen you like this. There’s a sense of ease between you, as if his presence was always meant to be like this — intimate and without fear. 
Jungkook leans in closer, his lips trailing down to your hip bone, placing a soft, lingering kiss there. The sensation is both grounding and electrifying, sending a shiver through your body. You glance down, meeting his gaze — intense and burning with desire, the kind of look that makes your heart race and your breath falter. In that moment, you can feel the fire behind his eyes, as if the world has fallen away and you're the only thing that matters.
Without breaking the connection, he lowers himself further, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The kiss is soft, reverent, but full of promise, inching closer to the place where you crave his touch the most. Your breath catches in your throat, anticipation thick in the air, when he finally leans forward and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your pussy through your soaking wet underwear.
A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the sudden contact, and instinctively, you lift your leg, gently pressing your foot against his shoulder to stop him from going further. His eyes flash with surprise, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in them as he looks up at you, waiting for your command.
“Maybe another time,” you murmur, your voice breathless but firm. “I want your cock.”
Your words hang in the air, heavy with anticipation, and Jungkook’s expression shifts, darkening with pure lust. He gives a low growl of approval, his hands gripping your thighs a little tighter as he quickly moves back up your body.
Jungkook wastes no time, his hands quick but careful as he pulls off your last piece of clothing and positions himself between your legs. His cock, already hard and slick with anticipation, brushes against your entrance, the warmth of him sending a ripple of electricity through your body. You can feel the tension in his muscles, every inch of him taut with restraint as he fights the urge to simply take you. He wants this moment to be more than just a rush of desire.
With a slow, deliberate nudge of his hips, he presses the tip of his cock against your core, the sensation both tantalizing and overwhelming. Your body reacts immediately, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he teases your entrance, the heat between you intensifying. His eyes are locked on yours, as if he’s savoring every second before fully sinking into you. 
Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer, urging him to give you exactly what you’ve been yearning for. His lips crash onto yours in a heated kiss, the moment charged with raw, unspoken passion as he finally pushes into you.
“Oh Gods,�� you moan, your back arching off the bed as the sudden stretch overwhelms you. Jungkook fills you completely, every inch of him pressing into you, making your breath hitch as your body adjusts to the delicious pressure. His movements slow for a moment, letting you feel every bit of him, the weight of his body grounding you as the heat between your legs spreads throughout your entire body.
Jungkook’s forehead drops to yours, his breathing ragged as he holds himself still, giving you a moment to adjust. "You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice thick with restraint. His hands roam your body, gripping your hips as though he needs to hold onto something to keep himself from losing control completely.
Your fingers slide up his back, nails grazing his skin as you tug him closer, desperate for more. "Move," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I need you."
That’s all it takes.
With a low growl, Jungkook begins to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, the sensation sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. Each movement is deliberate, deep, and measured. Your moans mix with his breathless grunts, filling the room with the sounds of your shared desire.
Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper with every thrust. His pace quickens, and soon, he’s moving faster, harder, the rhythm building as the pleasure between you grows. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your moans growing louder, more desperate as you cling to him, completely lost in the moment. 
Jungkook’s lips find your neck, peppering kisses along your skin between ragged breaths. “You feel so good… so fucking good,” he pants, his hips snapping against yours with growing urgency. 
Your hands tangle in his hair, your body responding to his with a need that’s been simmering for so long, now finally unleashed. "Don’t stop," you moan, your voice shaky as the heat within you builds to a breaking point. 
Jungkook’s thrusts become erratic, his breath hot against your ear. "Don’t think I can stop," he chuckles, his words sending a shiver through you just as the first waves of release begin to crash over you. 
You kiss him eagerly, teeth grazing his bottom lip before tugging at it playfully. Jungkook groans into your mouth, his hips stuttering for a moment at the sensation. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more heated as your hands pull him closer, your nails digging into his back.
He responds in kind, his lips crashing back onto yours, the intensity of his kiss matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He bites gently on your bottom lip in return, making you gasp into his mouth, your bodies completely in sync as the pleasure mounts between you.
Your kiss is a frenzy of passion, tongues dancing, breaths mingling, as every movement pulls you closer to the edge. You tug harder at his lip, and he growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips and sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins.
Jungkook’s pace becomes relentless, his control slipping as he loses himself in you. “The day of the Kingsguard posting,” he starts breathlessly, his voice low and rough as he thrusts into you. “When you walked onto the balcony… I saw you. Thought you were so pretty. So, so pretty.”
His words, spoken between ragged breaths, send a shiver down your spine, making you arch closer into him. You gasp, your hands clutching onto his shoulders as his confession wraps around you like a heated secret. The intensity in his eyes as he speaks, as he moves inside you, is overwhelming — his vulnerability laid bare, a part of himself he’s never shared with anyone else.
“I shouldn’t have thought it,” he continues, his voice thick with desire and restraint as his pace quickens, “but I couldn’t help it. I wanted you from that moment.”
You feel your heart pound in your chest, not just from the pleasure but from his raw honesty. Your lips part, but no words come out, only breathless moans as he pushes you closer to the edge. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips brushing your ear.
“I never thought I’d have you like this,” he whispers, his voice rough with awe and hunger, each word laced with the weight of unspoken desire. “But now that I do… I’m never letting go.”
His confession wraps around you, sending a shiver through your body as his movements become more intense. The passion in his eyes, the way his body presses into yours, has you spiraling, lost in the heat between you.
You raise a trembling hand, gently brushing his hair back, your fingertips lingering against his skin. “I’m yours,” you breathe, the words slipping from your lips like a vow.
The way his eyes darken, the way his grip tightens on you, tells you he’s heard it loud and clear. And in this moment, you know he’ll hold onto that promise as tightly as he holds onto you.
He laughs out a moan at this. His pace quickens, his thrusts deeper, harder, each one sending you spiraling further. Your moans mix with his, filling the room, the sound of skin against skin only adding to the fire between you. His hands roam your body, memorizing every curve, every inch of you like it’s the last time.
“I’m so close,” he whispers, his voice strained, his body trembling as he fights for control. His forehead presses against yours again, his eyes searching yours, desperate, as if he’s asking for permission to lose himself in you.
You nod, your own release building, teetering on the edge. “Cum with me,” you breathe, your voice shaky, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please.”
With a few more deep, powerful thrusts, you feel Jungkook’s body tense as he releases into you, a low groan escaping his lips. The sensation triggers your own climax, waves of pleasure crashing through you as your body tightens around him. You gasp, arching against him, your hands clutching at his back as you ride out the overwhelming sensations together.
His name tumbles from your lips in a soft moan, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. For a moment, the world outside fades — it's just the two of you, tangled together, hearts pounding in sync, as you both come down from your highs.
He doesn’t move right away, his weight still pressed against you, his hands tracing slow, soothing circles on your hips as he catches his breath. You can feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, a silent reminder of the intensity you just shared.
Finally, Jungkook picks his head up from your chest, his dark eyes soft as they meet yours. He leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, just because he finally can. It feels different now, with no hesitation between you, just pure connection. After pulling away, he shifts to lay beside you, pulling you against his chest, your bodies fitting together perfectly. 
You lie there in comfortable silence for a while, both of you catching your breaths, the calm after the storm. Jungkook’s fingers absentmindedly trace shapes on your back, lulling you into a peaceful haze. But then, he breaks the quiet with a teasing tone.
“Did I exceed your expectations, my Queen?” His voice is low and playful, a soft chuckle escaping him.
You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “Arrogant, are we?” 
But you don’t let him respond. Instead, you sit up, straddling his waist once again, your grin mischievous as you lean down to kiss him, deeper this time, your lips lingering against his. 
“Might need to go again to give you a wholehearted answer,” you say with a smirk, looking down at the man who looks far too comfortable in your bed — a man who, by all means, shouldn’t be here.
His eyes widen for a moment before a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, matching your energy. He chuckles, his hands gripping your waist firmly, his desire evident.
Jungkook knew that once the children were tucked safely into bed, these sneaky nights with you would be his favorite part of the day — full of far more excitement than he’d ever imagined.
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The days stretched on like endless hourglasses, the sand moving far too slowly. Every moment of the daylight hours was consumed by anticipation, the constant pull of wanting the sun to sink and the moon to rise. It was during the night, when Jungkook would slip quietly into your chamber, that the world finally felt right.
Whether it was tangled sheets, quiet conversations, soft laughter, or simply lying in each other’s arms, those moments with him were the highlight of your days — only second to the joy of your children’s smiles, of course. But with Jungkook, time seemed to bend, each night feeling like a stolen treasure that you cherished more with every passing hour.
As much as you despised the act of walking past Jungkook during the day, pretending he wasn't your lover at night, the thrilling game of trying not to get caught was undeniably fun.
The secret, the tension of it, had its own special allure. Yet, there were moments when the near misses took a more terrifying turn.
Like that one time.
You'd been soaking in a bath, the water warm and fragrant with bubbles, the steam swirling around you like a blanket of comfort. But Jungkook, always unpredictable, had snuck in without a sound. Before you could even protest, he was stripping himself bare, sliding into the tub with you, the sudden shift in water making a small splash as he settled in.
Laughter filled the room as water overflowed, but that quickly faded into a mix of heavy breaths, wet skin, and the sound of sloppy kisses. Jungkook's hands gripped your waist as he leaned back, his head resting against the tub's edge, eyes locked on you. Your hips moved in sync, the sound of water splashing and your soft moans combining with his groans, creating a rhythm that made your heart race.
Then, just as the heat between you both reached its peak, a knock at the door shattered the moment. It was so sudden and unexpected that Jungkook's hand shot up, covering your mouth before you could release a gasp, freezing you in place. Your breath caught, heart pounding in your chest.
"Your Grace, I have your warm towels," came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. The maid sounded so oblivious, so unaware of what was actually happening just beyond the wooden barrier.
Jungkook didn't move a muscle, still as stone, his hand resting over your lips as his eyes met yours with a mischievous glint. Slowly, he lifted his hand, urging you to speak.
"J- just leave them at the door," you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heartbeat betrayed your calm facade. "I’ll grab them once I'm finished."
Jungkook stifled a chuckle, clearly finding the entire situation amusing as though it was nothing more than a joke to him. But you knew better. This was dangerous, reckless, and could cost both of you far more than just embarrassment.
"Very well, Your Grace," came the maid's voice, before the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance.
The moment she was gone, you slapped Jungkook's chest, eyes narrowed in mock fury. "We could've been caught," you said, your voice laced with both exasperation and something else — something darker, more thrilling. But the smile that tugged at your lips betrayed your feigned seriousness.
Jungkook grinned, his chest rising and falling with a quiet chuckle, as he pulled you back toward him, the playful tension still lingering in the air.
Because nights with Jungkook were always too short, he made sure to steal as many kisses and playful winks during the day as possible. The fleeting moments shared between you were like stolen treasures, hidden in plain sight.
Whenever the children finished their lessons, Jungkook was quick to position himself in front of the door to the next room they’d move into, knowing you'd soon follow, eager to check on them and hear about what they’d learned. Each time, like clockwork, you’d approach, ready to step past him, only for him to block your way with a teasing grin.
“Let me in,” you’d whine softly, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
He’d simply point to his cheek, signaling for a kiss as if he were making a royal decree. You’d roll your eyes but play along, leaning in. Just as your lips brushed his cheek, he’d turn his head swiftly, catching your kiss on his lips instead.
Your heart would race as you quickly pecked his lips once more, a mixture of thrill and worry filling you at the thought of someone walking down the corridor and catching you both. With a final flustered glance at him, you’d hurry into the chamber to join your children, trying to maintain your composure as you asked them about their day.
Meanwhile, Jungkook would stand tall outside the door, his expression serious, as though he was merely guarding the room. But the sparkle in his eyes and the lingering hint of a smile betrayed him, the playful mischief still present even as he forced himself to appear composed.
The only person who knew about your secret relationship with Jungkook was Atticus. You’d confided in him, and he had been overjoyed to learn he’d been right all along. He had always suspected something, but hearing it from you only fueled his excitement and pride at being in on the secret.
Jungkook’s devotion to you went far beyond his duty as a knight. On the surface, he played his role flawlessly, always by your side, always vigilant. To everyone else, he was simply your loyal protector, the ever watchful guard who would give his life without question. But beneath that armor, beneath the stern facade he wore in public, his loyalty ran much deeper.
He wasn’t just devoted to you as his Queen; he was devoted to you as the woman he loved, with a fierce, unshakable passion that transcended titles or obligations. Every time he stood by your side, it wasn’t just as your sworn knight but as the man who would do anything to keep you safe, even if it meant loving you in secret for the rest of his life.
In the quiet moments, when the world wasn’t watching, his love shone through. The way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his fingers lingered just a moment longer when they brushed against yours, or the way his lips would curl into a faint smile when he caught you stealing glances at him. It was in the way he held you at night, after everyone else had gone to bed, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke of a love so deep, words could never do it justice.
Jungkook didn’t need grand gestures or declarations of love. His devotion was in the small things, the quiet sacrifices, the way he protected you not just with his sword but with his heart. Every glance, every touch, every whispered word in the darkness was a testament to his unwavering loyalty — not to the crown, not to his duty, but to you.
And though the world might never see the depth of his devotion, you felt it every day. In the way he watched over you, in the way he shielded you from not only physical threats but from the weight of loneliness that sometimes crept in. He was your protector, not just in body but in spirit.
As the years passed, your secret love remained hidden, but his devotion never wavered. No matter the risks, no matter how many times you had to pretend in public that he was nothing more than a knight, Jungkook’s heart was yours, fully and completely.
In the end, it didn’t matter that the world would never know the truth. You knew. You saw the way he loved you, not just as a knight sworn to protect you but as a man devoted to your heart, forever bound to you in a way that went beyond duty or title.
And in that devotion, you found your peace. Because you knew, no matter what happened, Jungkook would always be by your side — not just as your protector but as your lover, your confidant, and the one person who truly understood the depths of your soul.
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pathologicalreid · 3 months ago
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all we ever do is talk | s.r.
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in which Spencer and wife!reader fear they're getting boring, so the BAU sets them up with a hotel suite for Spencer's birthday
margotober masterlist
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: i don't remember. hold on. oral (f and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, breeding but not like the primordial kinky type just like, having sex to get pregnant, drinking wine, this is like circa s11, not proofread i'm just a girl, david rossi being rich for the plot, i hate hate hate the word pussy but here we are, softdom!spencer. spencer reid certified gift giver! word count: 4.17k a/n: a fic based on a del water gap song? who's surprised? no one! anyways i blacked out toward the end of writing this one no clue what happens here also sorry about the breeding thing i really don't know where that came from
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The robe you wore was luxurious, and the cumulative cost of every item in your hotel room likely cost more than you made in a year. Needless to say, you were starting to feel out of place in the room, your hair and makeup done to perfection as you waited for your husband to arrive.
Reaching into your pocket, you slip your phone out and check for notifications. JJ was your babysitter for the night, and even though she had insisted that everything would be fine, you had never actually spent a full night away from Eleanor. You had no idea how Spencer did it time and time again for cases.
You: Everything good? JJ: Shouldn’t you be with Spencer right now? You: He’s on his way. You: Everything good?
She responds with a picture of Nell, your sweet toddler, who was seemingly too focused on the bowl of mac n cheese in front of her to even look at the camera. You type out a reply to JJ before forwarding the photo to Spencer.
JJ assured you that Eleanor would be in good care with her and Will, and it’s not that you have any doubts, it’s that she’s your baby and this is your first time being away from her.
The door to the hotel room clicks, and you set your phone on the comforter, watching as Spencer walks into the room before returning the key card to his wallet. “Hey,” you greet from the bed, crossing one leg over the other.
“Hey, honey,” he says, striding over to you before pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, “You smell nice.”
You nod in the direction of the bathroom, “I got here early and took a bath.” Slowly, you take a better look at him, “You look good, I like that suit on you.”
He holds his arms out and looks down at himself, “I heard through the grapevine that you have a fantastic dress for tonight, so I figured I needed to pull out all of the stops.” Years ago, Rossi had gotten all of the BAU men custom designer suits, that must be the one your husband had chosen to wear tonight. It was fitting, seeing as Rossi was probably fronting most of the bill for your night.
“I’ve never heard Penelope referred to as a grapevine before,” you respond in jest, getting up from the bed before you make your way to the bathroom. “She helped pick the dress,” you inform him, shedding your robe before stepping into the dress. It was a short, black velvet number that clung to the contours of your body in a way that you hadn’t thought was possible. Instead of straps, two dainty chains went over your shoulders, leaving excess dangling over your back.
Spencer clears his throat, “So, how did the drop-off go?” He missed the big goodbye, which was probably for the best.
You sigh, “Nell was great. I was a mess.” You had only been given a few days to prepare for being away from her.
Carefully pulling the chains over your shoulders, you look at yourself in the mirror before slipping your heels on and stepping out of the bathroom. Spencer was standing in front of the windows, watching the sunset over the horizon, “For what it’s worth, I had no issue with the original plan for tonight.”
Initially, you had planned to celebrate Spencer’s birthday at home with Eleanor, and there was meant to be a party with the rest of the BAU tomorrow evening. Somehow, the team had gotten the idea that the two of you needed an evening out, so they chipped in to give you just that—some members more than others.
“I’m always alright with spending quality time with my girls, but—” his voice cuts off as he turns to look at you, “Never mind.”
You chuckle, “What?” Looking down at yourself, you smooth out the front of the dress with your palms.
His eyes wander as he unabashedly checks you out, “I’m finding with every passing moment that this might be my preferred plan for the evening.” He watches attentively as you go back to sitting on the edge of the bed, fixing a twisted strap of your heel while Spencer stands directly in front of you.
“When was the last time we went out on a date?” You ask, strapping your heel around your ankle.
He hums, fake thinking about your question even though he knows the exact date, “However old Nell is, add approximately ten months,” he answers.
You look up at him, your face warming in surprise, “Has it really been that long?”
Spencer nods mournfully, “Almost three and a half years,” he sits down on the bed next to you, placing his hand on your bare thigh and swiping at the soft skin with his thumb.
Holding your hands up to your face, you glance at Spencer with wide eyes, “Oh, Spence. When did we get boring?”
“We aren’t boring,” he insists, “We have a two-year-old. We work.”
You raise your eyebrows at him, “Other people do those things, and they’re not boring.”
He matches your look, “We aren’t boring,” he repeats. “Let’s make a deal,” Spencer offers, “Tonight, you and I won’t be boring.
“Right, so we’ll have a glass of wine at dinner tonight and then return to being boring tomorrow?” You say glumly, watching as he shifts on the mattress, adjusting his weight distribution.
“No,” he whispers, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips before sliding off the mattress, leaving him on his knees in front of you.
Blinking absently at him, your heart jumps at the sight of him in front of you, “You know we have dinner reservations, right?”
He gives you a slightly incredulous look, “You know it’s an open reservation, right? We have it until midnight.”
Your head bobs in acknowledgment, silently permitting him to part your knees, and you watch him come to the realization that you weren’t wearing any panties, “I didn’t want any lines to show under the dress,” you explain. There was also a part of you that hoped your evening would go in this direction.
Placing his hands on your hips, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, rolling your dress up to your waist, leaving you bare in front of him, “You’re perfect,” he breathes, “I don’t tell you that enough.” His fingers carefully prod at your core, a ghosting of pressure as he sweeps his index finger over your folds, an array of goosebumps forming over your skin.
Your breath hitches when he grips one of your thighs, placing it over his shoulder in the way he’s done numerous times before, but it always seems to take your breath away. “You tell me plenty,” you say, the sensation of his breath on your wet heat affecting you in ways you haven’t felt in ages.
“That’s not nearly enough,” he scolds himself, craning his head forward to press a kiss to your clit, chuckling when you jump as a result.
Releasing a breathy laugh, you look down at Spencer, your heart racing as you await his next move, “Then tell me again,” you whisper.
Spencer hums in response, slipping his pointer finger inside of you as he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”
You let out a soft moan as his finger slowly starts moving out, taking it slowly as you lean back on your hands, careful not to mess your hair up too badly, “Spence,” you whine at the pressure.
“I know,” he tells you, “It’s been a while, huh?”
Closing your eyes, you nod quickly as he slips a second finger into your cunt, a gasp escaping your lips as your body stretches around his fingers, “It’s been too long,” you tell him, lifting one hand to your mouth and biting down on your knuckle to muffle your sounds—a habit you’d picked up since having a baby.
He hums, peering up at you through hooded eyes, “This is a honeymoon suite, angel. It’s engineered to keep sound in.”
Your hand drops obediently, falling back to the mattress as you ignore the implications of the BAU reserving the honeymoon suite for you and focusing on your husband, who was bending his neck down to suck your clit. His lips encircle the sensitive nub as you let out a low whimper, knowing what’s about to come making you apprehensively excited.
Steadily, Spencer works at you, thrusting his fingers while suckling at your clit, periodically using his tongue to apply pressure, and reveling in your high-pitched moans as he drives you closer and closer to what you’re sure will be your first of many orgasms of the night.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, moving one hand to the top of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging at the strands.
He shifts on his knees slightly, coming up for air as he adjusts the angle of his fingers inside of your cunt, going back down on you as his fingers find a new pace. They curl inside of you, targeting the spongy button that makes your abdomen tighten and your thighs tremble.
Overwhelmed, you repeat his name like a prayer while you pull at his hair, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you cry, helplessly staring at the ceiling while Spencer keeps his motions going, his fingers relentlessly thrusting into you while he sucks at your clit, encouraging your orgasm.
Your walls clench around his fingers as your orgasm rips through you, your legs shaking as your husband remains buried between your legs, working you through your orgasm, “So perfect,” he pants, gently massaging your pussy as he withdraws his fingers, pressing soft, tender kisses to the insides of your thighs. “We don’t even have to go to dinner,” he says, looking at you hungrily.
You smile down at him, “We should go, Dave called in a favor to get us this reservation.”
Spencer straightens up and nods in agreement, holding his hand up to your mouth, “Open,” he says, looking satisfied when you poke your head forward, putting your lips around his two fingers and tasting yourself on them.
Sucking your own slick from his fingers, you focus on his eyes as you swirl your tongue around them, watching the dilation of his pupils because you know exactly what effect you’re having on him. He slips his fingers from your mouth before dropping a kiss on your lips, the entire exchange reminiscent of the time before you had Eleanor. You weren’t complaining.
Checking his watch, Spencer stands up straight in front of you, helping you stand, he holds onto your waist while you find your balance, “How are you feeling?”
You peer up at him through your mascara-coated eyelashes, “Most decidedly not boring,” you answer, following him into the bathroom so the two of you can clean up.
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“C’mere,” Spencer beckons, looking at you from across the table. “You’re too far away,” he explains, the table at the restaurant keeping the two of you apart when you’ve already established that you want to be close tonight.
Taking your napkin off of your lap and setting it on the table, you grab your glass of wine and make your way to your husband. In the private room that had been reserved for you, “Here I am,” you present yourself to him, the privacy glass that surrounded you concealing the way his arm snaked around your waist, guiding you to his lap.
He smiles up at you, “That’s better,” he says, your legs latticed over his own.
Looking over your shoulder at the table, you hum an acknowledgment, “This table is almost comically large for two people.” You imagine it’s intended to be fancy, a long, glamorous table for a glamorous restaurant. You lean your head against Spencer’s, closing your eyes and appreciating your closeness, “Happy birthday, my love.”
“It’s not my birthday yet,” he murmurs, tipping his head back and kissing you softly, the taste of the wine that had been chosen for you was faint on his lips.
A soft giggle bubbles in your throat, “Then I’ll have to stay up until midnight so that I get to be the first one to tell you.”
Humming, Spencer settles a hand on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze, “The real challenge there is staying up until midnight.”
“I’m sure we can think of something to keep us up,” you grin cheekily, swinging your legs. “So, before you’re officially older,” you begin, “What do you want to do with your next year of life?”
“Finish the bathroom remodel,” he answers almost immediately, referring to your main floor bathroom that had been in disarray for months. The countertop that you had chosen was still on backorder.
You raise your eyebrows, “What do you want to do that will help us on our pursuit to become less boring?”
Spencer studies your expression, taking his time before answering, “I’d like to at least discuss having another baby,” he responds.
Admittedly, it had been on your mind recently. With Kate leaving the BAU to spend time with her baby and JJ announcing she and Will were expecting, considering having a second baby wasn’t out of the realm of imagination. “You want another baby?” Your question is soft, you look at him, studying the brown eyes that he had passed down to Eleanor.
He nods, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles on your bare thigh. “I know that you’ll bear most of the responsibility if we have another baby. I’ll still be around as much as work will allow, but there’s only so much room for variables in the BAU. I wouldn’t want you to feel alone in it, but I— I’d like for Nell to have a sibling.”
“Okay,” you breathe, not needing much convincing to come to a conclusion. Admittedly, you weren’t expecting this conversation tonight, but it wasn’t a conversation you’d ever had before. Eleanor was about as much of a surprise as a baby could be.
Spencer looks surprised at your reply, “What?”
Slinging your arms around his shoulders, you shrug, “Let’s have another baby. This time next year Nell will be three, so, now almost feels like a perfect time.”
“It takes most couples months to conceive when they’re trying,” Spencer tells you, “Only about thirty percent conceive in the first three months.”
You raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “How long does it take couples who have a luxury hotel room to themselves for the night?” Your loaded question easily slides off your tongue as you lift your hand to his chest, thumbing the silk fabric of his tie while you wait for his answer.
He led the way to the hotel room, luckily the hotel and restaurant were connected; you would’ve hated for a cab driver to see you dazedly staring at your husband with the promise of what comes next.
Pulling his keycard from his wallet, Spencer pushes the door open, dragging you in behind him before pressing you up against the wall. You shove at the lapels of his jacket, trying to get it off of him.
Haphazardly, you drop pieces on the floor, Spencer’s jacket, your heels, his tie, everything falling away as the two of you stumble to the bed. You yelp when you fall back onto the bed, Spencer catches himself above you and a fit of giggles erupts from your mouth. A sort of light, airy feeling goes through your head while you’re beneath him, the freeing feeling of knowing you’re about to have sex and you don’t have to worry about your toddler knocking on your door was overwhelming.
You kiss him while fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt, pulling the white fabric from where it was tucked before discarding that as well. “Wait,” you say breathlessly.
Spencer sits up, panting as he looks down at you, “What is it?” He asks, eyes searching for something wrong.
You prop yourself up on your elbows, “I bought lingerie for tonight,” you tell him, eyes flickering over to your overnight bag. The blue, lacy set was calling your name.
Hovering back over you, Spencer bows his head and presses a soft, unhurried kiss to your lips, “Show me later?”
Nodding, you watch him as he pulls his undershirt off, another bundle of fabric lost to the ground. Gently, you push at him, making it so his back is on the mattress as you place one knee on either side of his waist.
His hands tug at the hem of your dress, ruching the fabric around your waist as you slowly grind your hips over his. “Fuck, baby,” he hisses, already tightly wound after your earlier activities.
Understanding, you start to leave a trail of kisses down his chest, continuing to go lower until you’re unbuckling his belt and undoing his fly, placing your hand over his already hard cock and palming him on top of his briefs, “You’re so hard,” you moan, your mind thinking ahead to when he’ll inevitably fuck you.
In the interim, you tug his pants and briefs halfway down his thighs, leaving his length standing at attention for only a moment before you duck your head, licking a long stripe up the veiny underside of his cock. Spencer’s hips buck up from the mattress in response, and you take him in your mouth, using your hand to touch what you can’t fit in your mouth.
Pressing your tongue flat against the head, you moan with him in your mouth when he grabs a fistful of your hair. You were no longer worried about your appearance, only about driving him as crazy as possible.
“Angel,” he says, his voice strained, “I can’t— I need to be in you.”
You lift your head, moving back up to him and straddling his hips again, placing your bare pussy on top of his hard cock. Wiping drool from the corner of your mouth, you raise your eyebrows at Spencer, “Are you ready?”
He nods, mouth falling open when you lift yourself up and position his length at your entrance, “Oh, wow,” he breathes, gently rubbing at your clit as you ease yourself onto him, your walls throbbing around him. His hand settles on your hip as you take a moment to adjust.
Pulling at your dress, you tug it over your head, leaving it on the floor of the hotel room, “Ah,” you sigh, rolling your hips slightly to try and help your body adjust.
“Absolutely no lingerie necessary,” he says, his eyes studying your body as if he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. “I’m so thankful for you, my girl,” he murmurs with lust-hooded eyes.
You hum in response, bending at the hips to put your lips on his, a whimper escaping your lips when his hips buck up from the mattress again, “Fuck, call me that again.”
“My girl,” he echoes, thrusting up into you again. “I’m not going to last very long,” he admits, groaning as you start to lift yourself up and down on his cock.
Small whines come from your lips with every movement, you shake your head, “That’s okay, we can…” your voice trails off, “I don’t think I will either.” The admission comes as a bit of a surprise to yourself, you hadn’t realized you had gotten so worked up.
Snaking his hand between your bodies, Spencer focuses his attention on getting you to your second orgasm as your movements grow unsteady, “You’re doing so well,” Spencer encourages you, knowing you aren’t usually on top.
“Shit, Spence,” you gasp, your resolve failing as your torso drops forward, giving him the freedom to continue lifting his hips up into you, “Oh,” your cunt clenches down around him, “I’m cumming,” you tell him, burying your face in his chest as you cry out. His thrusts start to overstimulate you as he chases his own orgasm, and eventually his movements falter.
You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside of you as his hot cum fills you, a tired sigh as his rigid body relaxes back into the mattress, “Oh, my girl,” he whispers, smoothing your hair back as you catch your breath on top of him, “Why don’t you stay up here for a little bit?”
Nodding, you look up at him, a pink flush splattered across his face as you watch him, “I love you,” you breathe, glancing at the clock, “Happy birthday.”
Spencer spares a glance at the clock, three minutes past midnight, “I love you too, angel. Thank you.”
You sigh, lifting yourself on shaky arms and grabbing a box from his bedside table, “This is for you.”
He releases a breathy laugh, obviously amused at the idea of opening a birthday gift while he’s still buried inside of you, “I got you something too,” he admits, sweeping a strand of hair from your face.
Tilting your head to the side, you frown, “It’s not my birthday.”
Shaking his head, Spencer agrees with you, “No, but I find I can’t resist giving you gifts.”
You inhale sharply when he twists to open the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a rectangular box and resting it next to him so he can start to open the gift from you.
“Oh, honey,” he says, opening the watch box. His old one had a damaged mechanism and needed to be replaced, but it wasn’t something he was likely to spend the money on for himself. Naturally, you did it for him.
You raise your eyebrows, “It’s engraved,” you explain. Watching him take the watch out of the box and look at the back, the dates that you had carved in being significant markers in your relationship. Your wedding anniversary. The date Eleanor was born. There was plenty of space to add more dates too, should the time come.
“It’s perfect,” he tells you, placing the watch back in the box to keep it safe, “Thank you,” he says, shifting under you as he reaches for the box.
Rolling your eyes, you accept the box anyways, “Now, why would you get me a gift for your birthday,” you tut, undoing the ribbon on the box before opening it. “Oh,” you breathe, “Oh, Spence,” you say, tears pricking your eyes.
Inside of the box was a necklace, and strung on the dainty chain was a teardrop-shaped sapphire. “It’s Eleanor’s birthstone,” he explains, “I saw it last time Penelope dragged me to the mall with her, and I thought it was perfect for you.”
“It’s beautiful,” you say, moving to fasten it around your neck, the only other thing adoring your body being your wedding ring. You grin at your husband as you duck down to press a kiss to his lips, half-conscious of the way he’s kicking his pants off until he’s flipped you onto your back.
He hums as you moan, “You’re beautiful. You’re so, so beautiful,” he muses, burying his face in your neck and placing soft kisses along the column of your throat.
Opening your legs more, you invite him to come closer into you, “I would have agreed to have another baby a long time ago had I known I’d be treated so well,” you tease him gently, gasping as his lips attach to your breast, littering kisses all over you.
“I always treat you well,” he insists, taking a tentative thrust into you before taking you into his arms.
You whimper softly at the pressure on your pussy, “Spence,” you sigh, your sensitive cunt clenching around his cock. “Oh, god yes,” you mutter as he begins to find a pace, pressing his full length into you.
He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “I know baby,” he says, sticking to his rhythm and pushing your legs open wider, “I’ve got you.”
A curse falls from your lips as you screw your eyes shut, tilting your head back and gasping at the sensation, “I love you,” you tell him.
“I love you too,” he says, equally out of breath with you as he fucks into you with abandon, chasing a new high as you dig your nails into his back. “You’re so good for me, baby,” he hisses, “I’m gonna cum in you,” he warns, snapping his hips to yours.
A high-pitched moan comes from you as he paints your insides with his cum, the sensation of him filling you leading you to your third orgasm of the night as your walls pulse around him.
The two of you stay like that for a moment, waiting for someone to catch their breath as your eyes go wide. “Are you alright?” Spencer’s the first to speak, carefully pulling out of you and chuckling lightly when you whine at the empty feeling.
Nodding, you turn your head to the side, “Yeah, are you?”
He smiles, “I think this might be the least boring birthday I’ve ever had.”
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tender-rosiey · 5 months ago
Note
hiii this is my first time requesting so i dont know how specific or vague i should get :,) but maybe a scenario between sukuna and reader on how their wedding ceramony(and maybe afterparty) went? i saw an edit of sukuna with lana del rey’s margaret and immediately thought you could write this scenario since all of your husband!sukuna works are chef’s kiss “:D
true oath — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works anon and I hope you like this as well 🥹 ALSO special thanks to @lexiene and @camelnose for beta-reading BIG HUGS TO BOTH OF YOU SRSLY MWUAHHH
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the servants scurry all around the room, trying to finish as much as possible in the time frame they have been given.
meanwhile, you are sat in front of your vanity with your personal maid who is putting the final touches to your makeup. you let out a soft giggle at the franticness of the others then look at the mirror to examine yourself.
the kimono had been handpicked by sukuna himself, something he believed was only logical—given that, according to him, nobody knows you as well as he does, and of course, that you’re getting married to him.
you thought he was being overconfident in his abilities, but to your surprise, he really did end up choosing something that—both—fit you well and you liked very much.
though, you wouldn’t tell him that. you wonder what his reaction would be to how you actually look in it, especially since you barely made him agree to not seeing you until the ceremony.
“no.”
“sukuna, come on,” you huffed, clinging onto his arms, “it’s a tradition!”
“I don’t care about traditions, you know that,” he replied simply and carried you in his arms.
you pouted and rested your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes, “please, honey?”
he looks at you for a few moments before clicking his tongue and looking away, “fine.”
“yay!”
you let out a chuckle at the memory and are interrupted by the door opening. the servant at the door is heavily panting as he speaks, “the l—lord demands to begin the ceremony right now.”
one of the maids looks at him incredulously, “what?! we still have much to prefer like the pathway to his highness and the food!”
the servant nods in understanding, “I know I swear,” he gulps, “but he is getting real impatient and has expressed the need to see her highness more than once.”
you roll your eyes and stand up, “well, tell him that we will be on our way.”
the main maid gasps, “but my lady—”
“don’t fret,” you smile, “if he asks about the unfinished tasks and preparations, I will tell him that you were working on it, but his insistence on speeding things up halted you from your duty, understood?”
they all nod hesitantly. you clap your hand and grin, “well then, lets go! I am excited to see my dear future husband.”
the maids smile nervously, still trying to come to terms with your marriage to sukuna. staying by his side as his lover is one thing, but to officially be declared his wife?
they have come to the conclusion that either you are as crazy as him underneath or you simply managed to tame him—to an extent at least.
you finally exit your room, and as you walk down the hallways, servants clear the way for you, bowing their heads as they offer you their blessings.
you look around the halls, finding them decorated with flowers already, so they are probably talking about the path in the main room.
the flowers are all of your choice, and it fills you with a sense of joy that each one that you pointed out on your outings with sukuna has been placed meticulously in the arrangement that litter the halls.
you slow down your pace, partially to soak in the view a bit more and partially to tease sukuna who is probably waiting with the last smidge of patience he can manage.
sukuna, who is sat on his throne, hand on his knee as he tapped it in waiting. he knows what you’re doing. you have always tried to test just how much you can get away with, which is admittedly a lot at this point.
for example, the first time you did something that he considered audacious is when you were strolling the gardens when you first came to the palace.
you were faced with sukuna who was stood in the place where you usually lounged.
it irked you cause he had the entire garden but chose the most secluded spot—which was usually where you sat so the servants can forget about doing any chores.
you frowned, “that is my spot.”
he quirked an eyebrow but didn’t look back at you. he let out a chuckle, “and this entire palace is mine.”
“nice try,” you quipped, “but I know the palace belongs to sukuna, the king of curses.”
at that, he turned to look at you. he leaned back against the tree, arms crossed and a cold stare on his face, “and who do you think I am, human?”
“oh—shit, okay,” you spluttered, “so you’re sukuna? you look more handsome than I thought.”
a smirked plays at the corner of his lips.
he didn’t reply to you, and you—rightfully—thought that you have dug your own grave. you started to shift your footing from your tip toes to your heel, and you looked away.
he stood up, an amused smile on his face, and he passed you, “I am expecting more from you, so don’t disappoint me.”
you tilted your head, watching his retreating figure. he had left one last comment, “but the next time I see you, I expect you to kneel at my presence.”
that was the moment that sukuna started wanting to see more of you, to see how far you could go. it was a new thing to amuse himself with, so it was more than welcome.
he just doesn’t know when it started being the other way around, because you, in fact, did not kneel.
instead, you started treating him like someone who you genuinely enjoyed their company, and it threw him off slightly; however, that is one of the reasons why he is currently waiting for you, his bride to appear.
the door finally opens, and it reveals you.
sukuna’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at how the kimono fit you exactly how he thought, how your make up was simply perfect, nor how the smile on your lips exuded both happiness and mischief.
what sukuna feels instead is booming pride.
you were always his, since the moment you entered the palace, before he even laid eyes on you. but this silly tradition simply solidifies it even more in the eyes of the others.
he smirks as you finally stand in front of him. you can barely contain your grin, “hello, future husband.”
he didn’t think that a tie to him would ever make somebody so joyed. he smirks at you, patting his lap, “you should know by now that I know you best, you silly woman.”
instantly, your expression falls, and you retort, “way to ruin the mood, king.”
amusement glints in his eyes, and he pulls you close to him, “don’t you ever get tired of giving me attitude? you ought to learn your place.”
“is it not by your side, my lord?” you hum, and he chuckles, content when you finally settle on his lap.
“damn audacious woman,” he looks up at the servants that fill the room.
they are all bowing, some trembling, others alienly still. then there is you who is swinging her feet as she sits on the lap of the king of curses.
he lets out a small breath then speaks loudly, “get the rings.”
in a moment, a servant comes in, carrying a cushion where two golden rings lay. your eyes widen at the sheer amount of patterns of gems on one of the rings.
the servant kneels in front of you two, and sukuna takes the ring decorated with gems in one hand and your hand in another. it slips perfectly onto your finger, and you raise your hand.
you feel your jaw slack a bit at how intricately made it is. and upon closer inspection, you see that one of the patterns is actually sukuna’s name.
you look up at him, and he is already looking at you with a small smirk and a confident look, “you should see the look on your face,” he muses.
he takes your hand into his and raises it slightly.
he examines it quietly before letting go. you blink confused but shrug the thought of your mind. you hold his hand in yours gently, and you put the ring on him.
his ring, contrary to yours, is a lot minimal. it’s a simple golden band, but what surprises you is that your name is etched on the surface.
“sukuna, my name…?”
he looks at the ring on his finger and flexes his hand. he looks at you simply says, “figured you would like something like this.”
you smile widely and giggle, “you know, people usually carve the name of the inside.”
“and I am not usual, am I?”
you nod gently and lean against his chest, “no, you’re not.”
you honestly didn’t know what to expect from a wedding ceremony in the ryomen sukuna “style”. however, sukuna was set on…standing out and making it a memorable event.
the room was flooded with servants carrying trays upon trays of food—all which you have noticed were your favorite—and dancers that put one of the most fascinating shows you’ve seen.
you gape at how they make their moves so effortless, which you can see through just how much practice was put into it.
you look at sukuna, and you seem him smirking down at you, clearly proud of the reaction the show has gotten out of you.
“how—how long have you been preparing for this?” you ask the man.
he glances at the dancers then replies, “6 months; I needed it to be perfect, and these humans take so long to learn things.”
“also, I know that the show I organized is great—“ he says before holding your chin and making you face him, “but that enamoured face should be directed at none other than me, got it?”
you nod frantically, not out of fear, but he is staring directly into your eyes in a way that simply is far too intense. he releases your chin, humming in satisfaction.
the dance finally comes to a close, and everybody in the room bows down to the both of you.
uraume speaks up from beside you—when did they get there—head held down humbly, “it is time for you to exchange vows, my lord and m’lady.”
vows? sukuna prepared vows?
tilting your head in confusion, you look at sukuna, and he is already looking at you. he rolls his eyes, “I didn’t prepare anything, brat; don’t get ahead of yourself.”
okay, that tracks. you give him a thumbs up.
but he is quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I have no need for that; all that you need to is that,” he leans closer to you, "you are mine, entirely and without exception, in every breath you take,” he spoke lowly against your lips, “I won’t let you forget that.”
he lets out a breath of amusement at the way your eyes widen and the glimmer behind them. he wastes no time in locking his lips with you, sealing your contract for life.
“wooo! I am married!” you say drunkenly, giggling and swaying slightly beside your now husband.
you whip your head back at him, almost falling in the process but his hand easily steadies you, “sukuna, I am married!”
“I know,” he replies, eyeing the empty cup that was full of sake. he hums, “uraume, what was the intensity in the sake?”
they both glance at you, standing on top of a table, babbling a kind of song about your marriage and being a queen now.
you nearly trip on the covers, but sukuna nods for uraume to stop your fall. they hold you up with one hand, maintaining a safe distance, so sukuna doesn’t get protective.
“high, my lord.”
you keep giggling and squealing, and he sighs, “certainly looks like it.”
he rests his chin on his palm, watching your figure run around and keeping an eye for you. however, in the corner of his eyes, he spots a couple of men staring at you, eyes full-blown and open.
it irks him that even after that display, they still dare to look at what belongs to him.
with minimal effort, he flicks his finger, and their heads go flying to the corner of the room. some of the blood splatters onto the floor, but he pays it no mind.
“ooo, red wine!”
“don’t you dare drink that, you stupid woman!”
after a while you find yourself laid down on the bed, head dazed as you try to make sense of your surroundings. you can hear a door closing, and some heavy footsteps getting closer and closer.
finally, your husband comes into view with his arms crossed. you pull on his sleeve gently, “what about the after-party?”
he sits down beside you, and you take the chance to lay your head on his lap. he allows it but grunts in response, “after-party with you all delirious like this?”
“I am fine!” you protest, huffing and giving him the most intimidating glare you can muster.
he simply flicks your forehead, and you yelp, shielding your face away from him, “you’re so rude!”
“pretty sure, you aren’t supposed to reply your king and husband like that,” he states. he squishes your face with one hand and quirks an eyebrow, “you’re testing your limits.”
“I don’t care!”
“oh?”
you note the change of tone almost instantly, and it is enough to sober you up.
you look up, wide-eyed at him, and on his face is a devious smirk, and behind his eyes are thoughts that are probably going to be the end of you tonight.
he leans down slightly, “I have a different kind of after-party in mind,” one of his hands trails to hold your wrist, “which I think you will quite like,” you try resisting for even a second, but you’re no match for him, “starting now.”
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ybklix · 5 months ago
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homewrecker!
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★ pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader x lee minho part two
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✦summary: The summer you thought would be boring, starts to become entertaining once you meet two beautiful mature men with whom you look forward to having fun for a while, Hwang Hyunjin and Lee Minho, whose perfect lives with wives and children become entangled in their own downfall as they fail to control themselves with your sweet and wicked game of seduction.
♡ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, bit angst, dilf hyunjin & minho, sub!hyunjin, dom!miho, cheating, age gap, sugar daddy, oral sex, masturbation, fingering, grinding, pet names (some dreg), kinks: breeding, daddy, unprotected sex, creampie, mention of spanking, slapping.
₊ ⊹ word count: 17.7k
masterlist - taglist ⭑.ᐟ
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ NOTES: nerd hyunjin from mountains mv as main inspo of his looks!!
miniplaylist: she by harry styles / cola by lana del rey / homewrecker by marina / older by isabel larosa
a/n: thinking about nerdy dilf hyunjin since this post of mine hehe & added minho for more fun lol EDIT: this extended too much, sorry, so I decided to split it in a part 2♡
divider by youre-ackermine
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Everything started in that summer, a messy and unforgettable summer where you explored lands of desire, madness, passion, and lust.
You never thought spending the summer at your older sister’s house with her newly formed family would be so much fun, you were in paradise, surrounded by attractive mature men who lost their sanity with your slightest affection and youth; Hwang Hyunjin as a private tutor, Lee Minho as your neighbor, two men whose mid-life crisis went off in a war against themselves by not knowing how to control themselves with your sweet and perverse game of flirting, which you were not going to stop until you obtained your goal, no matter obstacles in the way, like their perfect lives, families and wives, you just wanted to have some fun. You never took it seriously, just some good sex, until the circumstances changed, sometimes not always for good reasons…
It all started, to be exact, on a Friday afternoon when your older sister picked you up from one of your friend’s house, where you stayed after leaving your college dorm for the summer. To be honest, you had two options: go to your parents’ house in your small town for the break, where you would be forced to take any job, or spend it at your sister’s big new house with her very well-behaved 7-year-old stepson and her husband, who was offering you a chance to visit his workplace sometimes, which was more than a dream since Mr. Bahng was a well-known and respected prosecutor and would feed your knowledge in your degree. The second option sounded pretty good for you, plus you’d be very useful to Missy, your sister, by taking care of little Chase, Bahng Chan’s son, from time to time.
You didn’t see anything wrong with the situation, you adored your sister even though she was a few years older than you, you were best friends without a problem, so you knew you wouldn’t have a dull moment, at least not all the time. Missy met Bahng Chan when she was 24 and studying for her graduate degree, Chan was then, her professor, 32 years old, a year divorced with an also 1 year old son, somehow, they fell in love and, Missy who for her motherhood was not an option, had no plans to conceive or adopt, accepted Chan just like that. They dated for four years, you knew Chan since you were younger, he was absolutely part of the family; they finally married two years ago and just last summer Chan bought a house in one of the nicest neighborhoods, moving in with her and him, and on special occasions when he had full care of his son.
To everyone’s good fortune, Chase was an adorable little boy identical to Chan, causing your sister so much tenderness as she watched him grow up that even on a couple of occasions her mentality was altered by wanting to conceive Chan’s child. Still, Chase was a little nerd, he loved school, he was too smart, and at his young age he had a life plan to get into the best college in the country —which you knew it wouldn’t be hard for him, seeing the kind of influences and contacts his father had—, but everyone knew he could make it on his own merit; he was of course at the top of his class and school, active, he played sports, he had a love of technology and above all, he was pure and very well disciplined. Missy and Chan would have him all to themselves the entire summer.
“Well, welcome, you already know which room is yours, oh, I didn’t ask if you were hungry” spoke your sister, closing the large door behind her.
“Mmm, I don’t think you cooked anything” you jokingly replied.
“No, but you can order something" she replied obviously, playing along, “If you want I’ll pay for it.”
“Thank you, Miss, I’m fine for now. Where’s Chase?”
“Mmm… I think he’s in his room.”
You left your things in the extra room you were going to stay in and headed animatedly to greet the little boy. His door was already half open, so you decided to slowly walk in.
“Chaseee” you chirped.
You could hear the sounds of video games from his television and when you were finally inside you confirmed that it was little Chase playing, however, he was not alone. You saw the attractive back of a slender man with long black hair sitting on the boy’s bed. As soon as Chase jumped up to hug you, he turned around revealing an attractive clean face done to perfection, bushy straight eyebrows, sharp dark eyes, accompanied by rectangular glasses, a slightly prominent nose, and full lips. He smiled at you, his gaze and smile were warm, and he stood up from his place, putting the console aside and walking towards you.
“Hello, auntie Y/n” Chase greeted you adorably.
You were so engrossed in reading the man with your eyes that you barely noticed that Chase had paused his game to go over and hug you, you returned the gesture, still standing and only hunching your posture slightly to gently rest your arms on him.
“Hi, Chase” you greeted him animatedly, looking at him quickly and returning your gaze to the man, who now stood before you.
Up close he looked a little better. He dressed a little unusual, making him look a little nerdy, but something about his look and gaze radiated so much confidence as if he knew how incredibly handsome he was. His black hair was slicked back, leaving free little strands that fell gracefully towards his face, and he looked so young as his lightly tanned skin was so smooth, but at the same time, you could tell he was someone older than you. He was tall and his limbs were long, his arms, his fingers, his legs in those black pants of a washed-out denim, baggy on his body, a collared shirt of a soft, thick gray fabric with the designer’s name on the pocket detail, giving the appearance of wearing another button-down collared shirt of red and white grid patterns, watch on his wrist and a thin necklace decorating his slightly bare chest; he looked good, too good for your taste, it felt good just to look at him.
“Ah, Aunt Y/n, this is my Uncle Hyunjin” the little boy spoke again.
“Nice to meet you, Hwang Hyunjin” finally said the man in front of you.
He sounded young, and had a unique voice that rumbled inside you. He didn’t stop looking at you either, almost as if he was mesmerizing you as well. He extended his right hand, you saw his large limb before shaking it, enjoying his light squeeze.
“Nice to meet you, too” you replied, trying to hide your huge grin, smiling downwards.
“Ah, you must be Y/n, Missy’s little sister, right?” he was quick to say, to which you nodded, unable to speak, but you had to, something in your nature wanted to flirt with him, “I’m a close friend of Chan’s and I come here for a few days in the afternoons as a private tutor for Chase.”
Hyunjin thought in those moments that you were not so little after all, you were quite a young woman and he felt the need to explain to you what he was doing there, in fact he felt the need to talk to you, you were a fresh and pretty young woman, you sparked in him the curiosity to talk further; regret came later for him, as he read your subtle bright look, implying that you were also interested. Hyunjin was older and knew every move of the game perfectly, so he blinked suddenly, coming out of his trance as he recognized that you were beginning to arouse in him curiosity for another woman, when he was happily married for almost a decade to the love of his life and they had two beautiful children.
You didn’t know what to reply, your brain was working fast to respond instantly to the handsome man, Chan’s friend; however, the little boy interrupted.
“Oh yes, auntie Y/n, Uncle Hyunjin is the best, he teaches me physics and math and also loves computers. He’s a biomedical engineer with a PhD, don’t tell anyone but he’s my favorite uncle” Chase spoke quickly, impressing you that the whole academic area was very important to him at his young age.
Hyunjin laughed softly, lowering his gaze to look more tenderly at the boy with a very cute smile traced on his face, his cheeks lifted and his eyes narrowed more, you thought he was adorable too. Seconds later, before anyone else could speak, footsteps could be heard down the stairs and a booming, animated, “Heyy, mate, where are you my champ?” in Chan’s distinctive voice.
The man entered his son’s room with a huge smile narrowing his eyes, “There you are, my boy” he said happily, seeing his mini-me version of himself and his purest creation.
“Oh, hi, daddy!” ran Chase to hug him.
Chan squatted down to better embrace his son, looked up and said:
“Oh, hi everyone” Chan extended his hand, greeting you and Hyunjin, with a shy smile.
You smiled back, you had to admit that Chan was always a very attractive and well conserved man for his age, he was a good man, he loved his son, his wife and he had to wear a suit almost every day that looked great on his muscular body, no doubt they were both lucky, because your sister was extremely careful with her appearance and she was a dream, a prosperous and sexy woman in her thirties, childless and with a professional career.
“Alright, lil’ mate, enough video games, go play outside” Chan commented softly to Chase, watching his face tenderly and still holding him.
“Will you play with me, daddy?” he replied, eyes sparkling.
“How about you let me change my clothes and then I’ll go to play with you right away, okay? You can play with Hyunjin.”
Chan looked at him, stood up and Chase turned to look in the direction of the two of you.
“And with aunty Y/n, too!” exclaimed the little boy.
“Alright, she can play too” Chan replied in a tired sigh, loosening his tie more, making him look effortlessly attractive, “Go with Missy so she can put some sunscreen on you before you go out.”
“Oh, I can do it” you replied at once, to which Chan whispered a soundless thank you, leaving his son’s room.
And again you were alone with Hyunjin… and Chase. You were slightly nervous, you had never stood like that in front of a boy, but you thought it was perhaps because you were very sure that Hyunjin was not a boy, but a man and you had never witnessed such a unique beauty as his. Hyunjin placed his hands in his pockets, also wandering in his thoughts, distracting himself from thinking about you and waiting for you to finish putting sunscreen on the little boy.
But Hyunjin couldn’t help it, his problem was always that he imagined too much, he loved to do it, it was his gift and curse at the same time, he was a bit delusional and kept fantasizing about how old you were, if you had a boyfriend, what year of college you were in, what your major was; because all he knew about you so far was your name, that you were the little sister of the wife of one of his best friends and that you were studying at the university. But it felt so wrong to have an interest in another woman. Normally he is not like that, he’s kind of shy but he has to socialize in his work from now and then, and he does it with female colleagues, he asks them about their life, he eats with them together sometimes, with another of his colleagues, in his lunch break, he texts them without concern when it’s something work related, he wishes them happy birthday… but feeling interest in you somehow felt so heavy and so wrong to him… and he recognized deep down that it was because of the fact that he found you attractive, so those two things combined, just resulted in Hyunjin’s light flirting, something he hadn’t done in years, at least not to impress or get the attention of any woman other than his dearest and most beloved Yeji.
Hyunjin was a romantic, he could be a bit of a nerd but he loved living a glamorous life, money, travel and love; so he goes through life quietly, exploring and living all kinds of experiences and, he comes to recognize when another woman is beautiful to him, but then he just moves on, remembering that there is no one more beautiful than the woman who wakes up in his arms every day, but for him… feelings are extremely important, he lives on hunches and feelings… and something deep down inside him is hard for him or he thinks it will be, to just let it go just like that, getting rid of you.
You played a little soccer in the sunshine together with Chase and Hyunjin, but quit as soon as Chan joined them, exaggeratedly pretending to be exhausted and shouting ‘time out!’ over and over again, just to get out of the situation, making the two men laugh, and made Hyunjin find you adorable, thinking you had a very cute relationship with Chase. You weren’t like that with all the kids, most of the time you didn’t know how to treat them, except for Chan’s boy, who was someone very special and smart and you almost saw him grow up too.
You entered the house, heading to the kitchen for some water, you already knew the place very well, you had stayed there a couple of times, Chan always reminds you that you are more than welcome and you know the pure kindness of your brother-in-law in his actions and words.
You took a napkin to wipe the light sweat from your brow and stood there, enjoying your refreshing water and the coolness of the house from the air conditioning everywhere. But your tranquility was disturbed when you saw that Chan’s handsome friend also entered the kitchen, confidently grabbing orange juice from the refrigerator. He walked over to you without thinking, standing next to you, with his glass in hand and finally taking a sip of the juice.
You thought everything about him in seconds, as you watched him slyly do the deed: his long fingers intertwining in the glass cup making it small held by him, his eyes closing softly as he directed the glass to his plumpy lips, his long neck and Adam’s apple moving as he drank, the ends of his hair slightly damp with sweat, everything about him was wow, the scene passed so slowly, you wanted this man, you were so determined and pumped up, until something shiny dazzled all your hopes away. As he lowered the glass from his mouth you noticed a ring on his finger, an important ring that indicated he was a taken man, belonging to someone else.
Hyunjin didn’t notice or acknowledge your displeasure, so he just continued with his questions, with a slightly guilty but bright smile on his face, convincing himself that he only wanted to ask about you, out of kindness, and not because he was really interested…
“Mmm… and you came to visit Missy?”
You turned to stare at him, you couldn’t do it because it made you nervous, but at the same time you just wanted to watched him over and over, you were embarrassed because you had a million of not-so-nice thoughts about a married man. You thought you should have seen it coming, Chan is 38, and his friends should be around that age, but he... something about him still remained so young, but it was to be expected that a man that handsome in his thirties would be married, more so with that shy, nerdy look; but something about you wanted to read him as a mature man, single, living life by visiting the children of his friends who did have children… your brain spun around, thinking if Hyunjin had children too and who was the type of person waiting for him at home.
“Oh, something like that, but I’ll stay here for the summer if that’s what you’re asking” you replied, as normally as possible.
“Ah…I see” he couldn’t have been happier to know that there was a possibility of seeing you often, “I’ll be teaching a few days a week for Chase, like a summer course… I guess, I’ll see you around.”
His slight change in tone, his look… you couldn’t process the fact that he might be flirting with you. You decided to give him back his vibe, you knew it was wrong, unbelievably wrong and that you’d be internally calling yourself a slut for the rest of the week, but you leaned back slightly more comfortably on the edge of the kitchen counter, smiling:
“So… what are you doing here? I assume your work is hard.”
He released a chuckle.
“It is to those who don’t enjoy it. I’m head of the whole department so, that has its perks” he hissed softly and smugly.
Hyunjin licked his lips, smiling and checking you out completely, giving you chills and now without any doubt he was flirting with you. Once again he used a slightly smug tone as did his expression, you couldn’t believe it, your body temperature began to rise… no doubt this was a man telling you that he basically did what he wanted and that he was the one in charge.
“Oh, I see, biomedical engineer you said? Well… said little Chase, it must be very interesting, really.”
Hyunjin took another sip of his juice, finishing it completely, staring at you as he licked his lips again, this time less casually and more sensually, savoring every last taste of the sweet but sour juice.
“What’s your major?”
“Law” you wobbled softly in place, approaching him smoothly.
“Oh, just like Chan and your sister” he spoke interestedly, raising his eyebrows, to which you nodded, shyly, “What year are you in?”
“Third.”
“Ah, I see, you’ve been in college for a while now… at this point I want to assume you like it, huh.”
Hyunjin thought eighteen plus three, giving you the sweet age of 21, if you had already turned it, he thought what a very nice number, it seemed like a number that had no limits… you were free, young and beautiful, able to do anything. Or you could be 22, 23, either was fine for him, he felt comfortable talking to you.
You made a grimace, your mouth slightly pouting, a sign that you doubted it, which made him laugh, a laugh so cute that you almost forgot that he was a completely taken man.
“Well… I like it but it has its moments…”
“I guess it’s hard, you should never underestimate any major…” Hyunjin was just about to tell you something from him in college, but he held back, the last thing he wanted was for you to see him as an old man, as the age difference was slightly considerate, over a decade gap, that he was sure of, while you were playing and probably around Chase’s age, he was in college and dating his current wife, “But hey, I see you did great this semester, you’re already here relaxing a bit…”
You looked into his eyes the whole time, each time you were getting closer and closer until both of your bodies were getting tighter and tighter together, almost sticking your blouse in the waistband of his pants, it was as if you both enjoyed seeing each other. This time you looked at him, innocent, with shining bambi eyes, raising your gaze because he was taller than you, tilting your head and running your tongue along the inside of your cheek. Hyunjin had to resist, clenched his left fist, and almost fell to his knees, in pity; he had never seen, he thought, such bright eyes, such a unique gaze in which he could see his anguished reflection of a distressed older man grieving, eagerly wanting to take your young body and pin you against the wall, screaming and scolding you to stop looking at him like that just now or…. he could fall, he was doing it, his gaze lowered to your lips, shiny from the water you were drinking, he didn’t know what was wrong with him, he hated it, but the feeling of wanting someone was filling him again, suddenly he felt all his blood rushing through his body, he was so alive again.
You were about to talk, to ask him meaningless empty questions that you knew he would be compelled to answer you… because his worried expression spoke for itself. He was so frustrated you almost wanted to squeeze his soft cheeks, telling him he looks a little tender when he’s needy.
Thoughts were betraying Hyunjin so much, it was like his final day where a little devil was whispering all sorts of things in his ear, and the little angel on his other shoulder had completely abandoned him. His body tensed, if only you could read his thoughts… you might be able to judge how dirty he was. He felt filthy, a dirty married man lusting after a college girl, as if there was no other cliché.
You liked seeing him like that, you didn’t really do anything elaborate yet, you were perplexed to think it would work so fast, you just gave him your best innocent look asking for sex, your best fuck me eyes, and the man almost trembled in front of you. But you took it as a game, as much as you wanted to fulfill his every fantasy and whatever he was thinking, as much as you were dying to get down on your knees right there and give him a blowjob… he was married and god, you studied law you knew the huge controversy about adultery backwards and forwards, you couldn’t do it, even though something deep down inside tingled in you, besides your throbbing clit trapped in your panties.
Just as the thoughts were about to have a fatal effect on Hyunjin’s body, Chan and Chase interrupt you, breaking the tension and making you slide down the kitchen island to get away from the dangerous distance you were with Hyunjin.
“Daddy, let me sleep over at Suho’s house, please!” the boy exclaimed, entering the kitchen with his father in the back.
“Go wash up and get your things ready, I’ll talk to your Uncle Minho to tell him if you can stay.”
You and Hyunjin remained silent, Hyunjin pushed up his glasses with a single finger, nervous and agitated, with his hands resting on the counter, crestfallen and embarrassed, about to be caught doing something improper; you on your own part were calm, watching Hyunjin’s expression with amusement, he was almost on the verge of tears. He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of Chan who watched him with a raised eyebrow in confusion.
“I have to go” Hyunjin suddenly spoke, his voice thick.
Oh, it was just starting to get good and create tension, you thought, disappointed, but you were comforted to see Chan agitated and sweaty in a sleeveless shirt, his strong arms and veins detonating; you couldn’t help it, you were just a girl with judgment and critical thinking, you admired your sister for getting someone very handsome.
“Oh, sure, Hyunjin, see you later.”
“Ah, yeah sure” he started to say nervously, avoiding looking at you, “Let Chase know I left, see you in a bit with rest of the guys… Bye, Y/n” he mentioned again a little awkward and more shy.
You smiled at the idea that he was so hard to read, he was confident, but then suddenly seemed so shy and clumsy, anyway, you thought that whoever he was married to, they were so lucky to have Hwang Hyunjin every day, while you… had him for the moment, just slightly wrapped around your finger, but you were sure it was a little slip and burst of lust, that he would go home with his partner and try to forget it all.
And he left, that time being the first time you met Hwang Hyunjin, an afternoon that moved every part of his world and left him thinking until his thoughts became a headache. Finally, he did exactly what you thought, he wanted to evade the guilt and his near slip. He came home, being greeted by the greatest loves of his life, his two sons, four and two years old, and his wife, who sweetly asked him how it went at Chan’s house, kissed him, and told him she had his clothes ready to wear for the night out with his friends later, without the slightest idea of what happened. Hyunjin knew the millions of opportunities he almost had, and a lot of women approaching him, but he was more shy and did not pay attention to them, he only had eyes and heart for Yeji… But now, how did he explain himself. He almost cried, however, he decided to release all those feelings and frustration by trying to make love to his wife, without success, it was relatively early for the kids to sleep and they were not giving them enough privacy; Hyunjin then remembered… they had gone weeks without intimacy with Yeji and sex was very important to him, they used to be so active and sexual, always on top of each other… but now, the last sexual encounter with the love of his life was when he gave her oral sex one morning before their kids woke up. He loved her, every part of her was delicious to him, and he knew her like a map by heart… yet the most typical frustration of a man ached in the deepest part of his being, not having sex. That night Hyunjin cried in the shower, masturbating thinking of you, and got ready, feeling pathetic when he still had it all, he was handsome, young, successful, and above all, he had time to stop and do things right.
You, on the other hand, stayed in to watch a movie with Missy, both of you relaxing, until little Chase went to disturb your peace a little.
“I’m off to Suho’s house now,” he warned.
Missy grimaced slightly, not wanting to go drop the little one off at the Lee’s house.
“Won’t your daddy drop you off?” asked Missy softly.
“Daddy’s still getting ready.”
“Ahh, I see, Y/n, take him,” your sister ordered you, causing you to be a little awed, but you couldn’t say no to the tender wobbly silhouette of Chase, all ready with a backpack on his back that Chan helped him sort out, “It’s here with the neighbors on the left.”
You smiled at Chase and got up from the couch to join him, he hurried off, leaving Chan’s property and heading for his friend’s house. It was getting dark, but there was still some light. You were surprised to see the house, thinking damn, little Suho must have a lot of money, or at least his parents, you had never paid attention to the rest of the houses, besides most of them were private properties, like Chase’s friend’s, he animatedly told you the code in secret so the gate could open, giving the view of a mansion… you knew the neighborhood was exclusive and Chan’s house was impressive, but this one you saw was much better.
You both walked to the door, now you knew why Chase couldn’t go alone, it was a few minutes walk despite being neighbors. You rang the doorbell, waiting a little over a minute for them to open.
“Oh, aunt, you’ll really like Suho!”
“Oh, Chase, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay and meet him…”
And they opened, abruptly, another handsome man, wearing a sleeveless black shirt showing off his strong arms and marked pecs and abs. He looked at you confused, almost in a rude manner, blinking in disbelief not knowing what you were doing on his property since he didn’t know you. Shiny, smooth, straight black hair, perfectly styled, his features were so sharp, sharp straight nose, big round feline eyes and thins lips with his pronounced nasolabial furrow. You thought about how many attractive men you had to see today and, if it was possible it was your lucky day.
“Can I help you…?” he was about to say, somewhat annoyed, frowning and narrowing his eyes.
“Uncle Minho!” greeted Chase, causing the man to lower his gaze and his countenance softened completely.
Minho laughed, hiding his upper lip slightly and showing his teeth.
“Ah, it’s you little Chase, come in, Suho is in his playroom.”
Chase suddenly became shy of Minho’s presence and came in a little embarrassed, being more respectful and less animated, giving you a little wave goodbye, and leaving you and Minho alone. You didn’t know anything about him, you barely even knew his name because Chase mentioned it and he was starting to intimidate you as well, his presence was so heavy but pleasant, his big eyes… if he saw you properly, he could look so kind… but just now he looked a bit unfriendly; even Hyunjin could have a bit more the appearance of a villain, but you couldn’t see him like that, instead Minho, something about him was so overbearing.
“Ah, I came to drop Chase off, I’m Missy’s sister… have a nice night!” you smiled at him, not knowing what to say.
Now Minho found you tender, he had already been impressed when he opened the door and the first thing he saw, as he was in a hurry as if to check through the cameras who it was, was a young girl, with the background of the sky painting itself in colors as night fell, your image was like a divine revelation, like an angel knocking on his door, but he hid the feeling perfectly.
“Wait” he stopped you, a great idea came to him, and you turned around, “What will you do today?” he asked suddenly.
You didn’t know how to answer, to which he continued, “Ah, it’s just that… would you mind watching Chase and Suho for a moment? And… a little girl. It’s just that my wife and I have to go out…”
You felt your luck crumble once you heard him say he had a wife, although of him you were ready any time he mentioned it, something about him was so domestic, it was obvious, to you, that he screamed husband material. Besides… a mansion to have it by himself with his son didn’t sit very well with you. Now you understood that it was about him, his wife and two children, Sunho and a girl.
“Do you want me to tell Chan or Missy to see if they agree or…?” he spoke again when he got no answer,
“Oh no, it’s okay, sure, I’ll do it.”
He smiled broadly, looking incredibly attractive, you didn’t know if you liked Hyunjin or Minho more, either one, it was a forbidden little crush, that you hoped wouldn’t pass into anything more than from your own thoughts, you weren’t that crazy and cynical, right?
“Thank you! It’ll only be a couple of hours. I’ll pay you, obviously” he said letting you in to which you nodded and entered, “Suho!!! Come here” he shouted, scaring you a little, being all fatherly, “What did you say your name was?” he asked you softly in contrast to his previous shout, standing next to you.
“Y/n.”
Minho looked you straight in the eyes and nodded, within seconds Suho and Chase appeared in front of you, and your nephew smiled happily at you waiting for the news.
“Y/n is going to take care of you tonight. Be good boys and take care of yourselves and obey her” said Minho in a serious tone to which they nodded animatedly.
You observed Suho for the first time, he was so similar to Minho, but at the same time, there were some slight differences to him.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Lee Suho” the little guy introduced himself so politely, causing you so much tenderness.
“Nice to meet you, Suho” you said with a smile.
Minho looked at you tenderly, and you deciphered that this was Lee Minho; he hadn’t even introduced himself and you had already said yes so he and his wife could have their moment.
“Go back to the playroom, Y/n will be right there in a minute” he warned, coming out of his trance, you liked hearing him say your name, “I’ll take you to meet Minji, she’s one year old, she’s so smart for her age” Minho spoke adoringly.
He guided you to what seemed to be her room, it was pink but still looked a bit sophisticated for a little girl’s, there were slight elements that gave you hints that it was a little girl’s room; you were impressed in every corner you knew of that house. As you entered you saw a slender woman playing with the little girl, both sitting on the floor.
“Park Suji” Minho spoke to her, a little coldly, catching the woman’s attention.
You noticed how he didn’t refer to her as Lee.
The woman turned around, causing you to finally see her fully and your jaw almost dropped to the floor, internally as on the outside you didn’t react. It was none other than Park Suji, one of the most recognized and highest paid actresses and celebrities, her face was everywhere, it was known that she was married and had two children, but she was extremely careful with her image and kept everything private, the world was dying to know what her children and husband looked like, everyone speculated that she had married a billionaire, but to her fortune, it was the handsome Lee Minho as her husband.
Suji looked at you both expressionlessly, waiting for Minho to speak.
“I got you a temporary babysitter, just for today, she’s Y/n, she won’t say anything, she’s Chan’s wife's sister” Minho explained himself a little frustrated.
Suji smiled broadly, finally hearing good news, she carried the girl and walked quickly in the direction of her husband.
“Thank you so much, honey, I knew you would, I love you,” she replied happily, giving Minho a kiss on the cheek, “Can you take care of Minji? I have to finish getting ready.”
Minho carefully carried his little girl, smiling at her instantly, Minho’s big eyes suddenly shone in adoration, seeing the baby return the gesture of happiness. You looked for brief seconds at Suji, she was so beautiful in person, she made a great pair with Minho, the two of them looked so fucking good together, you didn’t understand why Suji didn’t show him off to the world.
“Hey, my baby, she’s your newest friend, Y/n” Minho baby-talked, consumed with tenderness, making him press his lips together, gently squeezing her chubby arms.
You looked at him fondly, after being intimidating to you, seeing his soft side just because of his little daughter made you tender. Plus he looked fucking handsome with his big bare arms.
“As you can see, my life with Suji is very private, I really want to trust you that you won’t share any information, our children’s names, their appearances, ages…” Minho suddenly spoke seriously, his voice cutting and thick, returning to his intimidating self.
You shook quickly, “Oh, yes, I understand, Mr. Lee” you replied somewhat submissive and scared, making him smile sideways.
“Well, they’re all yours” he said, trying to pass you the little one to hold, but she objected mumbling a soft daddy, “Daddy will play with you, okay? I’ll bring Soonie to you, you want to see Soonie?” you held the little girl finally as she babbled a tiny Soonie, “I have three cats, they’re running around all over the house, I hope you’re not allergic. Well, I’ll finish getting ready and come say goodbye in a moment.”
Minho left in a hurry, leaving you stranded with his little girl in your arms, the little girl was calm and somewhat quiet with a stuffed animal in her arms, you saw her up close, she was completely the female version of Minho.
You didn’t know what to do, it was a bit easy to get lost in the house you didn’t know, but you went to Suho’s playroom, where at first he joked about being a girl-free space and minutes later he started having fun with his sister, who was running and shouting his name over and over again. Then you heard a shout from Minho, calling Suho back, he ran out, alerting him that we were all in his playroom.
Minho walked in, taking your breath away, he looked so casually dressed. He added a leather jacket on top of black sleeveless shirt, silver chains and necklaces with his light blue jeans.
“Okay, you know the emergency numbers and I’ll leave you mine just in case. I’ll be right back.” Minho addressed you.
“Daddy, did mommy leave too?” Suho asked him.
“Didn’t she say goodbye to you?”
Suho softly shook his head with a slight pout and wide eyes, to which you caught a glimpse of Minho annoyed, sighing and rolling his eyes almost disappointed. You passed your cell phone to Minho to type in his number a little nervously, you booked it as Lee Minho. He typed quickly on your cell phone and passed it to you; saying goodbye to all the kids with affection and goodbye to you with a gentle see you later.
Hours passed, you talked to your sister about how you got caught and you couldn’t say no, she laughed and joked about how Chan’s friends were all dilf’s. You gossiped with her a bit, having a celebrity as a neighbor, to which Missy told you that Minho works in an extremely famous entertainment company, which Suji is a part of and from there their love story began.
As it got later in the night you gave them dinner because Suho suddenly wanted pizza, hesitantly you asked Minho by message what his kids were eating, you didn’t want to bother him, but he immediately replied that it was okay to order pizza for the boys, as long as Suji didn’t notice, as she apparently had a healthy diet specifically for their kids; he only helped you a little by telling you what to feed little Minji. Finally getting ready for bed both children, six-year-old Suho, and 7-year-old Chase, completely independent in their routines, put on their pajamas, brushed their teeth, and went to sleep. The real challenge was little Minji who suddenly started crying, you didn’t know what to do, her diaper was clean, she had no fever, and she had eaten well… you were scared for a while, until you put cartoons on her and she managed to calm down little by little, leaning her little body on yours on the couch, where you both fell completely asleep.
You lost track of time and a manly voice calling your name softly woke you up, startling you a little, and the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Minho’s attractive face looking at you carefully and closely. Once you woke up, he pulled away a little, and you felt embarrassed to realize that you had his little daughter cuddled up, sleeping next to you on the couch, thinking what a good job it was to have left her in her comfy bed, but the TV was still playing cartoons.
“Oh, Mr. Lee, I’m sor-”
“It’s okay, I arrived a little later than expected, sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, a little frustrated, you wised up, noticing a relaxed expression on his face and his drooping eyelids, “I imagine Suji hasn’t arrived, right?” this time he slurred his words a little but did his best to sound aligned, you shook and a displeased expression reappeared, “It’s okay, let me take Minji to bed and I’ll come back to you.”
Minho approached his daughter, who whimpered softly as she was moved but instantly recognized her daddy’s strong arms. You were restless waiting, it was almost 3 a.m. and you wanted to sleep. He returned after a few short minutes.
“Did the kids behave well?” he said as he returned, to which you just nodded.
Minho suddenly moaned in a soft groan, “Agh, I drank too much. Y/n, it’s late, do you want to sleep over in the guest room or shall I walk you to Chan’s house? He’s there, we just arrived.”
He stared into your eyes, you felt like a little girl changing houses. Suddenly, the not-so-nice thoughts appeared in your head but now with Minho.
“Will you be alright in the morning?” you mentioned somewhat sheepishly, as you noticed he did look a little drunk.
Minho smiled, “Of course I will.”
“I… I can go to Chan’s house by myself, it’s just a few minutes away…”
He shook his head disapprovingly softly, “Come on, I’ll walk you quickly, everyone’s asleep.”
You made a very good impression on Minho the first time he met you, he thought at least for a few minutes in totality, about you, but then stopped as he got distracted and told himself he has better things to think about. And you, in those short minutes when he walked by your side, you saw him slyly, his hair shone under the light poles illuminating the street and the road, something about him was very different from Hyunjin, as much as you wanted to flirt with him, something stopped you and it wasn’t exactly morals and ethics.
That meeting Minho had with his friends had been chaotic and he learned slightly more about you, when Hyunjin suddenly brought the topic of conversation to the table, you… causing Minho to be immeasurably curious as to how it was that you knew Hyunjin and why you met him before him. Later Hyunjin realized that you were texting each other as you babysat Minho’s children, making a slightly inebriated Hyunjin think about hiring your services as soon as possible just to see you longer.
He finally left you at the door, where he quickly pulled out his wallet to pay you for your very unexpected service. You didn’t know how much a babysitter earned for a night, but you were sure that the amount he was giving you was a bit exaggerated, you tried to tell him, but he refused and before you both could say more, an also slightly drunk Chan opened the door.
“Ah, there you are, Y/n, come in. Goodbye, Minho” you turned to see him, unable to say thank you as Chan had closed the door.
“Sweet dreams” he wished you, leaving with tired steps to his room.
That was the time you met Lee Minho for the first time. There was no need for your intervention for him to start doubting his wife, he had been doing it for months, since Minji was born they started to have problems since Suji always wanted only one child; Minho agreed since it was her body and they would make a nice family anyway, but there was a time when Minho mentioned how much he wished for two since he grew up a bit lonely being an only child and always wondered how it felt to have a real sibling, Suji did not take it seriously and by an accident, she became pregnant with Minji, after four arduous years of taking care of herself after Suho’s birth, however, she did not tell anyone about her pregnancy and was planning on having an abortion, she was already contacting her manager to schedule doctor’s appointments, but that afternoon after taking the pregnancy test, her sister came into her bathroom to find it and getting excited, she congratulated Minho without a second thought. He found out while he was at work and ran to his wife to ask her what was going on, she told him that she refused to keep them, she was about to start filming a show and didn’t want to feel pregnant. Minho had to put up with it and let her do what she wanted, he knew perfectly well that she was not going to listen to him, she was not going to listen to him when he said how much he dreamed of feeling another little one in his arms again and being there for her at any moment, but to Suji’s bad luck, her sister had already told her parents, she was so genuinely happy that she could not contain herself, so Suji, out of intense love and respect for her conservative and religious parents, kept the fetus, but she really didn’t want to, arguing that her body would be deformed, that she was already in a critical situation being in her thirties, that one more pregnancy and birth would destroy her career.
But Suji’s problem was never with Minji, she loved and loves her creation resulting from her loins, sweat and pain… but somehow she took it out on Minho, resulting in endless fights and an incredible lack of communication. Minho didn’t understand, he loved her with a fierce passion… but since Minji’s pregnancy she stopped being the one he loved.
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But after the anguish and pain, a fatal relief came to the tormented souls of those two men. A relief so beautifully short-lived, the first time they both tasted the forbidden fruit, and the first sinner to commit the heinous act of adultery was Hwang Hyunjin.
After a week of getting to know each other, of flirting with him when no one was around, of talking and talking endlessly with certain guilty looks of desire, that’s when it all fell apart. One Saturday, when you let yourself get carried away with pleasure without thinking about the horrible consequences of your actions.
Missy informed you a day before that she would have her first meeting with the wives of their respective husbands, of Chan’s friends and that she felt happy and included, as a new woman; she mentioned that they accepted the invitation and that it was probably only because she was married to Chan and she would invite his close friends with their families. Missy invited you too and you couldn’t deny the opportunity to host a gathering full of mature and incredibly hot men of their ages. You couldn’t deny it, ever since you met Hyunjin, and from time to time talked to Minho, your mind was racing with thoughts of having a taste for men who were older. You fantasized about how experienced they must be, the way they must move, your thoughts made your legs go limp.
And it all happened the next day, when you did your best to dress slightly elegant but casual knowing the kind of people you were going to see, like Minho’s superstar wife and a few other rich women. Finally, the perfect families arrived, at least some perfect in appearance, the Hwang family, Lee, and one more, the small Han family of childless newlyweds. And then Missy and you showed up, whose women internally judged both of you to be the youngest of them all and not so much in keeping with their group, somehow. They thought for a few seconds that you were like some sort of dolls, two bimbos designed to make men happy but not enough to take you seriously enough to marry you.
You saw Hyunjin arrive with his wife and two children with his same slitted eyes and something inside you died. You had to stop, you couldn’t start creating more temptation in him, flirting with him felt so much worse. You met Yeji, a beautiful woman with long straight hair, dyed light brown color, she was also incredibly gorgeous, you even stopped understanding the reason why Hyunjin would even fantasize about you, having someone like her every day.
Then the Lee family appeared, with Suji’s perfect, clean-cut appearance. To be honest, you hadn’t flirted with Minho since, besides the fact that you hardly saw him often, you didn’t think Minho was an easy target, something about him made you extremely nervous, sometimes he looked at you normally, sometimes softly with slight sweetness but there were also times when he was so intimidating.
And lastly, Han Jisung, you didn’t know him that well, he looked slightly younger than the rest but his face was so mature, as was his soft and deep voice; he was accompanied by his young wife and they had just married in the spring.
The children were playing in the huge Chan’s yard, the women were sitting in a shaded area, ready to be served by their husbands… And you, you were there as an outsider, being the youngest of the group, not belonging to any man who was cooking, unless of course if thoughts spoke, you would mentally be Hyunjin’s property, he drove you crazy, he was so witty and nerdy that you wanted to do so many things to him.. and deep down, only with this one you had a harder time accepting it since you knew his kids, he was Minho’s, fuck, you would do anything just for a little touch from Minho, he was unbelievably hot and his sex appeal was undescribable. Something about those two men made you super horny and you were sick of holding back.
So, you just watched them secretly, between complicit glances, of which Hyunjin returned each one of them, however, Minho was taking care of Minji, while Yeji was taking care of her youngest two-year-old —at the same time not taking her eyes off her other son playing with Chase and Suho—, whose adorable little boy with the same face as his father was sitting nicely still on his mother’s lap. He was so quiet and adorable, you definitely felt so guilty sleeping with his daddy.
Yeji called Hyunjin to come over, telling him if he could please bring her Yoojin’s favorite toy, the youngest boy of them, which he had forgotten in the car and the adorable boy was starting to get restless for his toy and, while Hyunjin was there, he couldn’t help but overhear the conversation, the typical question of one of them asking you if you had a boyfriend, if there was some one interesting in your college, if you saw yourself formalizing with someone; Hyunjin suddenly felt jealous but was comforted to know that you didn’t have a boyfriend and thought that he could treat you better than any other immature boy of your age.
You for yourself felt stupidly bad about the obvious closeness of him and his wife, you didn’t know what was wrong with you, you knew it was pathetic and illogical to feel this way and that you needed a really good reality check, that your silly fantasies were not going to be fulfilled and that you were getting carried away with a married man with children.
You watched them play, endearing and making you feel miserable, Hyunjin and Yeji, smiling in the grass, with Yoojin and Yoohyun, the little boy and big brother. You felt a little listless and slowly walked into the house, not wanting to see anyone, not having the slightest idea that your image hadn’t faded Hyunjin and Minho’s mind and thoughts.
You sat on a couch in the living room, checked your cell phone uninterested thinking that you had worn your very nice and elegant sundress, had done your hair and makeup to… impress men out of your limits. You wanted to laugh at yourself, you really did, but a part of you seriously needed to try at least one of them or you felt like you were going to die, besides… you just wanted some sex, it wasn’t like you were looking to snatch their love for their wives.
You sighed in frustration, you were seriously about to text a guy your age from one of your classes just so you could see each other and please you, you had sex a couple of times, and at least this time you could imagine it was Hyunjin or Minho filling your pussy. You were really about to message him, you were in his chat trying to decipher the perfect message, but a bigger mistake suddenly appeared.
“Why that face?” a voice you knew so well spoke you softly.
He had managed to sneak away and searched for you until he found you, sitting looking like a beautiful little doll in your short dress. You looked up, meeting Hyunjin’s long physique, your gaze swept from his thighs to his face which had an adorable smile on it. However your eyes stopped for a second on his crotch, whose bulge in his jeans was so visible and wasn’t even hard, you salivated, thinking about how incredibly big his cock must be, causing you to shiver as it excited you a little.
Hyunjin adjusted his glasses and sat down next to you, so close to you that your thighs touched the denim of his pants. You raised your shoulders with a little pout, Hyunjin found you so cute, he wanted to rub his whole cock on your face, he had never felt such a big sexual appetite as just now, he wanted to satiate all his desires and satiate you, the magnetism of your bodies was incredible.
“I don’t know” you replied nonchalantly, you now being the one to divert your thoughts, he was married and his wife was out with their children, it wasn’t fair, “There are a lot of people out there.”
He laughed incredulously, not taking his eyes off you.
“Adults outside bore you a bit, don’t they?” he asked in an amused tone.
You nodded softly, watching him and downplaying it and trying to calm the small fire that lit your insides, you needed him so badly that you lowered your gaze to your thighs, unable to cease your thoughts and emotions.
“Then let’s have some fun, I’m a little bored too” he whispered to you so seductively that he caught your attention quickly and you found him licking his lips, you watched him raptly, as if you had imagined his phrase, but no, “What do you guys do nowadays for fun?” he purred, completely aroused and, a little hesitantly, he placed his large hand on your bare thigh, squeezing it gently.
You saw his hand and then you saw him. You couldn’t say no, you could, but you didn’t want to. You wanted every inch of him making you smile like you never had before.
Just this once, you promised and prayed, just this once you will have sex with someone married, you thought as you swore in vain, you hoped you would be forgiven and never caught.
“Would you like to know my kind of fun?” you smiled broadly.
Hyunjin nodded frantically, stroking your thigh; his cock throbbed in his pants within seconds of touching you, your soft, smooth skin, you looked so angelic to him that he could get down on his knees and make you his new religion, he needed you, he could eat you day and night, he couldn’t even organize his thoughts. He had lost himself, he never thought he could control his lust and put it over everything and everyone. He moved his hand up, closer and closer until he approached your center, feeling in him a rush of adrenaline, as if he was about to reach a goal that he exahusively determined to reach. You watched him, every limb of his manly body, weak, taut and yielding in sex, his bulge grew, his eyes sparkled… he was a new man, ready to fuck.
“But let’s do it somewhere else” you tried to say.
You were so weak too, you were a young woman about to fulfill her fantasy, it was obvious that your body was vibrating with excitement.
You stood up, your pussy was soaking wet and he barely caressed your thigh. You led him to your room, in such a fugitive and manic way, checking that there was absolutely no one inside the house who could see you enter the same room. Walking so excitedly feeling your sticky folds with every step you took. And wasting no time, once you locked the door, you raised your gaze, Hyunjin watched you with his sharp dark eyes as if he was catching his prey, with a smug smile on his face and in timid steps he approached your body, until he joined your body to his completely, finally catching your lips so passionately and desperately.
Hyunjin held you from your lower back sticking you to his body and performing the dirtiest and most atrocious act ever committed in his entire life, an adulterous relationship, an affair outside of his matrinomy, but the dirty man didn’t think for a second about all the life he led and built with hard work and love around the years, he was crazy but only his brain was working to think of you and the throbbing pain in his crotch from his well erect member.
You tried to keep up with his rhythm, his lips felt just as you had imagined them, soft and fluffy, and he kissed with such skill that it was a little hard for you to keep up with him but you enjoyed every second of the act, of his big hands lifting your dress to squeeze your ass, his erection colliding with your body and his face attached to yours to the point of feeling his glasses bump into your face, everything about him made you so horny and you couldn’t believe it was happening. His attacked somehow slow and romantic kisses continued, satisfying the inside of your mouth to perfection until surrendering in breathlessness, yet he kept depositing little pecks on your lips, so lost in you, every part of you that he wanted so much, finally for himself.
Slowly, Hyunjin opened his eyes again to pleasantly meet your face, smiling at it in a mischievous way and almost immediately, you got down on your knees, impressing him a little and making him eager to know exactly what you were about to do, he never wanted you to stop.
Both bodies were tense, lewd and full of sin in a spiritual context, surrounded by evil and lust, both bodies engulfed in flames ready to unburden their darkest secrets on that bright summer afternoon.
You licked your lips, two of your very important organs throbbing in pleasure for the forbidden, your heart protruding from your chest and your pussy getting more and more lubricated, you watched him with feigned innocence behind your not virgin eyes and unbuckled his belt, and the tedious button and zipper that blocked you from tasting your new favorite food, you were so hungry for his cock that you thought you would explode with excitement. You swallowed nervously at the sight of a big size still in his boxers and, finally you could take it raw in your hands, making Hyunjin let out a soft whimper.
“Fuck, play with my cock as much as you want, baby, please” Hyunjin whimpered needily, stroking your face and hair delicately.
His comment coming from the deepest part of his darkest desires sent an electrifying shock to your sensitive spot of your needy femininity, which was begging for some spoiling as well. Hyunjin was lost, he wanted to take you, to see what he swore would be the most delicious and pretty pussy his eyes had ever seen, so shiny and dripping for him, but an unknown force was taking over his fragile body and it wasn’t exactly guilt, it was something inexplicable that he let himself be carried away by every single thing you decide to do, he was for you and by you, absolutely devoted.
You looked at his erect and throbbing shaft between your two hands, thinking it was obvious you’d have too much fun, Hyunjin was ridiculously big, long like the rest of his limbs; you didn’t wait to play with his entire length, unable to believe he was hiding such an amazing cock under his tender and nerdy appearance, sometimes a bit of a loser.
You wanted to rub your whole pussy on his cock, it really impressed you, you had never seen one this big, but you just limited yourself to masturbating him, with trembling hands palpating every corner of his sex, from carefully and gently squishing his balls while resting his tip leaking precum in your tongue with your mouth open.
“Do you like it, Mr. Hwang?”
Hyunjin sighed and nodded, so excited by the formal way you spoke to him, even though you know he likes to be called simply Hyunjin.
“Ye-es, please keep doing it.”
He was so desperate for the moment he didn’t even know where to place his hands, he looked first timer, he felt first timer, like he was doing it for the first time and his cock was getting to know the feeling of a warm cavity to please him. He forgot the last time his wife had blown him, he was so hormonal and needy, but just radiating delicious, masculine pheromones that made you lose your mind. Tasting a man’s sweet, big cock, you felt so fulfilled. His hands found your hair again and you began to suck him hard, squeezing your cheeks so he could feel the softness of your mouth. Hyunjin trembled, so close to his orgasm as you teased him to the limit.
You continued more confidently, licking his entire length, moistening it to dirty slurping sounds on it, teasing his needy, squirting, pink glans, until you took his cock again, wrapping your lips around it, struggling to get it deep into your mouth.
Hyunjin whimpered, babbling your name, his every energy was focused on his cock and as he felt you sucking him at an exquisite pace, bobbing your head all over his cock, it was doom for him, you were doing it so well he had to throw his head back panting “Fuck.”
Hyunjin bit his lip, holding back his moans and watching you take his cock so well he grabbed more of your hair into a sort of ponytail to gently push you in, he didn’t want you to take your lips off his cock, his pumping sex hadn’t felt this good in a while, all of him came alive again.
“Fffuck, mmm baby, I’m gonna cum, you’re sucking it so good, oh my god.”
You would have liked his cock to fuck your throat, but you didn’t want to hurt yourself, he was so big you just wished he would use his big gift for good, and so he could keep fucking you, you wanted him so bad.
You sucked harder, masturbating the rest of his length, you were so turned on you thought about bringing one of your hands up to your pussy to attend to it a little. Hyunjin gasped in exasperation and cum all the way into your mouth. Saliva and his cum started coming out of your gob and you pulled his cock out of your mouth for a few shots to stain your chin making you smile broadly. Hyunjn was so full that he wanted to keep fucking you until you pumped him dry, no kidding, he wanted to be completely yours.
Hyunjin was ready to continue with you but the sound of his cell phone indicating a call in his pants pocket that lay lowered halfway down his legs startled you both. He snapped back to reality, he had loved the way you had done it and would pray for it to be repeated again and again… but you weren’t alone, there were people outside, waiting for you, and his family was one of them. Hyunjin nimbly pulled up his underwear and pants, adjusting his big cock and verifying that indeed his call was from his wife.
You stood up, somewhat confused, to which he leaned close to your ear to whisper:
“I’m sorry I didn’t make you cum, next time I’ll make sure to take care of you, okay?”
Next time… you thought.
Hyujin was about to leave, but shyly asked you if you could let him know there was no one there, you did, telling him there was no one around so he walked out of there, leaving you with your heart racing and incredibly aroused, you couldn’t calm down, you were so frustrated you had to play alone a little with your pussy until you made yourself cum with your own fingers.
Hyunjin felt dirty and guilty, but you made him see stars and now he was addicted to you. He just hoped he didn’t look so agitated.
On the way, Hyunjin met Minho, who was looking for you since your sister asked for you and he offered to do so, without any objection, however he met a nervous Hyunjin who strangely denied in a heavy manner to have seen you and left, leaving Minho blinking in confusion and came to your room, where he was about to knock on your door and call your name, but sweet somewhat strange and compromising sounds awakened something in him all of a sudden. You were moaning softly, holding back the sounds as you filled your pussy with your fingers, fantasizing about being touched by someone else, fantasizing that it was Hyujin and his big cock, you were so damn horny that you couldn’t calm down, you only got more aroused and prolonged your orgasm more.
Minho could decipher that your sounds were sexual and his mind went off in all possible scenarios, just like Hyunjin, he hadn’t gotten good sex in a while…
You on your hand, kept playing with your whole vulva, caressing and penetrating your slick entrance while thinking and thinking… putting yourself in his wife’s place, thinking that if you would have a hot husband and a promiscuous college girl managed to seduce him you would surely cut his penis in his sleep, but shit, it’s just that Hwang Hyunjin? you didn’t want him to waste his amazing size by not using it, you could take care of him.
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Your second atrocious and immoral act, was attributed to Lee Minho. You couldn’t deny it, the damage was already done, you already felt like a dirty slut and you might go to hell but the taste and feeling of Hyunjin’s big cock struggling to enter your cavity was not taken away from you by anyone.
A little secret didn’t hurt anyone if it was taken to the grave, right?
Ever since Minho heard you moan like a dirty needy little slut, or so he thought, every aspect he had of you changed, before he saw you as the pretty girl who was somehow Chan’s family and rarely thought of you, like when he felt lonely at times of the day, he would start thinking about what a young girl like you would do, oh, but after that afternoon, the sweet sounds of pleasure from your mouth made him so hard that he had to go off to work it out on his own, thinking it was unfair the way you left him and that you had to be even. That day he wanted to break down your door to fuck you right there.
Chan was giving you opportunities to visit his office to see a few cases and it just so happened that the big entertainment company that Chan also works for and of course, Minho does there too, was across the long avenues, but were basically across the street from each other.
It was strange, but suddenly Minho started visiting Chan more, hoping to find you there and when he did, he would take the opportunity to flirt with you in his unique way, which worked very well for you, you liked Minho so much but wanted to deny it.
Minho was more… you couldn’t explain it but he was more different, in fact he was so different from Hyunjin. Minho despite being rich liked to live a simple life and enjoyed the little things, it was as if being a father and being in a house suited him so well, he was such an old man. But he also had fantasies and liked to have a little fun, in fact he loved to tease people, which he started to do and you didn’t know how to act at first, maybe you were quite intimidated by the fact that his wife was literally a superstar, yet that didn’t stop him so that one afternoon when he seemed friendly and happy, he talked to you and as fate would have it, Chan stepped out for a brief moment, leaving you and Minho alone, so he began to tell you what he did at work and how he was also a professional choreographer and dancer, impressing you but justifying his maintained appearance and body.
He started joking with you, which made you feel good, his smile was adorable and you could melt right there just listening to his laugh. Minho started talking to you about a supposed new choreography which he invented and…. one second it was laughter and games and the next it became completely serious, as he suddenly stood behind you, holding your waist and placing his face next to yours, Minho had never touched you before because there was no need to. Your body tensed and your breathing momentarily cut off.
“And I’ve told the boys to take their work very seriously, dancing can leave them exhausted at times” Minho whispered close to you.
You found it meaningless what he had said, what did that have to do with him touching you, lowering one of his hands to your ass and the other near your pussy, but you didn’t complain.
“I had to tell them that in order to find themselves in such a sensual dance, they should start doing sensual things too…”
You were transfixed at his touch, he moved his body closer until you finally felt the touch of his cock as he was wearing loose shorts that clung a bit to his body, at least in his exquisite crotch.
You didn’t say anything, you just enjoyed the moment and how your body was struggling to keep up, but you were beginning to get hopelessly aroused.
“But me… who can help me with that, to give them my best too…”
Minho squeezed your pussy, surprising you, his whole hand under your femininity over your jeans. You collapsed, losing yourself, but before you could react, he pulled away from you abruptly.
“And well I also told them that creating some good tension on stage might be good for them by having the audience hooked on their movements” Minho spoke more relaxed, as if nothing had happened, almost in a mocking tone.
You turned to look at him, distressed. Minho had a haughty smile on his face and laughed softly in such amusement, naughtily running his tongue across his lips, but you didn’t find it funny, you found it ridiculous the way he had to approach and touch you, or so you wanted to feel as you were pathetically horny, screaming for sex from a mature, married man. Again, from a new man.
He saw your expression, so tenderly needy with eyes begging him to touch you again. He found it amusing and got even with you by letting him masturbate in the bathroom that day at Chan’s house. However, your expression… drove him crazy, he wanted to fuck you so hard until your pleading look is genuine, until you are covered in tears and in his cum. The thought made his cock twitch in despair.
“Minho…” you whispered, seeing his face and body in his snug, comfortable, sporty clothes.
His expression changed, giving you a dirty look, “Minho? Address me with respect, I’m older than you, kid.”
His authoritative tone and annoyed expression shouldn't have excited you so much, but it did, almost weakening your legs. Before he acted, however, Chan arrived.
And the next day it really happened, when you used the old technique of a slightly provocative outfit, getting all dolled up and thinking that if that worked on Minho it would be funny if he fell for the most typical and obvious, but you had to resort to that, you didn’t know how to approach him properly, when in fact you shouldn’t even do it.
But you were dying for a taste of Minho. One more unforgivable act and you would stop, you swore again.
Minho kept thinking about you, but he had no plans to fuck you, he had done enough with teasing you and that had already turned him into something he never thought he would be, a fucking cheating bastard, since he had no reason to touch another woman. But he kept fantasizing about how good you must feel, how inexperienced you must be, all horny, riding a cock senselessly and frantically believing that was the right way to satisfy a man, since that’s how you’d been taught to do it, at least by the dumb, immature college boys, or so he thought. Minho would be lying if he denied that he was incredibly attracted to you. But it was so wrong.
That day he casually went to see Chan on legal advice about something that came up as a conversation at his work earlier in the day, he could talk to him on the phone, but he wanted an excuse to at least see you, if he wasn’t going to allow himself to fuck you.
And he found you, attractively sitting behind a desk reading some papers, making notes, so focused and cute, making him feel so guilty and dirty as he had recurring thoughts of your weak sex-weary destroyed body.
But your face lit up at the sight of him and your attention was drawn to him.
Minutes later in the midst of conversation with his friend, Chan had to apologize and said that he remembered he had to leave urgently and it would take perhaps all afternoon, if Minho could please go drop you off at his house, to which strangely for Chan, Minho agreed instantly, leaving you alone once again at such a critical point for both of you.
Minho came dangerously close to you, with the dirty thought of fucking you on his friend’s desk, but he had to stop himself.
“Chan had to leave, I’ll drop you home” he spoke to you sharply.
“Now? I’ll leave now?”
“Yes, that’s when I have some time off.”
You had gone over the situation, feeling even guilty about raising looks from Chan towards you, that was not what you wanted, Chan was never your target because you had enormous respect for him and you thought that maybe you should start acting sane and also keep respect for his friends, stopping all the craziness.
You grabbed your stuff and your short skirt got exactly the kind of reaction you wanted from the beginning for Minho to have. It took nothing for him to drop you off at Chan’s house, go back to his job where his wife was busy on another floor and fuck her right there, but it took nothing for him to fuck you either.
“Oh, sure, wait here, I’ll go get my car,” he said.
He was so engrossed that he stopped thinking clearly. You got in his car, leaving Chan’s assistant to close the place later at closing time.
You were nervous and tried to distract yourself, thinking about how his car looked so good on him, it looked just like the kind of car Lee Minho would drive, you thought about what to eat once you got to the house, you just wanted to stop the crazy ideas, but now it was Minho who had them.
You didn’t even see him drive and acted modestly, while his piercing gaze saw every part of you, of your subtle cleavage and skirt so short he could see your panties easily in that position. Minho cursed menatally and thought he should have let you order a fucking cab. Chan argued that Missy was at some sort of all-important convection for Chase and they had the tickets for a while, so he didn’t want to disturb them at their bonding time and he didn’t want to keep you waiting.
You felt his heavy gaze and stirred a little excitedly in the seat, revealing a little momentary glimpse of your white panties. Minho tightened his grip on the steering wheel and looked straight ahead, so annoyed and helpless that he couldn’t do anything, he pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose a little, trying to calm himself down, you were literally doing nothing and you had him with his libido full, his mind spinning and his cock so hard it was squeezing in his jeans.
Minho was blinded in lust and finally spoke, confessing what his mind always wanted you to know:
“I bet you taste delicious.”
You blinked in confusion, thought you hadn’t heard his murmur right, innocently believing he was talking about food all of a sudden. Minho stopped at a red light and you both turned to look at each other. His intense gaze surprised you and you noticed him subtly agitated, his expression was serious and monotonous but his breathing was heavy, he was aroused, you noticed, it was impossible not to see his notorious bulge protruding from his pants.
You felt dizzy and heated, thinking how unreal the situation was.
“Excuse me?” you asked almost breathlessly.
“That I bet you taste delicious. I want to taste your sweet pussy until I make you scream, that’s what I said.”
You were surprised by his boldness and honesty. Minho spoke to you so directly, in such a demanding and serious tone, but you managed to see his slight sparkle in his eyes, almost enjoying what he said. He moved the car forward and it wasn’t superfluous to say that your world spun in every possible way.
“And… where will you do it Mr. Lee?” you returned to yourself, your weak body filled with pity and guilt glowing in desire again.
Minho smiled, so happy all of a sudden.
“I can’t fuck you in the car, the daylight is too bright. But we can do it at my place, there’s no one there now.”
You shivered and Minho was so happy that you easily agreed that he caressed your thigh; you sighed softly, he enjoyed teasing you until he brought his hand to your pussy, you didn’t understand how he could look so calm, with his cock aching and still driving while he pulled the fabric of your panties aside to caress your pussy, you were already a mess, it felt so good, but it was so wrong.
“Fuck, you’re so wet already, I see” Minho giggled softly, “We’re almost there, doll. Don’t worry.”
And Minho was almost cumming in his pants, his cock screaming for attention. All of you were doing it.
You arrived, Minho’s wife was gone, his children were being watched by his mother, everything was lining up perfectly for you, it seemed. You felt dirty again, with an ache in your chest but you couldn’t stop, you kept thinking about his mouth on your pussy.
Minho turned off from his cell phone every security camera in his house and directed you to a room, which didn’t look fancy enough to be his main room, but still looked spacious, nice and clean.
“Take off your clothes, sweetie” he commanded, so desperate, his hands on his hips waiting as he gasped for breath.
You obeyed him in a heartbeat, you felt so dirty filled with a voracious sexual hunger. Minho watched you, biting his lip eagerly until he saw you naked in front of him.
“Fuck” he sighed breathlessly, lust in person, so young and full of life, with soft round breasts and hard nipples, “Lie down and spread your legs, I’m gonna fucking eat your pretty pussy.”
His gaze was so penetrating and in trembling, excited steps you did his bidding, a command so rough and tactless it made your clit vibrate.
He moved closer to you, admiring you in that position with a smug smile, so submissive and begging to be serviced. He wanted to hear you ask for it. However, Minho resisted no more and pulled down his pants and underwear with a tug, you caught a glimpse of his big and taut cock so erect before he got on his knees facing the edge of the bed and in front of your pussy. You sighed, he was just as you expected.
Minho bit his lip at the sight of your exposed lubricated vulva, which throbbed in untouched pleasure.
“Look at you” he began to say amused, “the little slut so horny, tell me how badly you want it, say it now.”
You gasped as you felt the fingertip of his index caress your clit, your cheeks were beginning to burn in embarrassment, wanting to tell him that he was just as needy for pleasuring someone younger who was not his wife, such an old man horny for the forbidden.
Minho brought his face close to your pussy finally with you feeling his heavy hot breath and breathing, you shivered, watching him with your elbows resting on the mattress, he saw your whole body perfectly from that angle.
At this point you had no dignity, sex with two older, married men in a period of days were your biggest mistakes. So begging Lee Minho didn’t sound so bad after all.
“I-I want you to eat me, Mr. Lee.”
Minho smiled widely.
“Magic word” he requested, his eyebrows raised as if he was reminding something to a kid.
“Please” you whispered haltingly.
Minho gently pinched your clit before withdrawing his hand and taking care of your sensitive spot with his mouth. You moaned, small shocks of pleasure filled your body at the sensation of his warm and steady tongue making circles on your clit, then taking it over completely, biting and sucking hard, sticking his soft lips on the skin of your pussy. You arched your back and reflexively brought one of your hands to his soft, straight hair as you struggled to lean back with your other arm because you didn’t want to let him out of your sight, he looked so attractive with his face buried in your core. Minho left his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly and with the other he caressed the rest of your pussy, your sticky wet labia until he reached down to tease your entrance with his thick thumb, subtly inserting it making you sigh in desperation.
He finally lowered his mouth slowly to the rest of your cunt, licking and sucking your folds until he inserted two of his strong fingers into you, causing you to let out a squeal of surprise, Minho smiled with his lips pressed against you. You were a mess, you had never had your pussy eaten with so much attention and patience, you could tell he knew what he was doing and exactly which spots to touch, lick, nibble and suck, you were going crazy; most guys your age would lick senselessly and without a rhythm, with their exhausted jaws wanting to make you orgasm, they were inexperienced, they would be offended if you told them which spots to touch and you had to beg for oral sex… but Lee Minho, the expert Minho didn’t have to take any orders, he was giving them and he was making you see fucking heaven.
His fingers were filling your pussy so well like no one ever had before, digging deep inside you, your walls squeezing his digits so satisfyingly as he feasted himself on your delectable young cunt. Minho’s poor, exposed cock was on the verge of intense ejaculation, but he had incredible control of his body and wasn't going to cum until he was inside you.
You whimpered as you felt his restless tongue inside you as he removed his fingers from you, his nose bumping against your pussy as he tasted your perfect entrance, staining his chin and mouth, being strong evidence of how good he was making you feel.
After sizzling whimpers and your pussy being treated so specially, you were about to cum and Minho sensed it, so he replaced his tongue once more with his fingers, pulling away from you to see your beautiful flustered face about to climax.
You saw him, his lips and chin glossy from you, Minho was slightly flushed, his ears were bright red, he looked so tender and dominant at the same time, penetrating your insides with his fingers.
“C’mon, sweetie, cum, I know you’re about to do it.”
You were no longer thinking clearly, the tension of your orgasm was so strong that you frowned uncomprehendingly, your vision blurred slightly, his touches felt for a few seconds a couple of times better than before and in a moderate whimper, you let yourself collapse in an intense orgasm, shuddering and battling with the irregularity of your breathing.
You dropped your body onto the bed, tired as you relaxed your legs as you felt the absence of his digits in you. You were tired, satisfied.
Minho stood with a smile, wiping his residue of you from his mouth and pulled his body closer to you. You were recovering a little, your orgasm had been so intense that you didn’t react to seeing him this close.
“Open your mouth” he ordered.
You looked into his eyes and noticed his fingers heading for your mouth, you took them, sucking on them, tasting his skin and your own orgasm coated on them.
Minho kept watching you with a half smile, so proud to have you like this. He slipped his fingers out of your mouth, brought his face close to yours and played with your lips, running his thumb wildly across them. You were again aroused by the heavy breaths of the two of you and his incredibly dominant look over your body.
Minho pulled away, he was so hot that he stripped off his black shirt quickly, revealing his muscular body. You bit your lip, seeing his body and his thick swollen cock.
You magically regained your strength again and sat up, so fascinated and attracted by his big dick, your eyes sparkled as your brain only worked to think that you had to touch him.
Minho saw your intentions and didn’t stop you, he let you do it, you looked tender with your eyes slightly widened in admiration as you moved towards his cock. You stroked his abds and moved your hand down to his recently shaved and stubbly pubic area that detonated in visible veins his erect member. You looked so fascinated, as if it was all an attraction you could touch.
Your pussy throbbed, still wet in your recent orgasm as you felt his cock between your hands, it was big and thick, so visibly pretty that you were dazzled. Minho moaned, his cock was so sensitive, leaking precum, he had small, slight sensations of an orgasm but had not fully ejaculated his load, his balls ached and his body was tense, that was why he was going to fuck you all at once but he let himself be carried away by your gentle caresses.
You slid your hand down his length, staring into his eyes, Minho was doing everything to look hard and hold his position, but he was dying to whimper and fall to your touches. And, when he saw you were about to bring your mouth close, he stopped you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to do it, but that he was eager to unload every drop into you one by one.
“Enough. Turn around and let me see your ass.”
You looked at him confused, which he intimidatingly raised his eyebrows waiting for you to react quickly.
You got into that position, squealing with excitement knowing that he was going to fuck you, still in the midst of the thrill, you wondered to yourself if you should ask him to use a condom, you didn’t want to end up making a big mistake. Bigger than fucking a married man.
Minho pulled your body with ease, making you stand up from the bed and letting your legs bump on the edge of it.
Minho took his cock, also debating whether to reach for a condom or fuck you with his raw cock, arousing him to immense levels at the thought of filling your entire pussy with every drop of his cum. He bit his lip, teasing your entrance with his bare glans, fantasizing about the idea of making you his, his heart was racing, he was about to do it, fuck you unprotected to feel your insides at first contact. You wiggled your ass while you arched your back ready to be fuck, needy and softly moaning until Minho spanked you hard twice unexpectedly, making you groan in surprise and excitement.
“Fuck” he sighed, “Why don’t you say anything, huh? You’re so fucking needy begging for my cock, you want me to fuck you like this without protection, don’t you?”
Minho spoke, in a thick voice that made your core rumble. The idea of his cock twitching inside you unprotected suddenly felt so good, you turned to see him, letting lust win again for both of you.
“Yes, please, Mr. Lee, fuck me.”
The thought filled his body and cock again, rubbing his cock against your folds to lubricate him and then gently thrusting his unprotected glans into you.
“Say it again” he ordered, the vein in his neck showing.
“Fuck me, please.”
His tip felt so good but you were desperate for his full length filling you up. Minho smiled at your needy expression. You raised your ass higher, the thought of the risk quickened his heart more, Minho was fucking fertile, his wife got pregnant as she ground his cock and cum in her folds and after she took the pill. And he could swear you were too, so young, panting for sex, so naive without measuring the consequences, Minho was blinded by pleasure and temptation that licking his lips he thought amused that he was going to get you pregnant so you would stop behaving like a little whore with any man asking for unprotected sex. He was going to teach you a lesson and at the same time he was going to fuck you like they had never fucked you before, all those immature guys who presumed to fuck you. He was going to make you remember and never forget.
Minho slid all the way in, stretching out your entrance until you felt his balls brush against your body and his tip touch the deepest part of you, caressing your cervix. You whimpered in pain and pleasure, it hurt like the first time. He grunted in pleasure, you were squeezing him so well, making him think for a second if you were a virgin or it was just his swollen, pumping cock that had to hold out so hard.
One of Minho’s hands went to your waist squeezing you tightly the other one grabbed your hips to finally push your body. At first he pushed your body, to peruse your wet open hole giving room for his cock and how his raw cock slid smoothly into you, the skin of his veiny cock coated in your glistening liquid, sliding in and out of your pussy, Minho was going to make sure he left every drop of his cum in you to teach you a fucking lesson, to let everyone know you were his, to make you remember the day when you were so well fucked and accepted his exposed cock in you without thinking.
Minho smiled broadly, starting to ram you deep, moving your body with each intense, rough thrust, making you whimper, you were still adjusting to his size but for now your body was starting to ache, combining with pleasure.
He gasped, your walls were so tight squeezing him so torturously that he could cum weakly in moments.
“What a pretty and tight pussy you have, kitten, it feels so fucking good.”
Minho kept pounding your pussy hard, weakening your body, feeling his large size protrude into your lower abdomen; he noticed how you were slightly desperate not knowing where to put your hands, so he quickly acted and grabbed your forearms with force exalting the veins of his strong hands, leaving you helpless at his disposal, with his cock filling every inch of you, and even more, your poor entrance and interior was starting to be attacked by Minho’s cock as he accelerated his rhythm, moving his hips on you so satisfyingly until reaching your G-spot, finally you managed to combine the pain with your pleasure filling you completely, you couldn’t stop whimpering, each intense impact of his pelvis against your body clouded your sight more and more.
Minho was panting and overbearing to have you at his disposal, listening to you whimpering, his ego went to his head, he knew he was good at sex and fucked hard and he did it so rough that it left you shaking and sore.
Minho kept up his intense pace, thrusting hard into you until you could hear your skins collapsing and your soaking wet pussy sliding on his cock, you were both mesmerized, Minho could count your encounter as one of his best sexual experiences, the inside of your pussy squishing on his cock was an heavenly sensation. Minho hummed in pleasure, finding your submissive position so arousing; you were in a slightly uncomfortable position as he was holding you by your arms so tightly, but the sensation of being slightly motionless made you experience sex like you never had before, Minho was making you explore so many new sensations that you whimpered in pleasure with soft tears forming in your glistening eyes.
“Mmm, you’re taking so well my cook, kitten, look at you like a fucking good slut. You like being fuck hard, don’t you?”
Your whole body got hot listening to him talk dirty, you could listen to him for hours while his cock is shoved in your pussy.
“Y-yes, Min-” he pounded you harder, “Mr. Lee!”
You babbled in a squeak oh my god, enjoying being fucked hard like you had never experienced before.
It was feeling so good but at the same time it was like you were being split in two, your face was flushed red as you were so close to your orgasm. You didn’t know how he was doing it but it didn’t feel like a fuck where he was mindlessly penetrating you, his movements were frantic but the intensity of the perfect control of his hips blurred your vision and took you to the edge.
You felt his cock throbbing in your core as your near orgasm squeezed it slightly tighter, almost milking him dry, however, Minho in one swift movement grabbed both your arms with one hand while with the other went in search of your hair, to pull it back and whisper to you in a husky voice, “Come here.”
You did your best to lift your sore body, with a little of his help, and press your naked back against his bare chest.
“Cum, little slut,” he growled in your ear, grabbing your neck with one of his hands while the other held your quivering body in your mons venus, his nimble fingers stimulating your sensitive clit, “Cum all over my fucking cock and I’m gonna cum all inside you to make you mine. I bet no little brat has ever fucked you the way I do” his lips were glued to your ear, you heard every gasping breath and felt the vibration of his voice on your back as you were pinned to his chest, you shook in response, causing him to let out a smug chuckle in your ear, with the ache in your abdomen from his cock and from your second intense orgasm, “You just love when I make you cum, don’t you?”
“Y-yees” you replied raggedly through the constant battle with your breathing and racing heart, the edge of your orgasm, and his intense thrusts into your pussy that made your body move, blurrily seeing the arm veins that wrapped around your neck.
Suddenly Minho whimpered in your ear, tightening his previous soft grip on your neck.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum too. I’m gonna fill your pussy with my cum you dirty slut.”
His ramming continued and he began to lightly choke you, more tears graced your face, the pain and pleasure was getting so intense that you collapsed again more fiercely and broke free from the growing knot in your stomach, falling into a rumbling orgasm leaving you shuddering and lifeless.
Minho also cum at the sensation of your orgasm collapsing on him, satisfying you audibly as you heard his loud moan and filling the inside of your vagina with every drop of his loaded cock just as he had promised himself. You felt his warm shot into you still with his cock inside and a tired Minho rested his chin on your shoulder as he slowly released his grip on your neck.
He pulled out of you leaving your dripping entrance.
“Let me see your pussy full of my cum, kitten” Minho ordered breathlessly.
Tired, you sat on the bed and spread your legs, you moaned at the tingle of the fluids slipping into you and Minho smiled, to pull you close and give you a short but tender and passionate kiss on your lips. Your first kiss, after the dirty act.
“Aw, you look so tired, you’ve never been fucked this hard before, my babygirl?” he spoke almost mockingly.
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You couldn't stop for a while, you lived a double life entangled in the guilt and strong arms of two men. They were both sex gods so ready to please you, they knew what they were doing and it drove you crazy.
There were many differences between the two, but you loved fucking them and having fun with both equally, with the same intensity. Neither of them knew that you were fucking them at the same time, honestly you were there for a good time, not to promise them that you would always belong to them, when they already belonged to someone else in the first place.
With Hyunjin, your encounters became serious when he returned to the topic of not making you cum and promised to do so, renting a penthouse exclusively for the two of you where you could both sin without a problem. That place became a witness to your dirty and fateful encounters.
Hyunjin was softer and more tender with you, he loved foreplay and you deciding what to do, what to touch, he put your needs before his, anyway he knew you were going to please him and that was enough for his miserable and needy slightly mature body.
You loved the contrast of the two of them, some days you would see Hyunjin and others Minho, you'd text for hours, have fun sending each other risqué messages and then take out every sorrow and frustration on you and your young, docile, libido filled body. You loved that with Hyunjin you were soft, he gave you the sweetest kisses and you could be in control… but with Minho everything was very different, he gave you orders for everything and left your body sore.
Hyunjin liked you, because he could fill himself with as much sexual pleasure as he wanted, just like Minho, you seemed to have no limits.
That night you felt guilty when he informed you that he had rented the place just for the two of you, but you decided to accept it cynically. He showered you with expensive gifts and filled your bank account with money, all while giving you some of the best sex. You didn't know where to put the gifts or hide them, so he gave you the keys to the penthouse so you could leave all his gifts and use them once you were alone, without your sister asking where you got a Cartier bracelet or new handbags from the latest Versace collection. You noticed that with his gifts, Hyunjin was looking for something more lasting which alerted you a lot, but then you forgot about it when you arrived at the place with absolutely nothing to worry about, you both had developed the ability to be soulless and cynical monsters, guiltless enough to enjoy sexual pleasures with the city light outside the big windows as your witnesses.
Hyunjin always made sure to kiss you before initiating any sexual act, his soft lips always lived close to your face and body in every moment you shared alone. He loved to touch you and slide his hand under your dress to caress and take care of your pussy. His deft fingers would easily slide into your already lubricated area and he would gently thrust into you. You both undressed and he continued to caress your sensitive pussy until he guided you to the bed still kissing you. You enjoyed his kisses so much that you both dropped on the mattress and masturbated his cock, you adored the feel of his quivering dick, Hyunjin drove you wild that you couldn't say no to his adorable face begging for sex.
Your encounters were like this, on lonely nights when you got overly turned on and asked him to lie down on the bed, Hyunjin with an adorable and wide smile would obey, in contrast to his colossal cock intimidatingly wagging at you as it was exposed. He was also pleasurably hurting your pussy every time you fucked. He was so handsome you could eat him out, you unloaded all that energy as you sat on his erect cock, grinding on it and sliding your wet folds into his stiffness, making him whimper.
“Mmm, fuck, it feels so good, baby, you love my cock, don't you, baby?” moaned Hyunjin taking hold of your breasts tightly and massaging them.
You nodded frantically in response, Hyunjin loved it when you had fun with his cock, putting it in your mouth, on your pussy, while riding him, masturbating him even with lazy footjob on his cock when watching a movie and the two of you are at the far ends of the couch spaced apart.
You continued, sliding up and down, rubbing all over your wet pussy making pressure on his cock and his exposed abdomen, panting, and seeing him so appetizing and handsome. You moved closer to him, as he had made you an addition to his lips and you kissed him, the sensation of his mouth working against yours made your pussy throb more and you remembered how good his lips felt on your pussy.
Pulling away from him, you looked at him with your huge bambi eyes that he adores and said:
“Can I sit on your face, Hyun?”
Hyunjin almost cum before your innocent gaze rubbing on his cock as you ask for fucking his face.
You knew Hyunjin wouldn't say no to you. And then he would cuddle you to keep chatting about his whole life, you liked him, you weren't going to deny it, he was handsome, interesting, kind… but he was married, you wanted to keep it to just sex without feelings, at least until your summer was over.
Minho, on the other hand, debated long and hard whether to continue seeing you and ended up giving in completely, offering the cabin he had a few hours outside the city as your main place of pleasure.
You didn't feel proud, you felt dirty and Minho always reminded you of that, he loved to talk dirty and sometimes referred to you with sweet names and sometimes blurted out in excitement somewhat derogatory names, both of which made you horny anyway.
Nights with Minho were darker, he didn't make sure to kiss you before doing any act, he loved to tease you and watch every reaction, whispering dirty and defiantly, “Wasn't this what you wanted?”
You loved to tease him and misbehave only to receive your painful punishment. It was as if you were balancing very well the sweet sex with Hyunjin, with the hard and painful one Minho was giving you.
He was so forward and a total pervert, at first he liked you to call him Mr. Lee, but as he became more confident he asked you to call him daddy. He liked to feel in control and the absolute authority of your body and pleasure.
Sometimes you would get very proud and try to play his same game, making comments that you knew made his blood boil and hurt his ego, throwing at him in a mocking tone, “And you? You're so needy too, daddy, look at you, your wife's pussy isn't enough so you come to taste mine.”
Minho paused, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, letting his heavy hand fall on your exposed and sensitive vagina, slapping it hard and making you cry out in pain. Minho hated talking about his wife when he was with you and hated it even more when you talked about her, unlike Hyunjin who used you as his therapist to tell every complaint he had.
Minho stood up, coming close to your face to slap it too. That night he was so furious, and not exactly because of you, but he was taking it out unfairly on you. He was fed up with his wife's glamorous life, her fame was starting to fall on his shoulders as it was starting to affect his children, which hurt him, they were the most precious thing to Minho.
He moved your body with ease, putting your body over his lap to begin spanking you.
But those were the unusual nights, what Minho liked about you was that you never seemed to get tired, your body never got full of him, apparently, you could take round after round until you ran him dry, he loved to call you derogatory names to remind you how unbelievably slutty you were behaving and in the end he didn't talk much like Hyunjin did, Minho showed his caring and affection by making you dinner and talking softly about him, though he was extremely reserved, though to you… something about Minho caught your attention so much, for days you wanted to deny it, but you liked him slightly more than Hyunjin.
But you lived trapped in the sexual fantasies of two men, you didn't really believe them capable of seeing you with fondness or affection. Two men, running away from home and families just so they could fill your pussy and fuck you releasing every sexual frustration on them. You were their little doll, their fucktoy.
But like everything, your little empire fell little by little once Minho was starting to suspect that you were also sleeping with another man, but he was manic, trying to figure out if that man could be Chan. Also Hyunjin's wife, Yeji began to suspect him, he was late, he didn't come to sleep, she went to designer stores and the workers kindly told her if she wanted another pair of the same garment, bag or shoes that her husband had already bought. But Hyunjin had a very huge problem, as he was slightly falling in love with you. He couldn't help it.
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𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @bubblebisk
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godmadeaterribleerror · 13 days ago
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Hold You Tight In My Mind
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Main Masterlist
Read on A03!
Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Love Confessions, Smut (p in v, blowjobs, kinda fingering), soft angst, injury, hurt/comfort, demon possession, friends-with-benefits to lovers.
Summary/Warnings: You and Dean have an agreement. Best friends who have sex, no strings attached. But when a case goes south, you learn a few things about Dean, specifically his thoughts on the arrangement.
Maybe you won't have to love him in silence after all.
Author's Note: Kinda request from @brtodd!! Nothing I love more than a good old love confession, enjoy!
Title from Terrance Loves You by Lana Del Ray
Word Count: 8.5k
That’s a lot of blood. You’ve spent nights in motels stitching wounds and lost yourself on the side of the highway shouting for help, your guts half spilled on the pavement, but you’ve never seen that much blood.
“Son of a bitch, that’s a lot of blood.”
Dean, apparently, hasn’t seen this much blood either. 
“Should we, um,” you scan over the tile floor, your nose slightly scrunched. “Should we take a picture for Sam?”
“Yeah, he should see this shit too-“
“No, Dean,” you give him a flat look. “For the case. To help him figure out what the hell this thing is.”
Dean gives you a bright, boyish grin and nod of approval. “Good thinkin’, in case he gets mad at us-“
“Gets mad at you,” you correct, moving to stand at Dean’s shoulder as he takes the photo. “I’m not a part of this. I just wanna go home.”
Dean shrugs. “We all wanna go home, Sweetheart. Hell, I’ve got a wife and kids- Shit-“
He doubles over slightly from your elbow in his ribs, and you roll your eyes.
“You have a fake wife and kids. And your fake wife,” you jab your thumb at your own chest. “Doesn’t want her fake brother-in-law to kill her.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Dean’s never allowed to have fun.” He mutters, rubbing his side. “And Sammy wouldn’t kill ya’-“
“He’d kill my fake husband.” You pout at Dean, placing a hand over your heart. “And that would kill me.”
Dean chuckles, rising back to his full height. “I love it when you pretend that you care about me. Makes me warm and fuzzy.”
You roll your eyes, hoping he can’t see the low flush on your face. “You’re an asshole.”
“I know.” He shrugs. “You’re into it, though. C’mon, we gotta see if there’s actually a body in here, or Sam’ll kill both of us.”
Dean trudges off through the lake of blood, and you have to shake your head slightly to clear it. This case is going to kill you. This is so fucking gross, and the longer you’re here—in this room, in this town, on this case—the sicker you feel.
And it’s not just the blood. It’s all of this. It’s the haughty country club patrons who are downright impossible to properly interrogate, it’s the extra fancy clothing you have to wear for the investigations, and the shitty little tea cakes that the club serves. Tea cakes that you can feel your stomach growling for, because you haven’t had a chance to eat all day, and that only makes you feel worse. As every hour passes, you only feel more and more sick. You only spiral into starving mess that needs either food or Dean.
And that just makes you ill. Every time you look at Dean and hear him say wife, you want to strangle him then kiss him and it’s exhausting. Because you’d walked into this stupid fucking country club with a plan that would’ve worked fine—Sam’s your driver because he drew the short stick, Dean’s your bodyguard, you’re some fancy heiress looking to spend some money—and everything went sideways the moment the front desk asked how many household members, and Dean said four. Dean said that he was your husband, and you have kids, and that he knows he’s punchin’ above his weight class, but damn him, he can’t feel bad about it. 
You want to hate him for that. You want to throttle him for how he’s treating this like it’s casual and easy, like every time he says wife it’s not so quietly cruel to your heart. How it flutters and glows before withering, because you’ll never have that. Dean always says wife with a teasing voice and nudge of your shoulder, and you can only grin at him like it’s not killing you, reminding you of what you can’t have.
But you can’t hate Dean. You don’t really know how to hate Dean. And he doesn’t know that this is like torture, because he really thinks you’re happy with this. Not just the fake wife thing—because you are playing into it, trading the same taunts and jokes and grins—but the very real, no-strings-attached fuck-buddies arrangement you have. Have had for fucking years. The one where you’ll follow him to the ends of the earth and never, ever look back to see what you’d left behind, but all he’s asking is that you stay in his bed and let him fuck you when he asks.
It’s not a bad arrangement. He’s a sex god, he gives as good as he gets, and you’re technically exclusive, but it’s still not what you want. Crave. Desire more than you’ve ever desired anything.
Because you really just want all of Dean. Something he’s never offered anyone‚ will certainly never offer you, and you’re going to chase until it kills you. You’ll warm Dean’s bed and touch his body for as long as you’re allowed, and cling to these small deaths of maybe this could be real until they all finally catch up to your heart. You’ll gather small offerings he drops in your lap without knowing—you’re the only person he looks at, and his eyes don’t seem to stray, and he’s the one who decided you should be fake married—and build a shrine to him along your ribs he’ll never be allowed to see.
But his voice still haunts your dreams with words you feel over your skin where he’s touched you before. Words you’ve heard a million times—so pretty, sweetheart, good girl—and words you’ll never hear. Words that circle your brain and bang on your skull all the fucking time, even in this disgusting, haunting mess of blood. Words that make some small part of you spark whenever you hear Dean’s deep, strong voice say your name, because you’re a little pathetic and you can’t stop praying that he’ll say them. He won’t. He never does. 
He calls your name, and that spark kicks up your spine, and he still doesn’t say them. 
“I got it!” He sounds so proud, and you hate that it makes you smile. “We’re looking at a demon!”
You turn, pushing through the blood to join Dean at where he’s standing at a fireplace, running his finger over the mantle with a twisted expression of disgust.
“Sulfur?” You ask, stopping as close to his side as he can manage, and he shoots you a grin, holding up a bloodied—but blackened—finger. 
“Bingo, Sweetheart.” He winks, obviously missing your open, wanting gape at him as he looks back to the mantle. “Nasty son of bitch, though, I’ve never seen one of those douchebags do this.”
Dean gestures around the room, and you hum an agreement.
“So we’re good?” You ask, standing slightly on your toes to survey the sulfur buildup. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.” Dean pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I’m gonna call my wife, tell her I’ll be home for dinner-“
You whack his arm, and he laughs like a handsome, cocky fucking asshole you still can’t figure out how to hate.
“Your wife is starving, and tired of standing in blood.” You kick your foot through the mess, wrinkling your nose. “Can we please go?”
“I dunno, I think this is kinda romantic.” Dean gives you a shit-eating grin, and you swallow. “I mean, this is freakin’ gross, but it’s just us and all these guts, I think we could waste some time-“
“Shut up.” You shove him, and he doesn’t stop grinning at you. “Haul ass, Winchester, or you’ll be in the fake doghouse.”
He chuckles, rebalancing in a second. “You’re being a little dramatic, kid-“
“Don’t kid me, Dean Winchester, I’m your fake wife. I gave birth to your fake kids-“
“You’ve got some good points,“ Dean drawls your name, pulling you right against his chest, and suddenly the smell of metallic blood is nothing compared to the leather and whiskey and gunpowder of Dean. The sticky heat of the room is overtaken by the heat in your core, the heat of Dean’s breath as he lowers down to kiss right behind your ear, his voice dropping to a deep, teasing growl. “And I’m gonna real fuck you when we get back to the motel. But I gotta call Sam and catch him up, can you-“
You nod, reaching into his pocket to grab the keys, and force yourself not to look back as you leave. You wince slightly as you lean into the Impala—starting the car before rising back up and leaning against the door—but it’s not like she’s never been covered in blood before. This just… a lot more blood than usual.
Dean takes a year to join you, and when he walks out of the building he’s smirking, spreading his arms in a wide aren’t you happy to see me? gesture. 
“Sam’s workin’ it.” He stops right in front of you, too close and never close enough. “Can I buy a pretty lady a beer?”
“You can buy her some food.” You cross your arms, grinning up at him. “I saw a drive-thru down the road, we shouldn’t go inside looking like this.”
“Smart.” He places his hand on your lower back, guiding you around the car and into the passenger’s seat, and just being so fucking impossible as he opens the door and helps you inside. “Greasy fast-food for me and my girl, comin’ right up.”
You have to learn how to hate him. You have to learn how to flip Dean off and mean it, how to not flush and giggle like a schoolgirl with a crush under his attention. He doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t know how to mean it, but it still makes your lower gut warm and your face split into a wide, stupid grin when he calls you my girl, drawls your name in the car, and rests his hand on your knee as you pull through the ordering window. When he parks in the lot and you laugh together, his eyes rarely leaving yours and his smile never falling from his face. 
Even when he gets out to use the bathroom—promising he’ll be fast and try, somehow, not to draw attention to how he’s soaked in blood—Dean still grins and winks at you, and you can’t figure out how to shove his chest and shout that this is mean. That he’s mocking you and stringing your heart up on wires to play with, and he can’t be expected to know that but this is so fucking mean. He needs to stop smiling at you, and stop saying wife all the time like it’s real when it’s not. It won’t be, it can’t be, and now that’s going to haunt you forever. 
You sit there for long, lonely minutes while Dean’s gone, trying get as little blood as you can on the upholstery, because Dean had already started grumbling about how much work this is gonna be to clean up and you can’t bring yourself to make anything harder for him. You spiral through the sound of Dean calling you my girl and promising to fuck you, sit in the ghost of his big, warm hand on your body and his chest pressed right against your breasts. The gleam in his eyes that was full of promises, and the fantasy of all the plans he might have for that aforementioned fucking.
Then you hear his phone ring, and you frown. Dean almost never forgets his phone in the car, even if he’s just getting beer or paying for gas. It’s a hazard, to not have it. To not be able to reach you or Sam if he needs to, for you and Sam to not be able to reach him.
And he’s been gone a while. Long enough that your throat starts to form a small lump, and—when you pick up the call—your voice is a little unsteady, your attention on where Dean had disappeared into the building.
“Yeah?”
“Oh, hey.” Sam says your name through the speaker, his tone a little surprised. “Where’s Dean?”
“Bathroom.” You frown at the building, desperate for Dean to just appear, and soothe this horrible twisting in your gut. “What’s up?”
“I figured out what we’re looking at.” You can hear some papers shuffling on Sam’s end, his words slow and careful. “Special kind of demon that feeds off of lustful blood, which explains why he’s been going after all those rich people. Like, ten ladies and five dudes have tried to sleep with me this week, and I know you and Dean got that, uh, offer-“
“Sam.” You mutter, your eyes still on the building. “Can we exercise it?”
“Kind of. We can’t use the normal one, because it’s not a normal demon, but there is a way. And these guys seem to be capable of being injured, more dependent on their vessels or something. So-“
“If we find him we can knock him down,” you mutter. “Hold him until we figure out how to flush him out.”
“Exactly. And I’m trying to work on the flushing part,” Sam sighs, and you can picture his sheepish expression. “But I don’t have it yet. Are you-“
“We’re coming back soon. Do you want us gone a little while longer, so you can focus-“
“No, Dean told me about all the blood. Sounded gross.”
You nod, even though he can’t see you. “It was. But-“
“I’ll take the car, need to stop at the library anyway.” Sam says your name through the phone, and there’s a sound of pity in it that makes you curl slightly into yourself. “You and Dean can shower, relax, do, uh, whatever you do-“
You sigh. “Please don’t give me permission to fuck your brother, dude. It’s weird.”
“Yeah.” Sam chuckles through the static. “Sorry. I just know he’s been trying to get you alone-“
“He’s always trying to get me alone.” A dumb smile takes over your face as Dean reappears, and he’s fine. Still covered in blood, but grinning at you with a dizzying joy and gleam in his eyes. “I’ll tell him what we’ve got, and text us when you’ve got the exorcism.”
“Will do. Call me if you need anything, or if, uh, I should stay away longer-“
“Suck my dick.”
You end the call as Sam laughs, and look up to find Dean tapping on your window with a smirk. You blink at him, because he might be covered in more blood than before. There’s a bruise on his forehead that wasn’t there a second ago, his shirt is on backwards, and his jacket is drenched, but he’s look at you like he won the lottery, and you’re not sure what the hell is going on.
“Dean,” you frown at him as you roll the window down, your brow furrowed as he braces an arm on the roof of Baby. “Are you-“
He cuts off your words by ducking down, grabbing your chin, and pulling you into a long, mind-numbing, sloppy kiss that leaves you gaping and dumb. Your fingers curling in his shirt, his low chuckle rolling through your body as he pushes his  tongue down your throat, the taste of Dean—lingering burger and sweet soda and salt for your food, plus something innately Dean that’s heady and always leaves a perfect aftertaste on your tongue whenever he kisses you—overtaking the taste of blood just enough override your sense of this is kinda gross, and make you pull him closer.
When Dean pulls back—leaving you starting at him, your breathing ragged and heart trying to escape your chest as he grins at you—he grins at you, his voice a gravely promise. 
“You ready to head back, darlin’?”
You blink at him. He’s never called you darling. Darling doesn’t sound like a Dean word. “Uh, yeah, but are you feeling okay? You were in there a while-“
“Food didn’t sit right,” he shrugs, drawing back up with a last wink. “Trust me, Sweetheart, it ain’t gonna be an issue anymore. I’m all flushed out.”
He rounds the car, and you watch him move with a frown. That’s the Dean swagger-walk, but it’s longer, with almost no urgency. Dean always walks with a least a little urgency, and he calls you Sweetheart but not darlin’, and something is still squeezing around your throat and telling you something’s wrong, when Dean’s right here. He’s winking at you from the driver’s seat, driving with the same cool ease Dean always has behind the wheel, and talking to you like he always does. Like your every word is fascinating and amusing, and you could say the grossest thing in the world but he’d still call you adorable. 
You hate that he does that. It’s perfect and painful, feeding that shrine over your ribs, and almost enough to distract you from how weird he’s being. How he doesn’t seem at all interested to hear about the blood demon, how his first clarification is so Sam’s gonna leave us in the motel, and how he’s growing bolder with his hand on your leg. Trailing fingers lazily up your thigh and grinning when he brushes over the apex of your thighs, chuckling at your small gasp.
“Think we’re ready for that fuckin’, Sweetheart?” He drawls, pulling into the motel lot. “You sure seem real needy-“
“We’re not having sex, Dean, there’s a demon on the loose-“
“A demon Sammy’s handlin’.” He shrugs. “And I’ve been tryin’ to get you alone all freakin’ week. C’mon, we deserve some time together.“ Dean leans forward, smirking at you. “And I know you want it, babygirl. I bet you’re real fuckin’ wet for me.” He reaches up to your face, running his thumb over your lower lip. “So pretty, darlin’-“
There it is again. Darling. Darling, and the excessive drawling, and the slow walk, and the glint in his eyes you’re only now noticing. It’s colder than how Dean ever looks at you. It’s shallow and crude, like he can’t see anything past a pretty face and body, when Dean is—above all else—your friend. When there’s always a shining light when he looks at you that—both amazingly and awfully—reminds you that you’re more than just a body, and he mostly sees you as the best friend he’s ever had. The one he can do this with, because you care about each other too much to complicate things, and who he’ll always respect.
And this doesn’t feel respectful. It doesn’t feel like Dean. His hands are touching you, but there’s something off about them. Dean would be tracing his fingers over your inner thigh, not moving any further until your either grabbed his hand and moved it for him, or downright pleaded for him to touch you. He’d be disgusted by keeping your bloodied clothing in Baby for even a second more, and choose to back you against the motel wall instead of whatever this is. He’d let you get a word in, for your mock sparring and teasing that he always seems to win.
He would’ve worked in a joke about wanting to fuck his wife, because she can be a real brat when he neglects her. And you’d have smacked his chest, and he’d have laughed, raising his brows and saying see? She gets all bitchy and dramatic when I don’t fuck her right.
But Dean’s not doing that right now. And when you reach over the seat, trailing your hand up his chest in a pretend gesture of need, you feel it. 
Warm, sticky blood that’s fresh, and seeping through his shirt. Pouring from a wound you can feel the dip of, that somehow doesn’t make him flinch when you press slightly on it.
A wound right over his anti-possession tattoo.
You move before the demon—not Dean, this isn’t Dean, and you feel fucking ill—can register what’s happening. You pull one of the Impala’s random guns out from the glove compartment, thank a God who’s obviously not listening that it’s weighed and heavy, and ram the butt of it into Dean’s temple. Not hard enough to kill him—you do want your Dean back after this— but hard enough to knock him out. To buy you enough time to grab his by the neck of his jacket and drag him out of the impala. You kick open the motel room door, scream to Sam for help, and haul him into a chair. Sam ties him down, while you take long, deep breathes, and your words are soft and short when you finally manage to speak.
“He’s possessed.” You whisper, starting at the floor. “They carved through the tattoo.”
“Shit,” Sam starts to pace, and there’s a ringing in your ears that makes it hard to hear him. “It’s-“
You nod. “The blood demon.”
“Are you good to stay here?” Sam marches over to the table and shoving his laptop into his bag. “I’ll go to the library, find what we’re looking for, and call you when I’ve got it. Okay?”
You nod, trying not flinch at Sam’s sympathetic pat of your shoulder, and stare at Dean as Sam leaves. You feel vile. That’s not Dean, but it’s Dean’s body. Dean will still be injured when you get this piece of shit out of his body. He’ll still be covered in bloody, disgusting clothing, and he’ll remember you knocking him out. He’ll ask questions that you’ll have to answer, about how you knew. And you’ll have to tell him that you just did. You’ll leave out the part about how you have every piece of him memorized to worship, so that even if the demon had tried a little harder to pretend to be Dean, you probably still would have caught on. You’d recognizes Dean’s bones in the grave. You’d recognize his voice in space. You’d recognize him just fucking near you if you were being waterboarded and flayed alive. And you’ll have to look him in the eyes and say the painfully basic and obscuring answer of I just did, and that will hurt.
But you have time to practice. The demon’s still knocked out in Dean’s body, and Sam’s taking too long to figure this out, but you don’t have anywhere to be. You can tug Dean’s jacket off his body with a mumbled apology he can’t hear, and busy yourself trying to clean it. You can’t stop looking at him—battered, vulnerable, his face so painfully slack—and the warm, soap-covered cloth isn’t enough to keep you from spiraling. From flinching as the blood, Dean’s blood, becomes red bubbles, and trying to convince yourself that this isn’t going to be so impossibly horrible. That, maybe, the demon just won’t wake up, and you won’t have to do anything but clean Dean’s jacket until Sam gets back
But you’re not that lucky.
Pretty, green eyes that are but don’t look like Dean’s flutter open, the demon drops any pretense of playing pretend, and your skin begins to crawl as it speaks.
“Good mornin’,” it leers at you from the chair, pulling slightly on the bonds. “Aren’t you a pretty sight to see after some forced shut eye.”
You start to scrub on the leather to a degree that can’t be helpful, your knuckles white. 
“Knockin’ us out wasn’t very nice to your friend in here, Sweetheart. He’s awfully torn up about it. Feelin’ like he failed you, beggin’ me not to hurt you, hates that I was able to get the up on him and touch you at all. But can I tell you a secret,” the demon says your name, and your blood curls in your body. “He really wants to touch you himself. You’ve got a real dirty minded fellow on your hands. Who woulda thought the great Dean Winchester’s weakness would be a smart-mouthed bitch-“
The demon seems to choke on that last word, and when your gaze shoots up Dean’s body looks like it’s in pain. He’s curving into himself—his eyes screwed shut and sweat forming on his brow—and you’re moving before you know what’s happening. Jumping out of your seat and grabbing his face between your hands, your voice high and frantic over the blood pounding in your ears.
“Dean?” You run your thumb over his cheek, and he twitches, like he can’t figure out if he wants to flinch away or lean into your touch. “Shit, Dean, I need you to talk to me-“
Dean’s eyes snap open—that foul glint still rooted deep into them—and he laughs as you jerk away like he’d burned you.
“I’ll give ‘im this.” The demon says, the words still slightly strained. “He ain’t an easy ride. Keeps tryin’ to break out and talk to you, tell you not to listen to me and go find Sammy.” The demon laughs again, and it might be the worst sound you’ve ever heard. It’s Dean’s laugh, but inverted. Cold and hateful and wrong. This is so fucking wrong.
“Shut up.” You mutter, taking an unsteady step back, and the demon raises Dean’s brows.
“Well, darlin’, you’re just breakin’ poor Dean’s heart. Hurtin’ him, tellin’ him to shut up, tyin’ him up-“ The demon cuts himself off, twisting Dean’s face into a smirk. “Well, that one’s a funny little case, ain’t it. He’s too much of a pathetic little bitch to admit it-“
You scowl, standing a little taller. “Dean’s notpathetic-“
The demon pushes on as if you’d said nothing at all. “But he’s kinda into this. Likes the idea of you havin’ some fun with him however you want, pleasin’ you however you like, or,” the Demon’s grin grows mocking and crude. “Switchin’ places. Keepin’ you down to find out if he can make you scream louder than when he does that thing with his tongue, see if he can get you beggin’ all pretty. Nothin’ gets him goin’ more than when you beg-“
“Shut up.“ You hiss, grabbing your phone off your bed. “I don’t know what your fucking angle is, but I’d recommend you get out of my-“ you catch yourself, taking a short breath before plowing on. “Out of Dean-“
The demon caught it, though, and his smirk grows. “Your what? He ain’t your boyfriend, darlin’. But Jesus, he hates that too. I don’t think you’d keep indulgin’ this asshole if you could spend a second in here with ‘im like I am. He’s fuckin’ obsessed with you, it’s goddamn pathetic-“
You clench your jaw so hard you might break teeth, your movements rough as you scroll for Sam’s contact. “I said shut up-“
“He thinks he’s fuckin’ poison.” The demon sneers, and you can’t look at Dean’s face—can’t see it cruel and filled with hate—or you might start crying. “And shit, darlin’, he’d like to poison you. He’d like to do everythin’ to you. Fuck ya’ and buy you flowers and marry ya’,” the demon cackles, and you feel a little dizzy. “’S why he’s been doin’ this stupid fuckin’ charade all week. He wants to bruise ya’ and bite ya’, then whine and bitch about how he’s so disgustingly in love with you-“ The demon hacks a slight cough, and shakes his head with a mocking grimace. “Makes me fuckin’ sick, how needy and weak this piece of shit is-“
“I said,” you cross back to the chair, fisting Dean’s blood-covered shirt in your hand and yanking him up with cold words and words you hate on your tongue. “Shut the fuck up. And get out of him, before I fucking kill you.”
The demon just laughs at you, spit covering your face. “You ain’t gonna kill me, Sweetheart. Not while I’m in your precious Dean’s body. Not while you got me here, tellin’ you all the nasty things he’d like to do to ya’, how he worships the ground your fuckin’ walk on and dreams about you sayin’ you love a pile of trash like him-“
You tear off your own jacket, bundle up the sleeve, and stuff it the demons mouth. You don’t fucking care if it’s trapped in Dean’s body until Sam gets back, you can’t keep listening to it. Listening to it fucking lie and rip you apart with only words, watch it eyes gleam as it puppets Dean’s mouth to torture you. Why the fuck would it say things like that. It can’t be to hurt Dean, because all he’ll have to do is tell you when this is over that he’s sorry about what the demon said, and that it’s all just lies. And the demon doesn’t know—can’t know—that it just ripped your heart out of your chest and ran it through a meat-grinder. It doesn’t make any fucking sense, and you feel like your skin is trying to fly off your body, and Dean’s still covered in blood and it’s horrible- 
Your phone buzzes on the floor—slightly cracked from being suddenly dropped—and it’s Sam. When you pick up he doesn’t wait to hear you before he launches into frantic words, practically shouting into the speaker.
“Found it!” He sounds a little out of breath, and you wouldn’t doubt that he’s been running back to the car. “Can you put me on-“
“Yep.” You press speaker, ripping your jacket out the demons mouth and turning the volume all the way up. “Go.”
Sam starts to recite a long, fancy string of Latin words, and you can’t bear to see Dean’s body thrash and roar and fold in pain, but you need to make sure the demon goes. That when Sam finishes and Dean’s eyes start to flutter, it’s safe to thank Sam, hang up the phone, and fall to your knees at Dean’s side.
“Dean,” you cup his jaw, angling his head slightly back. “Shit, Dean, please say something-“
He moans your name, and you almost start crying in relief, dropping your head carefully onto his leg. 
“I, shit-“ Dean’s voice is hoarse as he pulls slightly at the bonds around him. “I’m happy to see you too, Sweetheart, but I kinda need you do untie me-“
“Fuck, sorry-“ You scramble with the ropes, scanning over his body as you do. “I’m gonna go get Sam’s medkit, can you take your shirt off-“
“Well, I’d usually make you but me some dinner- shit-“ He’d already started to pull his shirt off, his whole body shuddering as his arms tried to raise up. 
“Dean-“
“Gimme three, I’ve got it-“
“No, you don’t. I’m cutting your shirt off, just-“ You move to your feet, pointing a stern finger at him. “Stay.”
He raises his hands, flinching slightly at the movement. “Yes, ma’am.”
Neither of you speak for a long while. You throw yourself entirely into his stitches, tossing the bloodied rags of his shirt into the trash and stealing small at Dean’s handsome, exhausted features. He’s watching you the whole time, his mouth opening and closing like he wants to say something but it’s sure where to start. When he finally clears his throat, you hum, keeping your hands steady on the stitches.
“This fucking sucks.” He grumbles, and you huff a dry laugh. 
“Yeah. It really does.” You pull another stitch through the gash, and Dean winces. “Shit, I’m sorry-“ 
“Don’t apologize.” He mutters. “I should be apologizing to you.” 
You frown up at him, your hands coming to a still. “Why?” 
“I let that asshole get one up on me.” He grunts, refusing to meet your eyes. “Couldn’t get a hold over him, either. Let him say all that shit to you-“ 
Something cracks in your heart, but you just shrug. “That’s not on you, Dean. Demon’s lie, you don’t have to explain it-“ 
Now Dean’s frowning at you. “What?” 
“The demon,” you mumble, your face flushing slightly. “What he said. I get it, it’s what they do, you don’t need to-“ 
“The demon didn’t,” Dean coughs, his face redder than you’ve ever seen it, his voice almost nervous. “It didn’t lie. He was a dick about how he said it, but he didn’t lie.”
“I, um, I don’t-“ You gape at him for a long second, trying to figure out if he’s joking. This isn’t something Dean would joke about, but that just means you must have heard him wrong. The demon said Dean loved you, and Dean didn’t love you—you haven’t even allowed yourself to entertain the thought outside of secret fantasies and feverish dreams—so the demon lied. The demon lied. The demon had to have lied, but why would Dean-
He says your name, tone cautious and features soft when you blink at him. “Lost you for a second, Sweetheart, are you-“
“I’m okay.” You mumble, refocusing on the stiches. “I’m probably just tired, I thought I heard you say-“
“That I love you?”
You swallow. There it is again. “I-“
He says your name again, careful fingers brushing hair from your face. “Look at me.”
You can’t. You don’t know what’s going on, and there’s still so much blood. 
Dean hand moving under your chin and guides your gaze up, you lips parting slightly as your eyes meet his. He’s scanning over you, a slight furrow to his brow, and you can’t stop your hand from moving up and wiping a little blood off his cheek.
“Dean-“
“Never mind.” He mutters, shaking his head slightly. “Thought that we, uh, never mind.”
When you finish the stitches—your hands shaking slightly, your head spinning with confusion—you force him to shower first. It gives you time to spiral down, down, down, your brain turning desperately to figure out what that was. Why Dean would say that, why he’s acting so strange, why the demon would say that, why Sam’s being such a dick and insisting that he’s getting a second room, because Dean would—allegedly—rather have you here as the three of you had already been rotating through the floor, couch, and bed. 
Which means you’re stuck with alone Dean for the night. And he’s not fully looking at you when he exits the shower, and you’re mostly just mumbling to each other, and he doesn’t love you but he looks like a kicked puppy. He picks up your own blood-covered jacket, helps you carefully out of your seat, takes the soapy rag from your hands, and flat out refuses to sit until you move to the shower.
And the water doesn’t help. You feel cleaner, but the steam makes your head spin all the more, and you can’t stop picturing Dean’s fallen, almost pained features, and playing the demons words over in your mind.
Dean’s disgustingly in love with you. He worships the ground you walk on and dreams about you saying you love him. And you do love him, but he doesn’t love you, and it’s dangerous to hope that he’d love you, and-
And he still looks so beaten down when you exit the shower. He barely looks at you as you cross the room, his attention wholly on your jacket, and when you drop on the bed and clear your throat, you could sworn he pales.
“Are you,” you swallow, forcing your voice to be stronger. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yep” He mutters, still not looking up. “Stitches are fine, Sweetheart. Good work.”
You flush slightly, but push on. “And your head?”
“Pounding like a bitch, but I’ve gotten through worse.” He shrugs, and words start to creep like vomit up your throat. “We’ll grab Sam in the morning and get goin’-“
“What did you mean?” You blurt, and Dean freezes. “When you said the demon wasn’t lying?”
Dean sighs, and drops the rag, running his hands over his face before turning to you, his voice low and elbows braced on his knees. “What I said.” He grunts, his eyes now refusing to leave yours. “He didn’t lie.”
“About-“
“All of it.”
Your breathing is shallow, your voice barely a whisper, but you have to ask. It will ruin everything, but you need to ask.
But you’re a coward, and you ask the wrong thing.
“Why did you tell the country club we were married?”
Dean lets out a low, humorless chuckle. “Because I thought it would be fun. I’d get to call you my wife and see you blush all freakin’ week, and this case was gonna be shit so I thought what the hell.”
“Oh.” You whisper, unsure what to make of that. “Okay.”
Dean still doesn’t look away. If anything his eyes sear into you as his voice drops lower, his expression darkness and unreadable. “How’d you figure out I was possessed?”
You’d practiced this. You just did. You just knew it wasn’t him. That’s all you have to say, and you can’t. Something grabs your tongue and all you can say is the truth.
“Because I know you.” You mumble, unable to break his gaze. “And that wasn’t my Dean.”
“Your Dean,” He chuckles, shaking his head like he doesn’t believe you. “Wasn’t sure I was your anything, kid-“
“Well, I didn’t think you loved me.” 
You say the words before you can actually think them through, and time freezes. Dust seems to the hanging static in the air, red water still and motionless on the table, the hum of the bathroom fan stuck on one long note, and you and Dean both trapped in place. Neither of you strong enough to speak, but not weak enough to run, and why did you say that, Dean doesn’t love you-
“I didn’t think you’d want to hear it.” He’s searching over your face, words low and whole body tensed. “And I’d try to take it back for you, but-“
“Don’t take it back!” You almost yelp, and Dean’s eyes widen slightly. “I don’t want you to take it back, I just- I don’t-“
“You don’t believe me.” 
You nod weakly, wishing he would look away. Wishing Dean would just let you curl into yourself and hide for a million years, until this ends. Until this sore heat of shame over your skin and blooming warmth of hope that Dean might, maybe, really, possibly love you both die a quiet, easy death.
But he doesn’t look away. Dean pushes himself out of the chair with a grunt, walks on unsteady legs to stand before you, and takes your face between his hand, his words deep and firm.
“I love you,” he says your name, lowering his face to yours. “And I know it’s not what you want, but I do. I won’t apologize for it, but if you’re done messing around with me because of that, I’m never gonna make you pretend you love me back-“
You’d been sent into a daze of Dean loves you, he’s saying it himself and it’s the truth and he loves you, and that snaps you out of it. You close the last breath of space between your lips without effort, and this is a long, lazy, peaceful kiss that people without blood and demons would have. It’s cementing, steeling it fully into you that Dean loves you. You’ll never have to try and force yourself to hate him, because it’s shit work to hate Dean Winchester and there’s no point it anymore. He loves you, and it’s impossible to doubt that he loves you when he’s kissing you like this—not invasive but deep, not demanding but still dragging small moans and happy sighs from your throat, holding your cheek with one hand and cupping the back of your head with the other—so it’s not a war with yourself push him back a little and finally say words that have been stuck in your throat for years.
“I love you too.” You smile at him, and his eyes flash. “I don’t have to pretend, and this is what I want, so please,” you take a shaking breath, moving your hand to hold his against you. “Please don’t apologize for this. And please,” you lean a little further forward, bumping your nose with his as he continues to stare. “Keep messing around with me, Dean. I love you, so I’d-“
You cut yourself off with a squeak as Dean pulls you back into a kiss, this one heavier and sloppier, leaving you with ragged breath and puffed lips. Your hands curl into his shirt as he drops onto the bed at your side, hauls you over him with only a low, slightly pained grunt, and looks up at you with a slight frown on his face.
“That son of a bitch kissed you.”
“I thought it was you,” you mumble, tracing a small patten on his chest with one finger. “Sorry-“
“I’m not mad at you,” Dean gives you an amused look, pressing another, smaller kiss to your lips. “I’m mad at that douchebag, for trying to get with my girl.”
His words are mumbled against your lips, settling deep and warm in your stomach, and you can barely manage a hum of, “Oh. Okay.”
He chuckles, his hand moving under your shirt to run up the skin of your waist, your body shivering with pleasure at the touch. “I’d like to fuck you,” he mutters your name, his eyes on yours so attentive and dark that you might agree to jump off a cliff if he asks. “But my doctor said I need to take it easy-“
“I’m your doctor,” you gasp, dropping your brow to Dean’s as he brushes the underside of your breast. “And I think that- shit, Dean-“ He’s adjusted you in his arms, settling your core right over the obvious, proud bulge in his jeans. “If we take it easy, and you promise to let me stay on top-“
Dean shakes his head, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. “That’s gonna be a real hard,” he ruts up into you, and you whimper. “Promise to keep, babygirl-“
“Well it’s that,” you lean back, giving him a stern glare. “Or nothing, Winchester. Your choice.”
He gives you a look of mock disbelief. “I can’t believe I fake married someone so freakin’ mean to me-“
“I can.” You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, your own lips curling up slightly. “What’s it gonna be.”
Dean narrows his eyes at you, his hand trailing down your stomach to cup you right over your pussy as he drawls. “I think you should make that choice, Sweetheart. Tell me exactly how you want me to fuck you.”
“I-“ You lean forwards, burying your face in his neck to try and stifle your moans. “I already-“
“You said you stay on top, but that can mean a million things,” he mutters your name, kissing right under your ear. “I can fuck up into you, or you can ride me, or,” Dean starts to rub you through your pants, his thumb drawing rough, taunting circle over your clit. “I can finger fuck this pretty pussy until you cum all over my fuckin’ hand.”
“Dean,” you moan against his skin, your nails digging into his back. “Fuck, I-“
“This,” he moves his free hand up, playing with the waistband of your pants. “Seems to be getting in our way. Take it off for me.”
He doesn’t have to ask twice. You almost scramble to pull off your clothing—still manage to shoot Dean a glare for his low, teasing wolf-whistle when you’re fully bare before him—and almost throw yourself back onto him before you freeze. He’s still dressed—you can see the outline of where his pants must be becoming painful—and he’s still hurt. That’s why you had to stay on top in the first place. Dean won’t say it, but he’s in pain, and that’s more important than sex. You’re aching for him between your legs, you whole body whining to be pressed to his, but you can’t let him injure himself.
So you drop to your knees, help him out of his pants and boxers—feeling Dean track your every movement, remaining silent as you work—and swallow as his cock springs into view. You’ll never get tired of the sight of it. Big and meant to fit so well inside of you, pretty because it’s Dean’s, and he’s not really capable of being ugly.
Dean grunts your name as you take him in your hand, your fingers trailing over his strong thighs as you start to pump him slowly.
You smile up at him, raising your brows. “Do you like that?”
“Of course I fucking like that-“
“Do you love me?”
You say the words innocently, squeezing your hand lightly, and he blushes slightly, throwing his head back as he groans. “Shit, Sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me-“
“I do,” you whisper, pressing an open mouth kissed to the broad, red tip of his cock. “You do it to me too.”
“’S not-“ You take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and letting him bump against your throat, and he cuts himself off with another groan. “Fuck, ’s not the same-“
You pop off of him with a frown. “It is. I love you too.”
“I know, pretty girl.” He mutters, moving hold your cheek, his cock twitching in your hands as you lean into the touch. “But you don’t gotta do this for me just cause you love me-“
“I like doing it.” You shrug, licking a long stripe up his shaft to prove your point, savoring the grunt it draws from his chest, the way his hand moves to fist in your hair. “I might love you, Dean Winchester,” you grin at him, replacing your mouth with your hand as you speak. “But I also really just like sucking your cock.”
“Son of a-“ Dean’s voice is a growl, his eyes darting over your face like he’s looking for something. “You’re- fuck it.”
You squeak as he pulls you up, back to his lap, and impales you on his cock in one smooth motion. 
“Dean!” You try to gain a little power over your mouth, your fingers running over his fresh stitches. “Your doctor did not, fuck-“ He rolls his hips, and you bite your tongue to stop your moan. “Winchester, your doctor did not approve picking heavy things up-“
“You’re not that heavy.” He shrugs, kissing your shoulder as his arm braces you against this chest, his words teasing and low. “And lucky me, my fake doctor is also my fake wife, and they’re both,” he moves his mouth back over yours, muttering against your lips. “Begging me to fuck them all pretty.” His other arm wraps around you, starting to guide the rolls of your hips, his eyes on yours so soft for how he’s splitting you open and bumping against the deepest places inside of you. “And get them to cum all over my fuckin’ cock.”
You moan, throwing your head back as you start to grind down on him, and you’ve done this a million times before, but it feels different. You’ve fucked Dean enough that you must have covered every base—rough and fast and soft and slow and teasing and desperate and angry and blissful—and it’s the same to your body, but different to your mind. Dean’s hands still ignite fire on your skin as he holds you as close as he can manage, but you’re not worried about how they might drop away. He’s still kissing you everywhere he can reach, but there’s nothing turning in your head about how he might not like what he tastes. He’s doing it all right—he always does it right—but it’s so much more.
You squeeze around his cock and he moans your name, almost pinning you into his laps as he latches his mouth to your upper chest. Sucking and nipping you where people can see. He’s always kept his small habit of marking you to where it won’t be visible, where people won’t jokingly ask you who got messy. But people will see this, and he knows that, and it seems to spur him on. His mouth crashes back into yours, his hands keeping your rhythm on him steady as his mouth and cock unravel you above him.
“You gonna cum, Sweetheart?” Dean growls down your throat, and you just nod frantically, swiveling your hips around him. 
“So close,” you whine, trying to find just a little more friction. “Please, Dean-“
He starts to slam up into you, holding you steady with one arm as he leans back, bracing himself on the bed. His stitches are somehow still closed, he’s looking at you like you’re all the world gathered for him to hold, and his mouth is lowering to pull your nipple between his teeth. Keeping you right on the edge as his thrusts grow uneven, his hands bruising on your skin in the best way.
“Fuck, you wanna cum with me, babygirl?” He groans, flicking your nipple with his tongue before pulling you down to him, dragging you into a kiss of spit and need and pure fucking desire. “Think you can ask me real pretty-“
“Please. Please, Dean, please.” You gasp, your clit starting to rub against his abdomen, your whole body so close to bursting into flames. “So fucking close, need it so bad-“
He bites on your lower lip, smirking at your high whine. “Good girl.” He jerks up into you one last time, the movement rough and uncontrolled, and groans into your ear. “Cum.”
You might have screamed, but everything goes blinding and loud and holy like a hymn you only know in the language of Dean, and you never want to stop singing for the rest of your life. You can hear him shouting your name as he spills up into you, but you’re so high on your pleasure— on the smell of Dean everywhere around you and his lingering taste on your tongue—that it’s distant and only a rush of good. Dean feels good, and he’s muttering in your ear that he loves you, so you think everything might be really good.
And it is. This isn’t blood or work. This is Dean’s cock still buried inside you, his hot, warm cum running down your thighs, and your hands tracing over his warm skin to check that his stitches are still together. This is your face pressed into the crook of Dean’s neck, his hands combing through your hair, and a priceless sense of peace. It’s always lingered before, but it would wash away as you both left the bed, and drift into nothing as you wandered back into the real world. It feels more certain now. It feels more set into your bones, and you know you’ll see more blood and stitch more wounds, but this is going to stay. Dean is going to stay, and you have all of him. And that’s welcoming this sense of peace that’s so finite and rare, you’d have to be insane to let it go. 
So you won’t. And you won’t have to cling to him, because Dean isn’t foolish enough to let you go either. You’ll keep all of Dean, he’ll do the same for you, and he’ll keep igniting a spark in your gut by saying my girl that you won’t ever allow to go out. 
End Note: Look! A Rare Dean Winchester dealing with his own emotions! Spotted in the wild! And I am physically incapable of writing a short one-shot, and I'm very sorry about that.
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northopalshore · 12 days ago
Text
Venus in the
Union persona chart
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:¨ ·.· ¨: Other posts : Union Masterlist | Main Masterlist 🍪
`· . ୨୧ Venus here tells you how you show your affection to your future spouse when you first met. How you flirt with them, how you show them appreciation, your first date etc.
Aries (°1,°13,°25) | 1st House
Perhaps you will be "brave" for them, like being rebellious or insisting that they are the one you want to see. If your parents don't agree with you then you'd be backing them up for example. You could also be doing things by yourself to see them; trips or travelling especially if aspected with Sagittarius or pisces. You also flirt by complimenting them one second and taking it back the next. Teasing them, playing with them, tempting them. Don't tell me you've forgotten how horny Aries is (though sometimes it can come off as all bark & no bite). You love getting a reaction from your person, keeping them on edge. There is a part of you that is ecstatic every time you meet them. You might feel like a teenager all over again.
Taurus (°2,°14,°26) | 2nd house
You will be very generous with gifts & trinkets. Perhaps you will love to buy things for your significant other when you first meet or get to know each other. Paying for trips, meals, gifts. Giving them verbal affirmations as simple as "you look wonderful today" or "this suits you a lot". You will be very attentive to what they like to wear and what they eat; if they favour certain brands or desserts, you will keep a mental note of that to surprise them with in the future. In the second house, you are a big gifter, the only thing that would beat you is if Venus was in Capricorn & in the 2nd house lmao. You will also adopt a very relaxed approach, taking your time to really get to know your partner.
Gemini (°3,°15,°27) | 3rd house
You flirt by taking, connecting through mental foreplay, wanting to see their reactions, know their likes and dislikes and understand just what it is that makes them tick. You compliment generously, but there is always a somewhat teasing tone that comes with it. You could spend your nights talking with each other. You enjoy making your partner laugh and feel comfortable. Although you love to compliment them unlike Libra you are more realistic; complimenting them on certain skills or talents they may show you. There may be a fast paced rhythm between you as well, feeling excited when you meet them or every time you get together.
Cancer (°4,°16,°28) | 4th house
When you first start dating, a lot of your dates may be indoors or at your house, somewhere comfortable to the both of you. You could cook for them, or make things for them. Recommend your favorite food or hobbies, go on long walks or out for dinner. You enjoy just being engulfed in your partner's presence. You flirt by subtle caressing or handholding, touching. Nothing too abrupt. You may find yourself clinging to your partner often, laughing at almost all the jokes that they do, really getting in your feelings. You baby them, but at the same time you like being treated like one too. This is the "my man, my man, my man" placement lmaoo. You could be more.. submissive around them at first. Embodying the traditional aspects of a woman or the feminine counterpart in the relationship.
Ex: Beyoncé has Venus in Capricorn (°28 cancer) in her Union persona chart. She has always given much credit to her husband saying "he taught her how to be a woman" in past interviews. Lana del Rey has Venus in Virgo (°28 cancer) in her Union persona chart... Nobody is surprised. Just check her catalog.
Leo (°5,°17,°29) | 5th house
This is the placement that will make you want to go to every movie, every musical and every party with your lover. You flirt by telling them that they are the shining star, the ensemble cast. Perhaps you may often tell your partner how gorgeous they look, and how they alone light a passionate fire in your heart. You are very playful and flirtatious with them. You may borderline worship them, and expect the same treatment as well. Physical attraction is also undeniable. Dates will be very fun and entertaining, often involves going to touristic places or something "classic" i.e movie dates, dinner dates, bowling with friends. No matter how mundane, there is still this playful spark between you. This is also the placement that fills your dates with friends, where you'll be playing games or something together.
Virgo (°6,°18) | 6th house
You will be very invested in their routine, love asking how their day went and whether they are doing well or not. Paying attention to the smallest details about them, slightly nagging them lmao. You flirt by taking care of them, thinking of them, doing things for them you know means the most. You'll make them playlists to listen to, and ask for their opinion; that's right! A Virgo asking for someone else's perspective seems like such a foreign concept doesn't it? But here, you actually take the time to listen or apply their opinions. You could think of "servicing" them in a way, being useful to them, wanting them to see you as someone they see as valuable. I find that people with this placement are always with their partner whether on the phone or going out somewhere. Spending almost everyday together in some way.
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Libra (°7,°19) |7th house
You are extremely romantic. You flirt like you're the main protagonist in a French romance film, hitting all the clichés. You adopt this calm persona, wanting to woo your partner with special dates just for the two of you. Ah, I can hear the distant clinking of wine glasses. The light from the candles you lit waved for a moment as the glasses hit each other. See, you've got me in the mood too. A lot of kisses, a lot of touching, caressing, and smooth talking. A true lover. If you're a man, you'll do everything gentleman like, and if you're a woman then you adopt the essence of feminine energy. Suddenly, you're all fancy and demure hoho. This is also a "gifter" placement, but not like Taurus or Capricorn. You give a gift according to the moment or as an "etiquette" like flowers on every romantic date or when you're coming over.
Scorpio (°8,°20) | 8th house
"Oh they fuckin". I'm kidding, but not really. On one hand you may be very cautious with your partner, keeping somewhat of a distance between them and yourself. On the other hand, you can't keep your hands to yourself. You get closer by sharing things about yourself that you wouldn't normally share with other people. You flirt by locking eyes, exchanging how you feel through body language. Soul bonding, whether you bone or not is out of the question as what's certain is that intimacy that you share. Feeling as close as possible to your partner in whatever way that you yourself are most comfortable with. You flirt by asking them more about themselves, their greatest desires, fears and pivotal moments that have happened in their life prior to getting to know you & finding reliable common ground. Sharing the things you don't normally share with others, almost right off the bat. They could help you conquer some sort of fear as well or vice versa.
Ex: Zendaya has Venus in Scorpio (°15 Gemini) in the 2nd house in the union personal chart. She seems to have a very chill but at the same time very trusting relationship with Tom Holland. Their chemistry was evident from very early on (have you seen those spiderman interviews? Lmaoo)
Sagittarius (°9,°21) | 9th house
You adopt a very friendly way of flirting, cracking jokes and making your partner laugh. Pushing them to do new things or open their mind to different forms of dates. You could act as their personal therapist in some scenarios. Perhaps you will be teaching them to have more fun or to let loose and not focus too much on the little things, calming their nerves. You'll teach them to be laid back and truthful with how they express themselves. Supporting them and making dumb grand gestures to make them happy. You could also travel for them i.e .meet them at their country, town or house. You could act quite dorky as well. What's important to you is the understanding that you share with your partner. Learning about them, similar to Gemini & Scorpio, but you're at your own pace and it doesn't really come off too intensely.
Capricorn (°10,°22) | 10th house
You will be a strong support system for your partner. You show them affection by making room for them in your schedule, helping them solve problems and giving them full encouragement. That being said, you're not going to be supportive of them doing something irrational. You also enjoy buying things for them, providing the things that they need, buying things that they like. You'll like to act as the "man" or "provider" in your relationship early on, even if you are a woman. You show affection by keeping your word, showing up and acting on your plans and promises.
Ex: My friend has Venus in the 10th house in her Union persona chart. She always had a habit of spoiling her FS, spending money to go visit him at his state, paying for his meals. However, her FS also has Venus in Capricorn so.. they end up transferring each other the money insisting that it's fine lmao. Both have the mindset of a provider.
Aquarius (°11,°23) | 11th house
You will treat them like a true friend, a partner in crime, someone you can trust and do things with. You flirt by taking your partner out to do fun, wild, experimental things together, going out of your comfort zone. Similar to Aries, but more relaxed. It could also mean taking a more casual approach to your relationship, not being completely attached at first, allowing each other to be independent. It could be a slow burn type of relationship, where you don't really realize you are in love with them until later i.e natural progression. You might not do too many romantic activities, as what's important to you is spending time with them how you want or what's most compatible with you and your partner's wishes.
Ex: My parents both have Venus in Aquarius in a Leo degree (°29 & °19), they told me their dates were pretty ordinary (their words not mine lol) went out with friends, went to dinner, and watched movies together.
Ex 2: Jennie has Venus in Scorpio (°15 Gemini) in the 11th house. I'm not sure if Taehyung is end game for her, but from what I heard they seem to have a very chill relationship, granted very private and intimate which tracks with these placements.
Pisces (°12,°24) | 12th house
You are going to be head over heels for them lmao. Picturing marriage and your life far into the future even on the first date. Feeling incredibly romantic and drawn to your person. You get very sentimental around them too. It seems everything you do will revolve around your partner even if you didn't mean it to happen that way. All the songs you listen to, all the clouds in the sky resemble them now. You are also very forgiving and compassionate about your person, putting them on a pedestal and believing that they are unlike anyone you've ever been with before. You will flirt by opening up and listening to them, talking all day & all night, just enjoying the feeling that their presence brings to you. Some people with this placement will dedicate songs to their partner as well. There could be a tendency to get caught up in your own feelings however.
Ex: Ariana Grande has Venus in Cancer (°28 cancer) in the 12th house. Just listen to "Positions" you'll get the gist of it.
"Hey Nana..."
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₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑
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Thank you for reading ♡
@northopalshore
@northopalshore union 2024 all rights reserved.
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jestersjitters · 5 months ago
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Mini Bridgerton au
Sanji would be Anthony, looking for the Diamond of the season to take her as his wife.
Meanwhile, Zoro comes from abroad with his father and sister to find a husband for Perona, (Mihawk's heritage is in danger after his "divorce" with Shanks and they need to join another family as soon as possible).
This is not meant to be a serious au, I was just watching bridgerton and it gave me a laugh to imagine him as a Zosan. (And I have thought who the other characters will be, except for Franky, Brook and Jimbe)
Sanji vendría a ser Anthony, buscando al Diamante de la temporada para tenerla como esposa.
Mientras tanto, Zoro viene del extranjero con su padre y hermana para buscarle marido a Perona, (el patrimonio de Mihawk peligra después de su "divorcio" con Shanks y necesitan unirse a otra familia cuanto antes)
Esto no busca ser un au serio, solo estaba viendo bridgerton y me dio risa imaginarlo como un Zosan. (Y tengo pensado quiénes serán los demás personajes, excepto por Franky, Brook y Jimbe)
Open Comissions Comics
Open commissions fanart
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inky-duchess · 2 months ago
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Fantasy Guide to Dukes and Duchesses
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This new series will offer an indepth view of each noble title in the standard European hierarchy of noble titles. Here we will discuss what they are, their lands, their jobs and everything you need to know when writing them.
What is a Duke exactly?
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A Dukedom is the highest rank in most noble hierarchies. The Duke rules a section of land within the Kingdom known as a Duchy, for example the Duke of Lancaster or can be a standalone title, Duke of Rothesay. A Dukedom is inherited through the family line, from father to so but the title is bestowed on the by the monarch. Monarchs can also give their children Dukedoms, and often do. For example the second son of the King of France would be the Duc d'Orleans.
Titles, Titles
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The Duke is the highest ranking in the land. They are the first among the nobility, among the wealthiest, with the most prestige. A Duke is referred to as 'Your Grace'. If one is meeting a Duke in a social setting, nobles would call them Duke whilst underlyings would call them "Your Grace". A Duke would also hold subsidiary such as an Earldom or two, a Barony or three. But would go by Duke as it is the highest title. Fun fact, Carlos Fitz-James Stuart (pic above) has the most titles:
He is: Carlos Fitz-James Stuart, Duke of Alba, Grandee of Spain, Duke of Berwick, Grandee of Spain, Duke of Huéscar, Grandee of Spain, Duke of Liria and Jérica, Grandee of Spain, Count-Duke of Olivares, Grandee of Spain,Marquess of Carpio, Grandee of Spain, Marquess of La Algaba, Marquess of Barcarrota, Marquess of Castañeda, Marquess of Coria, Marquess of Eliche, Marquess of Mirallo, Marquess of la Mota, Marquess of Moya, Marquess of Osera, Marquess of San Leonardo, Marquess of Sarria, Marquess of Tarazona, Marquess of Valdunquillo, Marquess of Villanueva del Fresno, Marquess of Villanueva del Río, Count of Lemos, Grandee of Spain, Count of Lerín, Grandee of Spain, Constable of Navarre, Count of Miranda del Castañar, Grandee of Spain, Count of Monterrey, Grandee of Spain, Count of Osorno, Grandee of Spain, Count of Andrade, Count of Ayala, Count of Casarrubios del Monte, Count of Fuentes de Valdepero, Count of Fuentidueña, Count of Galve, Count of Elves, Count of Modica, Count of San Esteban de Gormaz, Count of Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Count of Villalba, Viscount of la Calzada, Lord of Moguer.
The Family of the Duke
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The wife of a Duke is a Duchess. If a Duke is married to a man, while there is no real world examples, I would personally say they would take one of those other subsidiary titles I mentioned above. Same thing with a ruling Duchess and her wife. However, a ruling Duchess's husband usually sticks with whatever title he came with. The heir of the Duke usually inherits their parent's next highest title, usually an Earldom. The other children are styled as Lord/Lady Firstname.
The Role of the Duke
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As the Duke is leader of the Duchy, which is a large section of the kingdom. They are in control of this section, the highest power in law and order, politics and all things in that section with only the monarch above. They handle administration at the highest level, raising troops from their duchy for the crown in times of war, see the collection of taxes and sometimes they might even advise the monarch if they are offered a place of the monarch's council. They would also attend the monarch at their coronation.
Cribs
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Dukes like a lot of nobility would have multiple houses, manors, estates etc. Their homes would be the grandest in the land and the social hubs for the Duchy and even the country. A Duke would sometimes live at court when invited but would also have the homes in the capital. This vast portfolio can become a source of income as the Duke can rent them out or a handy way to shelf relatives who depended on them.
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sanakiras · 7 days ago
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BOUND BY BLOOD
PAIRING — yoon jeonghan x fem!reader
❝ WHO WILL YOU BE WHEN NO ONE CAN STOP YOU? ❞
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WORD COUNT — 23k
SYNOPSIS — in an attempt to escape your past, you join your mother when she moves in with her soon-to-be husband at the other side of the country. the only downside is that your new stepbrother causes you to sink deeper into the rabbit hole you were so desperately trying to leave behind.
TAGS — depictions of death, dark content (stepcest + incestuous undertones), mc and jeonghan are two fucked up pervs coming together to maximize their joint slay, explicit sexual content, red hair!jeonghan, author hates her fucking writing and is a raging perfectionist, do with this information what you will!
♪ — ethel cain - family tree,, charli xcx - apple,, ruelle - monsters,, boy harsher - pain,, lana del rey - in my feelings,, unloved - danger,, twin tribes - monolith,, banks - the fall
NOTE — title is not what u think it is i promise. do keep in mind that this is just fictional and nothing more than a silly idea i wanted to make into a story, so please (!) skip if the tags make you uncomfortable <3
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PROLOGUE
when he checks her pulse to see if she’s still alive, you see a single car nearing the scene, the driver of which you then recognize as the last person that should see this.
joshua hits the brakes and hurries out of the car. “i saw you drive off like crazy, what the hell happened—”
his words are caught in his throat when he sees the body.
“shua. she’s gone.” your voice is strained as the sobs remain choked-up in your throat, your shaky hands tugging at his arm.
tears well up in his eyes. “what the—how did this happen?”
jeonghan forces himself to sound remotely shaken up. “i just drove here and she ran in front of the car. it was an accident, i swear.”
but a part of joshua doesn’t buy it. “out of nowhere? what the fuck is this, jeonghan? are you lying to me?”
“no. i swear to you—”
but he doesn’t let him finish. “this is insane. we have to do something, tell the cops what happened here, and with her brother—”
it’s then that jeonghan’s softer approach fades into something meaner. he pushes him against the hood of the car, trying to talk some sense into him. “and what do you think the cops will say, huh? you think they’ll just smile at you for fessing up and let you walk out freely? you’re an accomplice to murder, shua. everyone you know will hate you. this will haunt your name for the rest of your life ― get it into your thick skull once and for all.”
joshua’s breathing quickens with his sobs. “i can’t deal with this the way you can. i can’t do it.”
“you can, and you will.” he grabs his face, wiping the fresh tears away. “you just have to breathe, and you deny. you deny everything. you were not here, okay? i need you to go home, she and i will fix this.”
“you can’t keep making me go through this. how many more deaths do i need to have on my conscience?”
jeonghan shakes his head calmly, embracing him, his one hand on the back of joshua’s neck. “it’s not your fault, shua. it’ll be okay, promise.”
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I. STRANGERS
[ SEVERAL MONTHS EARLIER ]
your mother has always had a habit of moving from relationship to relationship. the passing of your father, which happened when you were too young to remember, left her trying to find something in the men around her you highly doubted she ever would.
but that changed a few weeks ago. because apparently, she’s finally found herself a man she wants to stay with. or so she told you. you’ll have to take her word for it.
the one wish of yours she’s always respected was to keep her boyfriends away from you — the last thing you wanted was some guy trying to be a father figure, and since her frequent relationships were often short-lived, there wasn’t really a point to getting to know them. seeing as you departed from home for your freshman year of college nearly two years ago, it’s no surprise that you were barely able to keep up with your mom’s romantic life.
when you arrived home for the summer break, she told you she finally found someone she was madly in love with, happily showing off the shiny diamond sitting on her finger. her fiancé is apparently some rich man living a few hours away, in a huge house at the outskirts of the city.
she initially didn’t expect or plan for you to come live there with her, nor for you to transfer to a different university, though she figured it must’ve been because of what happened last year.
nevertheless, she was happy to have you with her.
and now, two days before starting your third year at a different school, you’re seated in the backseat of the rolls-royce with your mother, and all you can do is stare out the window while the car pulls through the tall gates.
the place is even bigger than you were expecting — a manor straight out of the movies. the last sunbeams of august shine on your face through the glass window as you gaze to the outside.
well, you suppose living here for a little while before you find your own place isn’t the worst thing in the world.
you’ve only met your mother’s future husband once prior to the engagement. you remember he introduced himself as the owner of a successful international hotel franchise. he’s not too bad, clearly doing his best to not act like a father to you whilst simultaneously trying to show you that you’re more than welcome.
once you’ve arrived and said your greetings, your mother looks around for a moment. “where’s your son? is he inside?” she asks, but her fiancé sighs in disappointment.
“no, his flight was delayed, unfortunately, so he’s staying there for the night. he’ll be home tomorrow.”
right, you almost forgot. the fiancé has a son who’s a couple months younger than you, and since university is only twenty minutes away from the house, he still lives here as well.
yeah, you’re not looking too forward to meeting the guy. your mom hasn’t met him yet either, nor do you have any idea what he looks like, but from what she’s told you, he’s around your age, wicked smart, and friendly.
as you go inside the house, you quickly realize that your mother managed to land herself a man with a massive bank account. expensive chandeliers, marble tiled floors with big carpets that don’t have a speck of dirt on them, staff that’s taking your belongings upstairs — you’re impressed.
a member of said staff shows you to your room, which could honestly be considered an apartment, given its size. aside from the spacious bed that could easily fit three people, the room is decorated with dim lighting, big glass windows with a view of the courtyard, a fireplace, and your own private walk-in closet and bathroom.
well, shit. maybe you should just ask your mom if her future husband would pay your tuition as well.
despite getting to sleep in the most beautiful room you’ve ever seen, your first night in the manor is restless, and you arrive at university with tired eyes, hoping the caffeine will kick in soon.
traffic was so shitty that you’re now running late as well, so you rush to the elevators to get to your class in time.
you have a lecture scheduled on the seventh floor, yet you don’t see the number on the display, and you don’t particularly feel like walking up a ridiculous number of stairs.
“you gotta be fucking kidding me.”
you look down at your phone to see if you got the number right, only to be greeted by a guy with dark hair and tiny silver hoop earrings standing beside you, clearly looking you in the eye. “everything okay?”
“i just—i’m new, and i gotta get to the seventh floor, and i don’t understand why this elevator doesn’t go there—”
he quickly interrupts you. “we have two elevator blocks. this one is for even-numbered floors, you need the other one. c’mon, i’ll show you.”
you walk after him, passing two corners before getting to the elevators that take you to the odd-numbered floors. he presses the button, gesturing to the free elevator about to go up.
“thanks for the help. you got a class too?”
“yeah. ninth floor, though,” he replies, smiling at you, “i’m joshua, by the way.”
joshua’s hair is neatly gelled back with one or two strands hanging out at the front. you notice his slightly red lips, strong jawline, and gentle smile.
the door of the elevator opens again, and you realize you’ve already made it to your stop.
“sorry, i gotta go. it was nice meeting you.” you tell him before getting out, failing to introduce yourself.
you faintly hear him say bye as you head into the lecture hall, a big sigh escaping you once you’re finally seated.
your first day consists of a lecture of two hours followed by a regular class of three hours. the experience of a long first day in a constantly crowded space has made you both anxious and tired, so you go outside, stumbling upon a secluded spot between the buildings you’ve had class in today.
it’s the quietest place you’ve come across so far. it allows you to take a breather, a moment to yourself in the hot mess that’s been the past couple weeks, if not months.
although you don’t smoke often, you do have a pack of cigarettes sitting in your bag — and you find yourself reaching for it. unfortunately, your lighter doesn’t really seem to be working today, and you can’t help but groan in annoyance. “fucking hell—”
“you know that’s against the rules, right?”
when you look to the side, you spot some guy standing across from you, his hands sitting in his pockets as if he’s got all the time in the world to have this conversation with you.
a snarky reply works its way out of your throat. “what, you planning to rat me out?”
he pretends to think about it for a moment. “wouldn’t be a lot of fun if i did that, right?”
all you do is shrug your shoulders as you attempt to light your cigarette again, but he suddenly stretches his arm out, holding up his own lighter to let him do it for you.
the gesture makes you stare at him from under your brows for a few seconds, but he doesn’t move a muscle, waiting for you to accept.
so you slightly lean forward, allowing him to light it, and he looks at you with a certain level of intrigue.
he’s got something interesting about him, aside from the fact that he’s ridiculously handsome. his hair is dyed in the shade of a dark red — burgundy, in this bright sunlight — where you guess his natural hair color must be a dark brown, given the color of his eyebrows.
while he’s not the tallest guy you’ve seen here so far, he still sticks out above you, his long legs and lean physique doing enough to make him appear quite tall. he wears a lazy smirk like it’s his default expression, and you’ll give it to him — if he was trying to get your attention, it worked.
he leans against the wall, watching you exhale the smoke. “i don’t think i’ve seen you around. are you a first-year?”
“there’s thousands of people attending here. of course you haven’t seen me before.”
“how straightforward of you.”
“do you prefer small talk?”
the corner of his lips curl up. “i don’t. my question still stands, though.”
“i’m in my third year. just transferred.”
“well, i guess you fit right in. this is the place where i always come to get away from everyone else.”
“is this your way of telling me i gotta go elsewhere next time?”
“took the words right out of my mouth.” the chuckle he lets out sounds low and relaxed. “no, you can come here and join me whenever you want. only if you’re good company, of course.”
you finally take the bait of engaging in the conversation with him and roll your eyes. “sorry to disappoint.”
“i doubt you’d disappoint me.”
“oh, please. you don’t even know me.”
“i do now.” jesus christ — does he always talk like that? like he knows more than you do? “but, if you want me to get to know you, you should tell me your name.”
his gaze becomes surprisingly intense in the blink of an eye, and something suddenly weighs down your body like feet glued to the floor. “i’d love to stay and chat, but i have a class to get to. i’m sure i’ll see you around, though.”
he hums in a bit of a smug way, as if he can look directly into your thoughts and see what you’re thinking. you feel his eyes burning in your back as you walk away from him, into the building, and you force yourself to regain your composure.
several hours later, just in time for dinner, you get back to the house, utterly drained.
the living room has dark walls with a few shiny brown bookcases that reach the ceiling, a comfortable sofa and several other chairs. if anything, the house is styled with rich, darker colors, creating a moody atmosphere, especially at night with the dim lighting.
your mother calls out to you once she notices you standing there. “honey, come here and introduce yourself, will you?”
she’s standing next to her fiancé, but there’s another person with them, whose back is facing you — and you suddenly spot the color of his hair.
when he turns around to face you, it feels as if the air is knocked out of your lungs.
you can’t be serious.
it’s so ridiculously cliché that part of you wants to laugh. what the fuck are the odds of the guy you met earlier today becoming your stepbrother?
though judging by the way his face falls, he was just as unaware of your identity as you were of his. not for long, of course — that damned grin is back on his face in seconds.
he takes a few steps over to you, extending his hand to formally introduce himself, as if you didn’t meet hours before. “i’m jeonghan.”
you stare at him with a deep frown but play along nonetheless, so you shake his hand, curtly saying your own name in response. he repeats it to himself with a softer voice than before, and you hate that you like the way your name sounds when he says it.
then you look down, realizing he’s still holding your hand, and you almost push him away, trying to act like his presence doesn’t affect you in any way whatsoever.
dinner goes by achingly slowly. your mother is being all social and just so damn eager to get to know her future stepson, asking him questions, clearly taking a liking towards him.
jeonghan tells her all kinds of stories, making sure to infuse his words with all the charm he’s probably got in that frail body of his. as you watch from the sidelines, you can tell he knows exactly what she’d like him to be, and he plays the role wonderfully.
well-mannered, friendly, charming, intelligent. he gives your mother subtle yet sickeningly sweet compliments and she just eats it all up.
every now and then, he glances at you, even shamelessly eyeing your chest up and down.
you hate that you’re still intrigued by him.
he asks you questions as well — small talk, of course. probably just for show. your answers are shorter than necessary, and he quickly notices you don’t feel like talking at all.
once dessert is over, you excuse yourself, saying you still have some work to do for tomorrow, and you exit the room immediately to ensure your mother isn’t able to protest.
the sound of footsteps behind you makes you quicken your pace up the stairs.
as you’re walking down the hall, heading to your room, his familiar voice pops up from behind you. “you should’ve just told me your name.”
of course he’s the one going after you.
you scoff at him. “wouldn’t have changed anything.”
jeonghan has his hands sitting in his pockets when he steps towards you. “you would’ve known who i was.”
“did you know who i was?”
“i didn’t, actually. when my dad told me i’d be getting a sister, i didn’t know what to expect.”
“sister?” the way you say it makes it sound like an insult. perhaps it is in this case. “we’re just strangers. nothing more than that.”
oh, jeonghan already likes you much more than he anticipated. there’s a certain sharpness to every single thing that comes out of your mouth ― you’re surprisingly cold. he wonders if you do it on purpose.
“such hostility.” he remarks, enjoying the fact that he’s standing so close to you.
“maybe i just don’t like you.”
“maybe. but you’re not all that talkative with my dad either, nor do you seem to plan on it.”
“so?”
“so, for someone who voluntarily came with her mom to live with complete strangers, you don’t come across as willing to bond with anyone. unless that’s not what you’re here for, of course.”
“what are you saying?”
“you’re a smart girl. if you already built a life for yourself in another place, why come here? you don’t seem ecstatic to be part of a new family.”
“i wanted the change.”
“did you?”
“yes. what does it matter?”
jeonghan won’t outright tell you he finds it strange you get so hostile when asked about your reasons for coming here. “i’m just curious.”
“has anyone ever told you it’s impolite to poke your nose into other people’s business?”
“if you’re going to hide something, at least come up with a better lie.”
waiting for you to respond, he resists the urge to bite his lip, and the two of you stare at each other for a moment, a palpable tension rising between you.
“look, i’m not hiding anything. i’m happy for my mom that she found someone she loves, but as for everything else that comes with it, you couldn’t pay me to care. so i suggest you go and play with someone who does.”
truth be told, you do sound convincing, but then he catches you eyeing his body, and he makes up his mind just like that.
the only person jeonghan wants to play with right now is you, and he’s not one to give up easily.
his voice is all sultry when he bids you goodnight. “good luck studying, sweetheart. i’ll see you tomorrow.”
as he walks away, you grab the handle of your door, but you still look at him going back down the hall, and you find yourself wondering what his room looks like, what he thinks of you ― and perhaps more importantly, what it is he’s planning.
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II. BEWARE OF YOUR BROTHER
“hey. jeonghan. d’you know her?”
joshua points to the other side of the hall, at which his best friend curiously looks in said direction, only to find you standing there, typing away at your phone while looking as bored as ever.
“why?” jeonghan asks, curious as to why joshua would ask for you, since he hasn’t yet mentioned the news of his dad’s fiancée having a daughter.
“i bumped into her last week, on monday. she’s new. i introduced myself to her but didn’t get her name ‘cause she was running late for a lecture.”
well, that’s unexpected.
of course you met both him and his best friend on the same day. fate has such a way of bringing people together, it’s laughable.
jeonghan just gestures for his friend to follow him, and the two of them walk over to you, after which he greets you. “hey, sis.”
you look up at him with pure annoyance. “i told you to stop calling me that.”
“i told you i wasn’t planning on it.” he retorts with one corner of his mouth curled upwards ― he reminds you of the cheshire cat.
joshua watches the interaction with a deep frown set into his forehead. “am i missing something here?”
“the woman my dad is marrying has a daughter. daughter being her.”
the younger of the two looks wildly surprised as he processes it. “you’re gonna be his stepsister?”
“so he likes to remind me, yes.” you answer, vaguely recognizing him. “wait, didn’t i meet you last week?”
“you did, yeah. though i didn’t catch your name.”
jeonghan watches as joshua’s tone becomes even sweeter than it already is, his smile only growing bigger once you’ve given him your name.
oh.
oh, no.
the discovery that joshua thinks you’re cute flips a switch in him. you are cute, don’t get him wrong, but he doesn’t like that his friend is looking at you that way.
“well, i gotta go to class. it was nice seeing you again, though, joshua.” you smile, proceeding to shoot your future stepbrother a glare, and he’ll take any attention you give him.
as soon as you’re out of earshot, joshua hits his shoulder. “why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner? is she living with you?”
“well, i had other priorities. and yes, she is.”
“i can’t believe she’s gonna be your sister. what’s she like? she doesn’t seem to wanna be around you all that much.”
“she’s distant. keeps to herself a lot.”
“so she’s awfully similar to you, then.”
similar to him? he doubts you are.
jeonghan averts his gaze to the courtyard, absentmindedly replying, “i suppose she is.”
a few days later, your mother’s scheduled an appointment for both you and jeonghan at a clothing store in the city to get your measurements taken for the wedding.
which is why jeonghan finds himself standing outside the classroom you’re currently having a lecture in. his class ended about fifteen minutes earlier than anticipated, so he figured he could just wait for you here, since you’d agreed to go to the store together and meet your mom there.
once your class is finished, the door opens, and a huge number of students walks out of the hall, passing him by. to his surprise, though, he hasn’t been able to spot you yet.
when it seems the last students have left, he frowns to himself. just for good measure, he peeks inside the lecture hall to check if anyone’s still inside.
the hall is almost completely empty, save for you and some other girl who’s talking to you.
but there’s something off about the conversation you’re having, because it doesn’t seem like you and her are friends ― matter of fact, you look colder than ever, and he feels the harshness of your glare even when it’s not directed at him.
but then you look his way, and he realizes he spoke too soon, because you certainly don’t seem to be softening up the slightest bit.
you abruptly walk down the stairs, moving right out of the lecture hall, blatantly ignoring him as if he’s not even there.
he turns around and follows you with a chuckle. “trouble in paradise?”
“why do you care?”
“well, i like a bit of drama.”
“i’m sure you do.”
“seriously though — you’ve been here for two weeks now and already made enemies? going for a new record?”
“why the hell were you even outside my classroom? we were supposed to meet by the entrance at the ground floor.”
“my class ended early. and you’re dodging the question.”
finally stopping in your tracks, you stare at him. that cockiness in his attitude is really starting to get on your nerves.
so you grab his arm, and he looks pleasantly surprised at the way you grab him, pulling him around the corner, away from the crowded corridor.
but then jeonghan suddenly finds himself backed into a corner ― no one has ever backed him into a corner. “what are you doing?”
your fingers glide across his double-breasted blazer, and you have such a tight hold on the fabric that it almost knocks the air out of his lungs.
the expression painted on your face is unreadable to him. cold, perhaps a bit smug, but not sharp.
“you know, i’m starting to think you have a thing for me. being unnecessarily nosy about my reasons for coming here, now listening in on my conversations… i don’t like being put under a loupe,” you shrug, “i’d prefer it if you stayed away from my private life.”
“your private life? we live in the same house.”
“we do. but the thing is ― i’ve seen what you do. observing from the sidelines, watching everyone and everything. you’re not as subtle as you think you are.”
he tilts his head. this is a challenge he’s never had before, and it actually excites him in a way. because who the fuck is this girl who’s onto him and his ways?
“is being observant a bad thing?”
“not with other people, no. with me, it is.”
“you sound self-serving.”
“i am self-serving. i’m also mean, condescending, maybe even a bitch. the only reason i’m tolerating your presence is because i have to.”
jeonghan finds your self-awareness admirable. he doesn’t move from his spot by the wall you’ve pushed him against, but he does lean his face a bit closer to yours. “see, that’s the thing, sis. you don’t have to, just like you didn’t have to move here.”
fuck. he’s got you there, and it causes you to get hostile towards him again. “stay out of my private life, jeonghan.”
“or what? afraid i’ll find something interesting?”
“we may be family now, but that doesn’t mean you can bother me as you please. everyone has secrets ― either you respect mine, or you don’t. i’m not as friendly when people pry into business that clearly isn’t theirs.”
the smug smile you have on your face is borderline provoking. it almost makes him want to pry into your business. something about the way you look at him and touch him just riles him up like nothing else.
he mirrors your expression. “are you threatening me?”
“consider it a piece of advice. it’s all your choice.” you shrug indifferently, and you shoot him a fake smile before backing away from him, heading down the hall by yourself, and jeonghan huffs, leaning his head back against the wall.
well, so much for bonding with you. he’ll admit that perhaps he’s been a bit too persistent in his teasing ― for all he knows, you could’ve been deeply unhappy back home. he should probably hold back on pushing you about your past for now. maybe you’ll even start liking him at some point. even if you haven’t shown much interest in him, he certainly finds you interesting, and he’d like to become closer with you.
and besides, he’s not one to back down from a challenge.
the ride to the store is completely silent. neither of you bother to say a word to each other, and upon your arrival, your mother happily greets you both, pushing you inside the luxurious shop. an employee smiles at you, handing you all a glass of champagne.
it’s a little early in the day, but fuck it. calming your nerves a bit would do you good.
while jeonghan gets his measurements taken, your mother tells you to pick out a few dresses you like, mainly to see what style of dress you’d like to wear to the wedding. once you’ve decided on something, you’ll be getting one custom-made, tailored to your body, all courtesy of jeonghan’s father.
eventually, once they’re done with jeonghan ― since he’s wearing a simple suit to the wedding ― he plops down on one of the soft, velvet chairs, scrolling through his phone, only putting it down when he hears you stepping out of the changing room to show the piece you’ve put on.
by the time you’re changing into your fourth dress, your mother mentions she’ll just quickly head into the bathroom, and once she’s gone, he hears you call out from inside the changing room. “mom! can you zip me up? i think it might be stuck halfway.”
he doesn’t hesitate to walk up to you, pushing the curtain to the side, but it’s only when you notice it’s him doing it that you jump in your spot.
“what the hell are you doing?” you ask with furrowed brows, and he motions for you to turn around.
“your mom went to the bathroom, so the only one currently around to fix your zipper is me.”
you scoff. “well, aren’t i lucky.”
jeonghan tells himself not to focus on your deep cleavage, so he looks down to where his hands are.
as he gently tries to get the zipper to move, since a piece of fabric seems stuck in it, he bites his lip. “i thought about what you said, and i… i think we may have started off on the wrong foot. i’ve been pestering you for… no real reason. sorry about that.”
you’re certainly surprised by the change in approach — but you’re not exactly trusting. “does this mean you’ll stop asking about it?”
“yeah, i will. promise.”
“okay. in that case, i should apologize for being a little too hostile. when something upsets me, i get mean. sorry.”
he lets out a low chuckle, finally managing to separate the fabric from the zipper. “don’t worry. i can handle a mean girl.”
his hand pushes your hair over your shoulder to avoid getting it caught before slowly zipping you up, and the sensation of his cold fingers brushing past your warm skin makes you shiver.
“turn around.” he says, and you raise your hands, not expecting him to compliment you, but jeonghan appears to be full of surprises. “this color looks pretty on you.”
with a raised brow, you say, “don’t push it.”
he laughs at your response, “i’m serious. really, you do. aren’t i supposed to be your overly honest brother?”
unfortunately, he is.
so you cross your arms. “what’d you think of the other dresses?”
“that second one was terrible. you still looked gorgeous, though.”
the comment comes so unexpected that it renders you speechless for a moment, which makes him smirk in satisfaction again.
when the curtain suddenly whips open behind him, you both turn to your mother, who appears ecstatic to hear her ever-so-charming future stepson is being so helpful to her daughter already.
which makes jeonghan figure she must’ve missed the way he’s been eyeing your curves in every single dress you’ve shown so far, just as she’s been missing how your cheeks heat up when you catch him staring at you with that glass of champagne still sitting in his hand.
it’s all you’re able to think about during the ride home, and the rest of the evening.
the house is huge, yet it feels empty when jeonghan isn’t home. he left to go meet up with some friends for dinner after you were done at the store, and you find yourself restless over the things he said today.
you have difficulty trusting people, and you probably shouldn’t trust a guy like him, yet a part of you wants to ― badly, for whatever reason.
it’s the middle of the night when you reach for your bathroom cabinet to get some aspirin, and you come to the realization that you forgot to buy a new pack, so your only option is to either suck it up or head down to the kitchen.
in a white tank top and loose-fitted sweatpants, you quietly make your way down the stairs, huffing when you see all the different cabinets you’re still not used to. it takes you a few minutes of searching until you stumble upon the drawer with medicine, and you take the new pack to smuggle it to your own room.
“what’re you doing?”
the voice behind you popping out of nowhere nearly gives you a heart attack. “jesus fucking christ―can you stop?”
“stop what? i just walked in.” jeonghan replies in the same tone, grabbing your lower arms as if to make sure you remain standing. “i thought you’d be asleep, not ransacking a kitchen drawer.”
“i was supposed to be asleep, but i got a headache. obviously.”
he watches you gesture to the strip of aspirin on the counter and lets out a noise of understanding. “want me to make you a cup of tea? it might help you sleep.”
if you weren’t so tired already, you’d let him, but you shake your head. “no, it’s fine. thanks for offering though. you had a fun night?”
“yeah. maybe you should come with next time. i’m sure my friends would like you.” he almost makes the mistake of mentioning joshua asked for you, remembering to keep that to himself.
there’s something you’re dying to ask him, and you decide to just do it, since he’s standing in front of you anyways.
“are you being this nice to me ‘cause you like me or just for the sake of your father’s marriage?”
he doesn’t reply right away, grabbing a bottle of juice from the fridge first. “my father’s been in serious relationships with other women before. i never cared much for them or their families. does that answer your question?”
“somewhat.”
“you don’t sound convinced.”
“that’s ‘cause you’re not convincing.”
jeonghan’s buttons are easily pushed, at times. you like pushing him.
he smiles to himself, averting his gaze for a moment, only looking back at you once he’s significantly closed the distance between your bodies. “i like you. a lot, actually, even though you’ve mostly just been cussing me out.”
“which you probably deserved.”
“i guess so.” he hums playfully, and you mimic his mannerisms, nearly skipping over the fact that this is the closest you’ve stood to him since meeting each other.
part of you wants him to be even closer.
then his gaze moves down, and you follow it.
even though the top you’re wearing isn’t see-through, its fabric is thin, and you didn’t put on a bra before leaving your room because you didn’t expect you’d be running into anyone, especially not him.
as soon as you realize he’s looking at your breasts, you cover your chest, immediately scolding him. “oh my god, you’re such a pervert.”
of course, he’s hardly impressed, not appearing to care in the slightest that you caught him staring. “cussing me out again? really?”
“i’m heading up to my room. don’t even think about following me.”
“well, shoot. there go my plans for the night.” he remarks, grinning at you. “sleep tight, sis.”
“yeah, whatever. night, hannie.”
hannie. that’s cute. he doesn’t think you’ve ever called him that before.
once you’re gone from his field of view, he bites his lower lip, unable to wipe that damn expression off his face as he thinks of you.
he can’t get enough.
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III. WHO IS NOT WITHOUT SIN?
despite being an adult, your mother’s authority still has a hold on you sometimes.
which is why instead of being in bed all morning like you’d planned, you’re currently in a grand church, seated on a bench in the back of the spacious hall with jeonghan next to you.
your parents were adamant on sitting near the front, but when you were walking into the hall just ten minutes ago, it was jeonghan who quickly grabbed you by your arm so that you and him could sit in the back together, and you’re honestly thankful for it.
it’s only been a few weeks since he told you he’d stop bothering you with questions about your past and start being nice to you, and so far, he’s kept his promise.
you wouldn’t say you fully trust him yet, but you definitely are growing fond of him. he’s been showing you around the city, taking you out to lunch, studying with you in the library at university, and it’d be a lie to say you haven’t enjoyed every second of it.
physical touch is clearly a habit of his with people he’s close to — joshua, his father on occasion, as well as some of his other friends he’s introduced you to.
for some reason, you’re always hyper-aware when someone touches you, and you have to admit, he does a great job at easing into the physical contact. it started with some simple touches on your shoulders and upper arms, slowly but smoothly continuing, allowing his hands to sit on your waist and lower back.
and he enjoys the dynamic he has going on with you. it’s mostly lots of sarcastic comments, teasing and joking around, but there’s moments where you just quietly appreciate the other’s presence.
with a sigh, you don’t know if you’re talking to yourself, or him. “i have no idea what i’m doing here. i’m not even catholic. pretty sure my mom isn’t, either.”
“no? not a fan of monotonous singing in a cold hall on sunday mornings?”
a scoff escapes you, followed by a sarcastic quip. “such a way with words, brother dearest.”
jeonghan shrugs, as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. “maybe you should pretend to be sick next time our parents want us to tag along. i’ll have no other option but to stay home and take care of you.”
is it so wrong of him to want you all to himself?
“creative.” you mutter with a grin, simultaneously hiding the effect his words have on your body.
he only gives you that mischievous smile, looking at you from the corner of his eye, and you can’t resist the soft chuckles escaping you.
not much later, he’s sitting closer to you, using it as an excuse to whisper in your ear. “me and my dad aren’t catholic either. i’m guessing it’s just about appearances.”
“of course,” you roll your eyes, “maybe they wanna get married here and this is their way of checking it out.”
jeonghan, very selfishly, doesn’t want to think about his father and your mother getting married. he just smiles at you as a way to conceal his true feelings, and all he can think about is that he should’ve met you first, that you should’ve been his.
so he averts his gaze, attempting to focus on whatever the pastor is saying, hoping it’ll take his mind off it.
the preaching is grim and anything but welcoming. words like hell and damnation are thrown around numerous times in a speech that feels almost like it’s spoken in a foreign language, and he hates it — he hates being here.
but perhaps not as much as you do.
“we must and will all pay for our sins, one way or another—” the pastor’s voice rings through your ears. his words keep replaying in your head, and it begins to make you feel dizzy, heavy existential suffering overtaking your chest, like a loud scream being pushed down but fighting to work its way up your throat.
you have to stop thinking about it.
you have to let it go.
jeonghan takes notice of your change in body language. where you were previously hardly moving a muscle, your breathing has become irregular, chest rising and falling more visibly, and you’re digging your nails into the skin of your thigh.
what he’d do to know what’s going on in that head of yours.
he puts his hand just above your knee to comfort you, and when you look up at him with almost disturbed eyes, all you find in his gaze is — understanding.
jeonghan doesn’t know what it is you’re hiding from him, but he figures you must’ve done something wrong in your past, if this is your reaction to the speech currently being given.
but he’s done wrong too.
his palm is still resting comfortably on your bare skin, and your shaky hand reaches out for his instinctively; it feels so right. instead of letting you put your hand on top of his, he raises it to hold yours, intertwining your fingers.
when you look at him with the corners of your mouth downturned and eyes glossy, your hand clenching his like you need it as much as you need to breathe, he chooses not to give a damn whether your parents choose to get married or not.
he’ll be there for you when you need it — he’ll make you his.
the mass is over before you know it, and as you’ve just walked out of the church, you spot your mother excitedly chatting away with her fiancé, not paying you any mind.
jeonghan catches up with you and gently puts his hand on your lower back. “are you okay?”
blinking a few times, you nod, trying to sound more cheerful than you are. “yeah. it was just… getting to me, is all. i don’t know why.”
but even you know the excuse is not gonna fly with him. he knows you’re hiding something — but he refuses to press you any more than he already has. “i want you to know that… you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. but i’m here for you, okay? i want you to be happy.”
god, you could actually cry.
the words affect you, and you move to hug him, which he embraces like his life depends on it. “thanks, hannie.”
“anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his heart racing when he realizes this is the first time you’ve hugged him like this, and that’s special to him.
the two of you hold one another for a little longer until you release him, and you loop your arm through his. “i’m drained after hearing that speech. wanna go get coffee?”
“you read my mind.”
leaving your parents behind, jeonghan takes you with him, hoping to spend the rest of his day with you.
the café you’ve just arrived at is relatively small, with a few people seated on the terrace outside and an older couple inside. jeonghan urges you to sit down at one of the tables and relax ― he figures you might like that after getting upset in the church.
with your go-to order already in mind, he goes up to the counter to order for both of you, and you’re staring at the people passing by on the sidewalk until a high-pitched shriek pulls you out of it.
“jeonghan? oh my god! it’s been so long, how are you?” the girl at the counter says cheerfully to him, and he’s pretty sure she would’ve pulled him in for a hug if it weren’t for the counter separating them. “i almost didn’t recognize you with the red hair! suits you, though.”
he gives her a polite smile in return. “i wanted the change, i guess.”
“what can i get you?”
“a regular cappuccino and a decaf, please.”
“oh, you got company?”
“girl by the window.”
her expression falters a bit. “is she your date?”
a question he’d prefer not to answer, really. she doesn’t need to know you’re the stepsister he has a massive crush on, so he just gives a vague answer like he always does. “something like that.”
she seems intrigued but refrains from asking any further questions. “alright. you got a stamp card?”
about three minutes later, he puts two cups of coffee on your table, sitting down across from you.
“thanks.” you mention, and jeonghan notices just a slight difference in your behavior. “the barista, is she a friend?”
jeonghan puts two and two together ― or so he thinks ― before taking a first tentative sip of his coffee. “her name’s bitna. we went to high school together.”
“oh, i know her name. she’s in my class, unfortunately.” you mumble mostly to yourself, but he hears it, gesturing for you to tell him more. “you remember when you saw me arguing with a girl before we went to the store a while back? it’s her i was arguing with.”
that raises questions in him. “what was she bothering you for?”
“fuck if i know. she was pressuring me about my reason for transferring, i just… i don’t know.”
“if she bothers you again, just come to me. i’ll deal with her.”
“well, contrary to how she spoke to me, she seemed pretty excited to see you.”
“well, this was our first time seeing each other in two or three years. but she’s always been… expressive.”
“ah.” you hum, averting your gaze when you take your cup, secretly cheering that she’s not some girl he’s seeing. when he taps his fingers on the surface, you watch him leaning forward over the small, wooden table.
“not jealous, are you, sis?” he asks you with a brief quirk of his brow, and you shrug.
“what should i be jealous of?”
“you? nothing. ‘cause you already have me,” he drawls, “from what a friend told me, bitna liked me when we were still in school together, but i highly doubt she still does. i mean, it’s been years.”
“you didn’t like her back?”
“nope. not my type.”
“so what is your type?”
a few strands of his dark red hair dangle before his eyelids when he looks up at you from under his brows. “i don’t know. i don’t think i’ve ever been in love.” but maybe he is now.
even though he doesn’t say the last part out loud, it’s like you can still hear it, and the way he looks at you ― god, has anyone ever looked at you like that?
the silent eye contact speaks volumes, and he moves to stick out his index finger, pointing at your cup. “i think your coffee might be getting a bit cold.”
rolling your eyes at his attempt of taking your attention off him, he just chuckles, and while you and him enjoy each other’s company, you fail to notice how the barista has barely taken her eyes off the two of you since jeonghan sat down.
two weeks pass by, and as your mother’s wedding approaches, you try to ignore the growing feelings for your stepbrother.
you thought it’d go away if you repressed it as much as you could.
which was a big mistake to think. huge.
the relationship you have with jeonghan becomes more complicated by the day. people around you, especially your parents, encourage you and him to bond like a brother and sister would, they even seem to act like you are related in that way — even though you most certainly aren’t — but whenever you’re alone with him, it’s completely different.
every touch you give each other feels more intimate, every kiss he presses to your cheek gets closer to your lips. with every passing day, the boundaries of what should be a familial connection get pushed further, the lines blurring.
and it, frankly, drives you insane.
jeonghan hasn’t directly expressed how he feels about you ― not that you have either, for that matter ― but the way he acts around you and talks to you feels like he’s definitely insinuating it, and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep it up.
but you have to, because he can’t be anything but a brother to you.
is it really that selfish of you to just want to have him kiss you? just once?
“honey, it’d be great if you could focus on standing still and upright.” your mother’s stern voice suddenly rings through your ears, shaking you awake from your thoughts.
“right. sorry.” you mutter, glancing at the dressing mirror in front of you. on your bare feet, you’re standing on a small, round display platform so the two assistants of the designer can perfectly see whether the dress you’re gonna be wearing to the wedding fits well and if it needs any adjustments.
the dark navy satin dress just about reaches your knees, and you have to admit ― you feel very pretty in it.
“the waist just needs to be stitched a bit tighter; it’ll enhance her features more.”
“i agree. we could also adjust the straps a bit.”
the assistants converse with your mother about their thoughts, and they follow her out of the living room not much later, leaving you in the same spot, admiring how the dress hugs your curves in the mirror since you’re by yourself anyways ― though not for long.
jeonghan, who’s just arrived home, peeks around the corner, and he leans against the doorframe to gaze at you, even if you’ve already spotted him.
“that dress is gorgeous on you.”
turning around to look at him, you smile at the compliment. “you think?”
he nods, taking a few steps over to you. “i do. looks like the bottom is a bit twisted, though.”
then you face forward again, to the mirror in front of you, and you watch as he’s standing behind you, feeling him tug at the fabric a little as he fixes the back of your dress.
goosebumps erupt on your arms when he suddenly touches your skin. the way his fingers slide from above the knee to your upper thigh is slow, and his voice is a lot closer to you than before.
“how does that feel?” he whispers, lips brushing past your ear, and you make eye contact with him in the mirror, your back pressed against his front.
you have to force yourself not to squeeze your legs together to give yourself some friction. the way he teases you has you aching to be touched. “feels… good.”
ironically, he needs to force himself to have self-restraint more than you do right now. he wants nothing more than to just rip that fabric off your body and get on his knees to taste you, but he can’t. he shouldn’t.
you’re the forbidden fruit, after all.
“i’ve thought about doing this since the day i met you. wrong of me, right?” he rasps, the cold metal of the silver ring sitting around his index finger causing you to shiver.
“yeah—you shouldn’t.” you tell him, yet you grab his arm and lean into his touch, allowing him to roam your body.
if anything, the way you give in to him like this only gets him hotter. “where do you want me to touch you?”
“hannie…”
the nickname has him inhaling sharply, “answer me.”
swallowing, you give him what he wants. “higher.”
your wish is his command — so he moves his fingers up higher, towards your underwear, and you let out a soft gasp, which nearly has him moaning in your ear.
then he rubs over your clothed pussy, and when you lean your head back, on his shoulder, he presses kisses all over your neck and cheek.
with a low voice, he whispers, “you’d let me have you right here, right now? when anyone could walk in?”
when you hum in response, he wonders how the hell he managed to come across a girl this perfect.
he pushes your underwear to the side and watches your lips part as he slides two of his fingers into you.
feeling you squeeze around his fingers makes him ridiculously hard in his jeans. “that’s it, pretty girl. relax for me.”
the gasps leaving your mouth are hot and erotic. hearing his breathing get louder and uneven turns you on even more, and you can only imagine the idea of having his cock inside you instead of his fingers — god, what you’d do to have him in your bed.
his eyes remain on your face. he thinks you just look so fucking pretty when your eyes roll back in pleasure, and it makes him want to drop everyone and everything just to be able to keep watching you like this.
right when he’s about to add another finger, you hear your mother’s voice approaching again, and jeonghan steps away from you, hiding his hands behind his back.
your mother looks surprised at the sight of her stepson standing near you but forgets about it once she notices your red cheeks.
“everything okay, honey? you look like you’re burning up.”
all you can do is stumble out an excuse. “yeah, i’m fine. just, uh… is it warm in here? it’s warm in here.”
she only raises a brow but continues talking to the assistants about the changes to your dress, and jeonghan subtly backs away from you, shooting you a satisfied grin.
it’s hard not to catch the smirk on his face when he leaves the room, sucking the taste of you from his wet fingers once no one but you is looking at him.
when he’s actually gone, you realize what just happened — he didn’t just make a move, he actually went as far as to touch you.
fuck.
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IV. SUCCUMB TO YOUR GREED
much to your frustration, you’ve hardly seen jeonghan since he stuck his fingers in you.
he went on a trip to the other side of the country for one of his courses, which took four days, and he only got back from said trip last week. while you’ve seen him around at certain moments since his return, it’s only been briefly or when your parents were in the room.
so, to put it shortly, you pretty much haven’t talked about it.
if anything, nothing has changed in his behavior towards you. he’s still as smug and sarcastic as ever — you’d think nothing happened.
reality begins to kick in when your parents announce they’ll be getting married in a mere two weeks, and the smile you have on your face is so utterly fake that it almost hurts.
all you can think of is how much you want him to yourself.
later that night, when your parents have gone to bed, you head into the kitchen for a snack, and jeonghan stands there, downing a glass of alcohol, it seems.
he lazily eyes you as you come up to him, and you turn the bottle to read the label. “whiskey? pretty sure you shouldn’t be drinking that like you’re doing a shot of vodka.”
“i know. if i’m drinking like this, it’s to get drunk. or at least tipsy.”
“by yourself? at home? you’re not secretly an alcoholic, are you?”
he rolls his eyes with a huff, pinching at your skin, at which you laugh and push him away. “no, i’m not. just wanna stop my mind from racing.”
“is something bothering you?”
he can’t stand how pretty you look, even in the darkness of the kitchen.
“yes.”
“wanna talk about it?”
“no.” he responds, and he swears he finds something of disappointment in your features.
his sweet girl ― how could he not give in?
the glass hits the countertop with a clink when he puts it away. jeonghan moves in to kiss you with full force, his hand behind your head to make sure it doesn’t hurt when your back hits the fridge.
what kills him is that you immediately kiss him back, because this is all he wants. you.
when he pulls away, his lips are swollen and tainted with your lip balm. your hands are on the back of his neck, and he has his one hand on the side of yours, thumb sitting underneath your jaw.
your heavy breathing matches his, and you lean in to kiss him again, but he hesitantly stops you — as if he needs to restrain both of you from letting this get out of hand.
“i’m sorry.” he has to push the words out, letting go of you, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and its matching glass before disappearing from the kitchen.
in disbelief of what just happened, you can only blink, dumbfounded.
the kiss is all you can think about whenever you see him the following days. despite everything that’s happened between you when you were alone, neither of you has brought it up, nor has your behavior towards each other changed in any way.
perhaps it’s the lavish wedding your mother’s so busy with that you can barely even think about it properly. the two weeks pass by so fast that you begin to process it on the day of the event itself, and just like that, you’re standing beside jeonghan by the church’s altar, watching with a blank stare as his father says the vows you couldn’t care less about.
what you do care about, though, is how criminally dashing your stepbrother looks in his suit, which matches with your dress. you can’t help yourself, glancing at him from the corner of your eye every now and then, and when he momentarily shifts his weight from one leg to the other, he purposefully brushes past your leg.
as your parents walk down the aisle together after being pronounced husband and wife, everyone’s attention being on them, jeonghan leans down to whisper in your ear, “we’re officially brother and sister now.”
“lucky me.”
he plays with your earring for a moment until you swat his hand away. “oh, don’t act as if you don’t like me.”
“i find you highly annoying, actually.”
“whatever makes you sleep at night, pretty girl.”
he’s given you so many compliments at this point that you’re able to hide the redness of your cheeks, but it still makes you feel like a schoolgirl getting praised by her crush on the inside.
all you can do is ache for him. have you ever pined for someone like this? you doubt it.
the wedding and everything that comes with it goes by smoothly, just as planned — except for your own agenda.
maybe it was selfish of you to hope that jeonghan would touch you again during the night of the wedding.
but he still hasn’t. and it’s starting to piss you off. first he nearly has sex with you, then radio silence, then he kisses you, followed by radio silence again — and you’re planning to find out just how far you need to go to make him cave.
it’s only a week later when the perfect opportunity arises, all courtesy of joshua.
would you consider yourself a party girl? once a month, maybe. you overall like to stay in more, but you welcome the occasional night of letting loose.
you very subtly mention the event to jeonghan on purpose. “are you also going to the party one of joshua’s friends is hosting tomorrow night? i forgot the guy’s name—”
“you’re going to mingyu’s party? with who?”
oh, you definitely detect that surprise in his tone. “just a few friends from class. they asked me if i wanted to come with, and joshua asked if i came as well, so… will i see you there?”
“maybe.” he answers with a furrowed brow, leaving the room, immediately texting mingyu about the details of the party, despite having declined the invitation two days prior because he wasn’t really feeling it.
and just like that, around eleven o’clock, he finds himself getting ready for the party, cursing himself for the way you make him act.
he hasn’t seen you since this afternoon, since you told him you’d go with one of your friends after class and get ready with her.
with his hair slicked back — save for a few strands hanging in front of his forehead — and a leather jacket thrown on, he heads out to mingyu’s place.
it’s the host of the party who comes up to greet him. “jeonghan! good to see you, i almost thought you weren’t coming.”
“i’m not planning on staying long. just wanted to say hi since life’s been busy recently.”
“i met your sister. she’s nice.” mingyu says, and it feels as if a switch flips in his head.
“yeah. where is she, by the way? i actually gotta talk to her about something.”
the taller of the two points to the kitchen. “i think she was getting herself a drink.”
“alright, thanks. i’ll talk to you later, yeah?” jeonghan says, giving mingyu a squeeze in his arm, which he reciprocates.
the party started about an hour and a half ago, the room already warm and reeking of alcohol and sweat.
when he enters the kitchen, he doesn’t see you anywhere at first — that is, until you turn around.
you look like a dream. perhaps even that’s an understatement.
a tight, black satin mini-dress with a sweet-heart neckline and a gold necklace sitting on top of your exposed collarbones. your makeup suits you perfectly — you look gorgeous.
what tops it all off is that sweet smile that rises to your face as soon as you recognize him.
“when did you get here, hannie?”
“i, um…” he looks you up and down once more, almost forgetting to answer you, “just now.”
you move in to give him a quick hug, and he has to hold back from letting his hands roam too low, sucking in a breath when you press your body against his even more than usual.
“wanna do a shot with me?”
“depends on how many you’ve had already.”
“only two. i’m a big girl, jeonghan. i don’t need my brother to take care of me.”
a funny statement, considering you’d actually like him to take care of you.
“it’s not you i’m worried about, baby.” he responds, mimicking your tone and attitude, which makes you grin.
you’ve shoved the tiny glass filled with vodka into his hand in the blink of an eye, and he clinks his glass with yours before downing the bitter liquid, feeling it burning in his throat.
“that was my only alcohol for the night. i drove here,” he informs you as he’s putting the glass on the counter, “you’re coming with me after this, right?”
you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you think of the best way to answer him. “well, it depends.”
the tension between you grows when he looks you in the eye. “depends on what?”
“don’t play dumb.”
he’s about to say something when he catches you briefly glancing at joshua, who’s absentmindedly checking his phone at the other side of the room.
oh, hell no.
“you’re kidding, right?” jeonghan scoffs, appalled at the idea of you landing in his best friend’s bed. “him, of all people?”
you’ve come to be so comfortable with him that you don’t mind being a little spiteful. “what? he’s cute.”
“i don’t care if he is,” he gets closer to you, his tone lower and sterner than before, “he’s my closest friend.”
“so? he doesn’t seem to mind that i’m your sister. besides, plenty of girls have a thing for being with their brother’s best friend, and vice versa. what’re you gonna do about it?”
jeonghan’s frustration suddenly dies down like a fire being put out, because he’s finally realizing what you’re doing, and his cockiness comes right back to his features. “you don’t even like him like that. you’re just trying to provoke me.”
well, shit. there goes plan a.
“no i’m not.”
“you definitely are.” he smirks gleefully, knowing damn well he’s right.
“i like joshua enough to let him give me a fun night.”
he has to dig his nails into the palm of his hand to stop himself from saying he’d give you a better one, but a part of him doesn’t think you’ll go as far as to go home with joshua.
“if you say so. have fun, sweetheart.”
“i will.” you tell him, leaving him by himself in the kitchen, and he rolls his eyes.
being at this party is slowly but steadily pissing him off. he can’t have fun or focus on anyone or anything else as long as you’re in this room, knowing you’re preparing to make use of joshua’s little crush on you. and to what end? to make him jealous?
he figures this, in a way, is the result of his own actions. he’s been sending mixed signals towards you about his feelings. the stunt he pulled at your dress fitting was uncharacteristically impulsive of him, as was that late-night kiss in the kitchen, and it’s not that he doesn’t want you like that ― it’s that he can’t.
or shouldn’t.
after two hours of unbearable small talk and several glasses of non-alcoholic beer, jeonghan decides he’s had enough. he will be taking you home tonight, one way or another.
from the other side of the room, he watches joshua lean closer to your face just to say something in your ear over the loud music — and he’s touchy. shua only gets touchy with those who are either friends, family, or people he wants to pursue.
a raw sense of possessiveness begins to swirl in his gut, the feeling of it reaching the tips of his fingers.
envy is a rare thing for jeonghan. usually, he’s the one people are envious of, as arrogant as that may sound. it’s not something he brags about, really.
but when he’s envious, he gets selfish. a little manipulative, even, if necessary to get what he wants.
so his legs move to get to you before joshua can do anything he doesn’t approve of, but then someone calls out his name.
“jeonghan? hey!”
he turns his head to find the last person he cares about right now. matter of fact, he really doesn’t want to talk to her, since she’s bothered you a while ago, yet out of good manners, he doesn’t show it, remaining somewhat friendly. “bitna. nice to see you again.”
the girl smiles a little too brightly at him for his liking. “are you in a hurry? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“no, i just… it’s nothing.”
while his head is spinning from sheer jealousy, he’s about to walk away from bitna when she speaks up again.
“i actually wanted to ask you something.” just the mere sound of her voice makes him press his lips together out of annoyance ― is it not obvious to her he has other matters to attend to?
“you do?”
“look, i, um… i’ve liked you for a while now, and i was just wondering if you wanted to… go out with me sometime?”
the confession falls on deaf ears, since jeonghan can only focus on the fact that his best friend is making a move on you across the room. “i’m—i’m sorry. i can’t really talk right now. see you later?”
bitna lets out a baffled scoff when he pushes past her to walk to the other side of the room, and she begins to get a faint idea of the reason behind his hasty behavior when she notices him approaching you and joshua, and she watches the interaction from afar like a hawk.
jeonghan runs a hand through his half-long hair and walks over to you, one hand on joshua’s shoulder and the other on your upper arm, as if greeting two friends.
“there you guys are. been looking all over for you.” he puts up a smile relatively naturally to appear convincing.
joshua, with a drink still in hand, looks a little bummed that his best friend had to come over to interrupt the conversation, but his fondness for him quickly returns.
“ready to go?” jeonghan turns his attention to you, and you have a hard time keeping your balance.
“already? i just got here, hannie!” you exclaim, your usual calm and quiet demeanor replaced by an outgoing and giggly one. he thinks it’s cute to see the effect alcohol has on you, though he doesn’t think you’re drunk, just very tipsy.
“i know, i’d prefer to stay too, but i promised your mom i’d get you home at a… somewhat reasonable hour. got the family gathering in the morning, remember?”
honestly, you can hardly even call it a gathering. you simply made the deal you’d be home to see your parents off before they go on their honeymoon, and it’s a perfect excuse to take you home now ― though you certainly could refuse him. if you wanted to.
but jeonghan knows better. you want only one person here, and it’s not joshua.
you let out an exaggerated huff. “fuck, i forgot.” but even in your less-than-sober state of mind, your infatuation for your stepbrother floods your senses, and you desperately want to be around him, ready to leave everyone and everything behind.
so you take a step towards him, nearly losing your balance, yet he catches you with ease. for someone appearing on the frail side, he’s actually a lot stronger than you’d think.
he puts his arm around your waist to ensure you don’t fall, and you happily wave at his best friend, who’s still standing beside you. “bye, shua.”
his friendly smile briefly returns to his face at your sweetness. “bye. drink some water when you get home, okay?”
you nod, walking out of the place with jeonghan’s arm still around you.
the road back home is quiet, and a bit of a blur to you, if you’re honest. he helped put your seatbelt on when you were struggling with the buckle and proceeded to force you to down an entire bottle of water, which you did with a pout.
with barely suppressed laughter, you and jeonghan walk up to the front door of the manor, and he has to constantly shush you to keep it down so your parents don’t wake up.
the house is completely quiet, save for the creaking of the chandelier above the stairs in the main hall. he guides you up until you finally make it to your room, where you let yourself fall onto the bed with a loud thud, eliciting a snort from him. “nope. to the bathroom you go.”
“ugh, to do what?”
“to drink some water, brush your teeth, et cetera. c’mon.”
“but ‘m so tired, hannie.”
“i know, baby. i’ll help you.” he coos, and your heart beats just a bit faster at the nickname.
so he helps you up and gets you to the bathroom, holding your jaw to brush your teeth. he’s awfully focused on the task, and you’re just staring at him the entire time, causing him to laugh.
“staring is rude.”
“maybe i am rude.”
he laughs again. “sure.”
you spit the toothpaste out in the sink and finally get some water in your system, and it feels like the sobering up of your senses is already happening.
it doesn’t make you act any less bold, though.
when he wants to say goodnight, you grab his arm. “wait—can you just—help me with one last thing?”
“what?”
“my dress. it’s so fucking tight that i barely got it on myself, my friend helped put it on. please?”
he looks down at the dress and back up at your face, and either you’re playing him to get him to undress you or you’re genuinely clueless.
but jeonghan tells himself he can do this. “turn around.” his voice is a bit lower than before, and you shiver at his tone before doing as he says.
the faint sound of the laces slowly being undone brings goosebumps to your skin, and you know it means he’s looking at the now visible clasp of the lacy black bra you’re wearing underneath the dress.
“were you hoping to impress someone with this tonight?” he somehow still manages to sound sweet despite the snark in his attitude. “joshua?”
it makes you look at him over your shoulder. “he’s cute. just… not really my type.”
he chuckles to himself, your back still facing him. “yeah, i could’ve told you that.”
you beat around the bush just for the sake of doing so. “why? how would you know what my type is?”
as he moves on to the laces covering your lower back, he pulls on them a little harder than before. “it’s unlike you to play the fool. especially with me.”
all you can do is scoff.
once he’s reached the last lace, he glances at your body for a moment before backing away from you. “change into some comfortable clothes and get some sleep, alright?”
with the dress still on, you turn around to face him again. “are you serious?”
“what?”
“you bring me home early as soon as your best friend is about to kiss me, and now you’re just not gonna act on your feelings? all of that for nothing?”
“not for nothing,” he says coolly, tilting his head, “i made sure joshua didn’t get to make his move on you.”
honestly, you’d be pissed off at him if you actually liked shua in that way. what does piss you off, though, is that he won’t make a move on you.
“i could always call him,” you suggest, though you wouldn’t act on it, but he doesn’t need to know that, “maybe he’ll give me what you won’t.”
but as always, jeonghan sounds unfazed. always the smartest guy in the room. “he’s too sweet for you. a good catholic kid. he probably wouldn’t even know what to do with you.”
“like you would.”
“i think we both know the answer to that question.”
“oh, please. you barely even touched me.”
“true. but you must’ve enjoyed it, since you’re here, asking for more.”
“and what’s stopping you from giving me that?”
“we’re family now.”
“says the guy who calls me baby and kisses me on the lips,” you scoff, making it your mission to get him to give in.
so you shrug off the dress that was loosely clinging onto your body to drop it to the floor, and the second he lays eyes on the lacy lingerie, you know he’s practically done for.
“it’s simple. say you don’t want me, and i’ll let it go.”
there’s something charming about his brain short-cutting now that you’re standing in front of him like this, and you’re backing him into the corner so easily. “sweetheart―”
“have you thought about it, since you touched me? having me like this?” you interrupt teasingly, and when he doesn’t say anything, you can’t help but smile in realization. “oh my god, you have.”
he’s clearly doing his best to maintain the untouchable persona, but even you see the truth. “it doesn’t change anything.”
you want him to act out for once, see what’s underneath that exterior. something about him makes you want to be bold — yet completely you.
so you reach behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra, and he has to swallow to keep it together.
if anything, he’s a bit baffled. he didn’t expect you to undress right here, right now, in front of him. but you just do it, looking as confident as ever.
with two small steps forward, you put your hands on his chest to push him back on the chair behind him. his breath hitches, and he tries to hold you back, failing to sound convincing in the slightest. “we shouldn’t.”
“you touched me first. you started it.” you shrug, moving to sit in his lap, and he does his best to focus on anything but your bare chest.
“i know that, but… i can’t. regardless of how much i want to.” he breathes out while your hands move from his cheeks to the back of his neck.
“i wore this set for you, y’know. just like that dress. hell, why do you think i even went to that party?”
oh.
oh.
sure, he figured you messed with joshua on purpose to rile him up — but he didn’t think you’d planned the whole night like this.
it’s something he would do, and a certain sense of pride rushes through him.
he makes the mistake of looking down where your nearly naked body grinds against his clothed crotch, and it makes him sick.
because the feeling of it is so much better than it already was in his wet dream.
“if i fuck you now—” he inhales sharply with his hand trembling on your lower back, “it won’t end there. i’ll want you again, and again, and again.”
it’s the only reason he hasn’t given in fully yet, something he realized after touching you the way he did and nearly getting caught.
he likes you more than he’s ever liked anyone, you’re addictive to him, and he knows that once he crosses this line with you, it’s over for him. he’ll want nothing more than to be with you, to fuck you and love you and have you be his.
even more than he already does.
“did you think i wanted this to be a one-time thing?” you ask, putting your hands on his jaw. “fuck me, hannie. please.”
jeonghan takes one look at your eyes and decides to say goodbye to that last thread his honor was hanging onto.
your kiss is gentler than anticipated. perhaps it’s because this is the first time you both fully get to savor it, taste it ― it’s so sickeningly sweet that he almost forgets you’re practically naked on top of him, while he’s still fully clothed.
he shrugs his jacket off with ease, throwing it onto the floor, your lips on his again before he can comprehend it. his hands roam all over your body, his breathing speeding up as his kisses trail down your jaw, to your neck, the sensation of his tongue on the skin by your collarbone making you feel weak.
with your legs around him, he gets up from the chair and puts you down on your bed. “i didn’t get to make you cum last time, so i should probably finish that, right?”
“but i want―”
“i know what you want.” he cuts you off, removing his shirt, smirking to himself when you shamelessly stare at his abs. “i’ll give it to you, but i wanna taste you first.”
he gets on the mattress in just his jeans, the waistband of his underwear peeking out from the top of his pants, and you like the sight of his bare chest.
unlike his usual patient self, jeonghan refuses to waste any more time. the way he acts isn’t rushed, but he’s got a certain hunger clawing at his chest that’s fighting to get out ― and it only really wants one thing.
your hands quickly reach out to grab his dark red hair once he’s got his head between your legs, his fingers firmly clasped on your thighs. he’s greedy, mouth and nose buried in your wetness.
“fuck—jeonghan—”
it’s when he hums in satisfaction that your eyes roll back. you prop yourself onto your elbows to watch him run his tongue over your pussy, savoring the taste of you.
the sheer emptiness in your gut while you’re getting wetter by the second is driving you insane. you’re clenching around nothing, aching to be filled up, and he’s so mean for not doing so already.
his lips latch onto your clit, and you inhale sharply, your hold on his hair even harder than before, making him moan. he’s rubbing his clothed cock against the mattress while his hands and mouth are on your body, and he’s close to feeling fucking ecstasy.
when he comes back up for air, he’s breathing heavily, moving upwards to kiss your stomach. you take his wrists to bring his hands up to your breasts, and he’s almost hypnotized by your greed.
“fuck, hannie, ‘m so wet—just take me. please?” you beg, and he just can’t help it; he can’t refuse you.
he sits up on his knees to unbutton his jeans, fingers trembling in anticipation as he watches you glance at him.
shrugging off the last of his clothes, he reaches for the condom he’s got sitting in his wallet, rolling it on swiftly. he almost laughs at the way your eyes follow his every move.
“put your legs up.” he mutters, and you mindlessly follow his command, feeling the warm buds of his fingertips on your calves as he puts your legs over his shoulders.
jeonghan pushes into you slowly and gently, allowing you to adjust. you bite your lower lip with a soft grunt while your heat wraps around him.
your hands immediately reach for him, and he enjoys the feeling of your hands on his skin.
“i can’t believe you orchestrated this whole night. were you thinking about this when you nearly kissed my best friend?”
all you can do is let out a playful laugh. “would it be so terrible if i said i was?”
“a little. but i like terrible,” he shrugs casually, and you force yourself not to get caught up in the silver chain dangling above your face.
it’s then that you realize it’s a cross necklace.
the irony of it makes you chuckle, and jeonghan catches you staring at it, his eyes lighting up dauntingly.
“to think our parents got such a wonderful wedding in that church, and all i wanted was to fuck you right then and there,” his fingers dig into your thighs as he keeps his pace slow but deep, teasing you to no end, “i fucking knew you wanted me too. decided to make me jealous just to get me to fuck you — so dirty.”
“you’re the one fucking your sister—”
“says the girl who begged to be fucked by her brother,” he moves his hips harder, making you moan, “but don’t worry, baby. i don’t judge.”
he’s awfully cocky about the situation, which you do think is hot, but it also riles you up.
completely taken aback when you flip the two of you over, he’s suddenly got you sitting on top of him, and you’re shaking your head. “don’t start things you can’t finish, hannie.”
the lazy smirk he always sports falters when you slowly rock back and forth, his cock twitching inside you.
“fine. then you should finish it,” he mutters breathily, failing to come across as smug as usual, giving you full control to do whatever you want with him.
he hisses through gritted teeth when you clench around him, his hands finding their way to your hips.
“oh, fuck.” he grunts, briefly closing his eyes in pleasure, and you think it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. “you feel so fucking good, baby.”
as his breathing begins to quicken, he circles your clit with his thumb, causing you to shudder on top of him.
“shit! don’t—don’t do that, not yet—”
“i want you to cum around me. you can do that, right?” he urges you, feeling close to begging you simply because he wants to see your face and feel your body shake on him.
humming a response, you move your hips faster, trying to give him what he wants while simultaneously chasing your own high.
“oh my god, jeonghan—”
“that’s it, baby. doing so well for me.”
his praise is enough for you to hit your climax, your thighs trembling beside him, and the tightening of your muscles hits him to the point it makes him hit his peak as well.
once you’ve come down from it, he flips you over, going right at it again and again, until it’s deep into the night and you’re both spent.
your head lies comfortably on his chest, trailing his warm skin with your finger.
he’s softly stroking through your hair. “i can’t believe you did all of that. poor joshua became collateral damage.”
“you don’t sound like you care that much.”
“he’ll get over it.”
“you’re so mean.”
“hey, you took part in it too, sweetheart.”
“ugh, you’re right. you know, maybe i should go to the church. commit to the catholic confessions and all that.”
jeonghan scoffs. “what would you even say?”
you shrug, the sarcasm dripping from your words. “forgive me father, for i have sinned. i was at this party, and this guy who likes me was about to make a move on me, but i pretty much just left him by himself to go home with my evil stepbrother, who then proceeded to rail me into another dimension—”
“since when am i evil?”
“since the day i met you, if not long before.”
he laughs at the irony of it. “perhaps.”
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V. FAMILY TREE
life is surprisingly good when you’re in a secret relationship, jeonghan finds.
whenever your parents are asleep, he quietly moves to your room, slipping under the covers to find you naked and wet and aching for him. he’ll have his hand under your jaw as he buries himself inside you to the hilt with slow, deep strokes.
at breakfast, while your parents are completely oblivious, jeonghan has to fight the urge to smirk, knowing he was inside you a mere hour before.
the sex is ridiculously good ― but he feels as if you’re still closed-off to him. that distance that he felt in those first weeks of being around you has decreased, but it’s still there. he wants nothing more than to be trusted with whatever’s clearly on your mind, but he figures you don’t. not completely.
as jeonghan repeatedly knocks on your door to get you to hurry up for your trip to the cinema, he’s suddenly greeted by your mother walking down the hall, motioning for him to come over to her, away from your door.
“jeonghan,” your mother says softly, “i wanted to thank you for taking such good care of my daughter. she seems… happier, these days. she’s fond of you.”
the heartfelt words make him smile genuinely. “i’m fond of her, too. she’s good company, and i… well, i’ve never had a sister, so…”
“it’s wonderful to see you two get along so well, especially after last year. she was so torn up about it.”
“last year?” he asks, confused.
your mother in turn looks confused as well. “she hasn’t told you?”
“no, i don’t think so.”
she looks behind her for a second to check if the hallway is still empty, proceeding to speak in a more hushed tone. “oh, it was terrible. one of the girls who was a member of her sports team fell to her death while they were all gathered at a party together. the police officers weren’t on the scene quick enough, so all the girls saw the body, and the blood... it took a toll on her, she cuts me off whenever i try to talk to her about it. but since moving here, i suppose she’s gotten the fresh start she needed.”
well, that’s an interesting twist, to say the least.
how traumatic that experience must’ve been for you ― he doesn’t know why you wouldn’t tell him something like that. do you really not trust him at all?
when he takes you out to the city just five minutes later, he pretends not to know a thing about your mother’s words to him. he’s eager to wait and see when you’ll open up.
it takes you several weeks more to do so. you’re in his room, and he’s laying down on his back while you’re on your stomach next to him, pushing yourself up on your elbows, fiddling with your fingers. “do you think what we’re doing is wrong?”
“million-dollar question, isn’t it?” he shrugs while looking up at the ceiling. “it feels good to us. why would it be wrong?”
“everyone would disapprove. our parents would probably disown us, one might argue it’s even, you know… morally wrong.”
he blinks at your words slowly, voice slightly gentler than before.
“perhaps you should start looking at things differently. y’know, i ask myself a certain question sometimes.” jeonghan finally meets your gaze, and it’s almost hypnotic. “who will you be when no one can stop you?”
“and what’s your answer?”
“as for me — someone who doesn’t live by the rules. i live my life however i want. if that means doing something other people consider to be ‘wrong’… so be it.”
“how far would you take that? how wrong?”
“as wrong as you want it.”
he notices your breathing quicken. his eyes flick down to your collarbone before moving back up again. your hand faintly brushes past his, and he goes out of his way to put your hand on his chest, so utterly desperate to have that intimacy with you at every possible opportunity.
“can i ask you something, hannie?”
“always.”
“would you still like me if i said i was guilty of something?”
jeonghan refrains from making a playful comment when he takes notice of the seriousness in your tone, like you’re about to confess something. “what’re you guilty of?”
“i…” your breath hitches in your throat, and your impulsivity fails you, “no, forget i said anything.”
that’s when he turns his head to look at you. “hey, don’t do that. you can tell me anything.”
“i want you to still like me, jeonghan.”
he feels genuinely touched that you value the bond you two have as much as he does. “sweetheart, you could tell me you’re secretly the head of a drug cartel and i’d still like you. c’mon, tell me.”
you fiddle with his fingers to avoid looking at him, but you do begin to open up. “last year, i was a member of the university hockey club. i was close with a couple of my teammates, but not all of them. in february, there was a party on campus to celebrate the nearing end of the sports season, just like every year.”
jeonghan can almost see your throat tightening up. your struggle is so utterly visible that it makes him grow worried.
but he stays quiet.
“at a certain point that night, it was so hot inside that i went up to the rooftop to get some fresh air, since we were high up in the building with the party. about ten minutes later, one of my teammates also came up to the roof. we hated each other’s guts since the start. it was pretty obvious that she had too much to drink, but she began to just… talk shit to me, saying the team was better off without me and other teammates i was close with, and i got riled up, ‘cause i knew she didn’t like me at all. so our fight eventually became physical ― she tried to claw at my hair and face, and i pushed her away from me in the heat of the moment, i didn’t see that she was standing at the edge until she…”
he finishes the sentence as you refuse to do so yourself.
“until she’d already fallen to her death.”
you nod as a confirmation, and he finally manages to catch your gaze, a pair of glossy eyes staring back at him.
all kinds of questions run through his head. “what happened afterwards?”
“hannie…” you softly protest, heart crumbling with every word that comes out of your mouth, because it makes you feel so fucking vulnerable ― you can’t bear the thought of him leaving you or judging you.
he hums, tilting your chin upwards so you keep facing him. “no, baby. tell me.”
the nickname rolls off his tongue so naturally that you nearly miss it. “everyone who was there that night was questioned. there were no cameras, no witnesses, everyone knew she had a problem with alcohol… so i… i just said the same as everyone else. i lied. when the police ruled it an accident, everyone believed it.”
“it was.”
“except it wasn’t, because i pushed her.” you bury your face in your hands for a moment. “the shock hit me so hard that i went to the bathroom and threw up everything i ate that night. but once it wore off, i just… i didn’t feel guilty. i don’t care that she fell to her death ― it was unfortunate but bound to happen. and that’s what scares me, ‘cause i’m―i’m supposed to feel guilty about this, right? what kind of shitty person am i that i just don’t feel that? what the fuck is wrong with me?”
everything suddenly falls into place. the threatening arguments you had with bitna, the way you nearly had a breakdown at the church, the distance you’ve been so eager to keep since the day you stepped foot in this place.
this is what you were trying to run away from by coming here.
you don’t feel guilty because you pushed a girl plummeting to her death ― you feel guilt because you simply can’t bring yourself to care.
“did you want to push her?”
“jeonghan.” your tone is close to hostile, but his calm demeanor somehow pushes through.
“answer the question.”
“i—”
the stumble of an answer makes him smirk, and his face inches closer to yours, not allowing you to try and give the answer that’s clearly not the truth. “you did. you’re glad she’s dead.”
“stop. just stop.”
“you’re just saying this because you feel obligated to, not because you mean it. tell me how you really feel. i won’t judge you.”
every word coming out of his mouth tears you open little by little, exposing your biggest secret and darkest thoughts. but if he’s already deducted it — why not tell him?
it’s like you hit an internal switch. the stress begins to leave your features like he’s never seen before.
he finds it intriguing.
you finally give in and tell him the truth. “okay, fine. i hated that bitch to the bone, and i’m glad she’s dead. but i guess i still have some level of guilt, because now that i’ve done what i did… what kind of person does that make me?”
jeonghan flinches. he’s heard those words before — in his own head.
he wants to tell you that it makes you a lot more like him than he thought, to the point that it almost scares him. you’ve just trusted him with your darkest secret, yet he’s afraid to trust you with his.
what would you think of him? would you still want him the way he wants you?
“it makes you someone who had no choice. she was drunk, looking to start a fight, and you defended yourself.”
“do you really believe that?”
“i do. good and bad are a matter of perspective, and i believe you did the right thing. you’ll let go of that guilt with time. trust me.”
finally telling someone what you’ve had on your chest for so long is freeing, and he hardly appears as repulsed as you’d imagined him to be.
your voice becomes smaller. “but what if i don’t?”
“then i’ll help you. you’re my sister; i’ll take care of you, always.” he promises you, intertwining his fingers with yours, and you don’t know how to respond at first, solely because you don’t think you’ve ever been loved like this ― unconditionally.
with his free hand, he gently runs his hand through your hair, and it’s like you can finally relax now that you know jeonghan sees you as you are and cares for you just as much as before.
“thank you, hannie.” you mutter, laying your head down on his chest, and he presses a kiss on top of your head.
“anytime, sweetheart.”
his shoulders sink in relief under you. all he wants is the people he cares for to put their faith in him, and you’ve just proved you trust him with everything you have.
with you on his mind and in his arms, he drifts off into a deep slumber.
it’s remarkable how your parents remain completely oblivious of everything that’s been going on right underneath their noses. there’s been a few close calls, but nothing serious.
the last thing you expected after opening up to him was for you to grow even closer than you already were, yet that’s exactly what happened.
jeonghan has been particularly insatiable over the course of the past weeks. being all handsy, urging you to stay in his bed a little longer in the mornings, begging you to let him bury his head between your legs when he’s already done so several times — whatever’s in his system these days, it is strong.
not that you’re complaining.
being so comfortable with each other apparently also means pushing limits; the limits to possibly being caught, that is.
pushing his fingers inside you underneath the table when you’re having lunch with your parents, sneaking off into an empty classroom at university, showering together despite everyone being home ― the list goes on. there’s something thrilling about the idea of indulging in something you know you shouldn’t.
one line you haven’t crossed yet is slipping away from a charity event hosted by jeonghan’s father, though it seems that’ll be changing tonight.
jeonghan wasn’t planning on fucking you while the guests are still here, in his own home ― but you just look so gorgeous in that dress, and his jealousy is slowly but steadily going through the roof with every man coming up to you, clearly eyeing your dangerously low neckline.
as you’re heading to grab a new glass of champagne, you’re greeted by your dear stepbrother, and you’ve come to know him well enough to recognize that smug expression painted on his face.
“no.” you immediately tell him, and he huffs.
“oh, c’mon. you’re so not having fun right now.”
“can’t we just wait until everyone’s left?”
“on the contrary. this is the perfect timing.”
“yeah, for you, i bet. are you all hot and bothered, hannie?”
“i am, and you’re the only one who can fix it.”
the sarcasm might as well drip from your tongue. “wow, i feel so flattered.”
while your full attention is on jeonghan, and his attention is on you, neither of you are aware that joshua, who was invited alongside his parents, has been staring at you two since jeonghan approached you.
truth be told, joshua’s had the idea something was off about your dynamic that first moment he ever saw you interact with him, in the hallway at university.
jeonghan has never looked at anyone like he looks at you — full of intrigue, full of longing for something he can’t quite put his finger on. which he dismissed at first.
in spite of their close friendship, there is a certain barrier between them. there’s certain lines joshua won’t cross that jeonghan most definitely will, and perhaps he’s found his match in you.
but he still assumes that the relationship you have is platonic. surely it has to be.
only with each passing day, he begins to doubt that.
he’s itching to find out how you are with each other when you’re alone, and it’s a terrible thing to listen in on a conversation, but he wants this. desperately, for whatever reason.
he can’t help himself when he notices you going after him. following you from a distance, he quickly recognizes the room you head into is jeonghan’s.
the walls prove relatively thick, and his attempt to listen in from the outside fails, because he can’t hear anything.
so he blames the three glasses of champagne he downed earlier for making him go on with hasty decision-making as he quietly pushes the door handle down, not planning on actually entering the room, only having the door ajar.
jeonghan’s room is as big as a spacious apartment, so it’s no surprise joshua doesn’t see you anywhere at first.
it’s relatively quiet, with the crackling fireplace making the most noise, and he’s about to turn away from the door when he hears your voice in the background.
“you’re so impatient.”
then there’s jeonghan’s voice. “sue me.”
it remains somewhat quiet after that, until joshua hears noise he can’t make anything out of.
his curiosity gets the better of him, so he takes a few steps forward, peeking around the corner — only to find you together on top of the bed with messy hair and hands all over each other.
he’s taken aback with eyes blown wide as he watches the girl he likes half-naked and writhing underneath his best friend.
he hates how pretty you both look with the light of the fire reflecting on your skin.
jeonghan is completely caught up in the feeling of your heat around him when he throws his head back, but then he catches movement near the corner — and suddenly the two of them lock eyes.
of course he sees how borderline horrified joshua looks at the scene in front of him; he just can’t bring himself to care.
if anything, he simply ensures you keep your head turned the other way while burying himself deeper inside you, shooting his friend one of his classic lazy grins. your moans are the last thing joshua hears before he blinks to himself, leaving the room, nearly stumbling over his own feet in the process.
and jeonghan can only let out a satisfactory chuckle to himself, continuing to fuck you as if he didn’t just catch his best friend staring at the two of you.
matter of fact, it’s not until several days later that he sees him again, at university.
the hallway is as good as empty when joshua shakes his head at the sight of him. “i don’t wanna talk to you.”
“no? why’s that?”
shua grits his teeth. “how long has this been going on between you and her?”
“not long before our parents got married.”
“that’s several months.” he exclaims with his face even more horrified than before. “why the fuck would you hide something like this from me for so long?”
“why would i tell you at all, shua?”
a pang of hurt shoots through joshua’s chest, and he presses his lips together. “because i liked her.”
“and how was i supposed to know that?”
“you always know these things before i know them myself. don’t tell me you weren’t aware.”
jeonghan catches the hurt in his voice and decides to tone things down. “you’re right. i knew how you felt. i guess i didn’t know how to tell you.”
“look, whatever you’re doing with her needs to stop.”
well, so much for toning things down. he thinks he much prefers being clear and forward instead. “no it doesn’t.”
“jesus christ — you’re fucking your stepsister, jeonghan! how can you be remotely normal about this?”
where joshua’s anger rises, all that surges through jeonghan’s body is pride.
yeah, perhaps the whole thing should make him feel ashamed instead of boosting his ego, but it’s not like he hasn’t already crossed the line of what is and isn’t right. what’s the harm in going even further?
“i’m normal about it ‘cause i like doing it,” he shrugs, hardly attempting to hide his enjoyment, “we’re both adults. we already were when we met several months ago, we weren’t raised together, we’re not related in the slightest. so what does it matter?”
“oh, c’mon. she’s family to you now.”
“true. but i don’t care if i have to break up my father’s marriage for this, shua. she’s mine, one way or another.”
“is it just physical?”
“you’re asking me if i love her?” he nods for a moment, admitting how he feels about you. “i do. a lot. i don’t think i’ve ever felt this way about anyone else.”
that certainly puts a halt to joshua’s snarky comments for the time being. jeonghan is not the type of person to say something like that easily, which also means that no matter what he says, his best friend is not planning on giving you up anytime soon.
but joshua feels hurt ― so he’s going to test that love jeonghan harbors for you, even if it means stooping lower than he ever thought he would.
it’s silent, briefly. he leans closer to his face, narrowing his eyes. “does she know what you did?”
jeonghan’s blood runs cold at the sentence alone. his entire demeanor changes like the flip of a switch ― his lips are pressed together in sheer anger, and he visibly has to hold back from shoving his best friend against the wall. “the fuck did you just say to me?”
“she deserves to know.”
“oh, so now is the moment you suddenly have morals again? what happened to ‘taking it to the grave’, huh?”
“i don’t care what you do, it’s not my secret to tell. but like you said, she’s your family. if you two care about each other so much, then she should know.”
“shua, i value our friendship, which is why i won’t cuss the shit out of you right now, but this is not your business to meddle with. we keep this between us, just like we promised back then. got it?”
“sure.” the sound of joshua’s humorless chuckle rings through his ears. “you know, i used to wonder when you’d finally break. when the burden of what you did might get too much for your conscience. but eventually i realized that’s never gonna happen, because that conscience i thought you had? it doesn’t fucking exist.”
with those words, his best friend leaves him behind. jeonghan has to take a second to comprehend what just happened ― hell, he’s still not sure he heard it right.
neither joshua nor jeonghan are aware that you’ve been listening in on nearly the whole conversation from the other side of the corner, and you’re left asking yourself if you made a mistake trusting jeonghan with your secret.
because he clearly doesn’t trust you with his.
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VI. WHEN PUSH COMES TO SHOVE
jeonghan stares at the screen of his laptop with a hollow chest and overflowing thoughts.
truth be told, he doubts he’s ever felt this vulnerable.
ever since his falling out with joshua two weeks ago, life has been particularly shitty. his best friend still isn’t speaking to him, and you’ve suddenly started to distance yourself from him too, for whatever reason.
he’s pretty sure he’s going insane. it’s not like he said something to offend you, and you don’t even appear to be angry with him at all ― you’re still as lovely as ever, except you keep yourself far away from him.
every time he’s tried to talk to you, you managed to worm your way out of it, leaving him no choice but to speak to you when you’re about to go to bed.
“you’ve been avoiding me.”
as you’re taking your earrings out in front of the mirror, he watches you raise your brows in annoyance. “yeah, i have.”
“have i done something to upset you?” he hesitantly asks with a gentle voice and big eyes, and you almost begin to feel bad because of it.
you consider denying it and brushing it off but decide not to. “i overheard your conversation with joshua.”
he digs his nails into the palm of his hand. fuck.
“right.”
“that’s it? no witty remark?” you shrug, and jeonghan doesn’t miss the sharp edge to your words.
when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. it’s rare for him to be speechless, but he simply doesn’t know what to say to you.
it makes you even more annoyed than you already are. “you’re not going to tell me about the little secret you share with him, are you?”
he shoots you an apologetic look. “i can’t. i’m sorry.”
“why not?”
“because—” because he’s even worse than you are, “—i just can’t. and it’s not ‘cause i don’t trust you—”
“are you serious?” you frown at his sad attempt of making up an excuse. “look at what i’ve told you about me. i trusted you with something like that, but you don’t trust me.”
“i do.” he firmly interrupts. “i trust you more than anyone.”
“well, forgive me if i don’t believe that. if you’re not gonna tell me whatever it is you’re hiding, there’s the door.”
he waits for a second, the spasm in his fingertips being the only visible sign that he’s itching to tell you what’s been sitting on his conscience for so long ― yet not a single word comes out of his mouth.
with shoulders slumped in defeat, he hesitantly takes a step backwards, leaving you behind as he exits your room.
while walking down the hallway to get to his own room, he takes a deep breath. all he can tell himself is that this will probably blow over soon, and perhaps you’ll even forget about it, with time.
several weeks later, he realizes that those thoughts couldn’t be less true.
in the days that have passed since the argument, you’ve hardly even looked at him. he can’t stand this sudden distance between you ― he wishes you understood why he hasn’t told you the truth, but he’s afraid you’ll only understand that once he actually tells you. in which lies the problem.
he doesn’t do that kind of honesty. not usually, anyways.
now, for the first time in weeks, the crippling sense of loneliness he’s been feeling is replaced by annoyance.
he’s always hated the parties hosted by his father’s social circle ― but if he wants his inheritance, he’ll have to bear it. so he finds himself attending a gala in his tailored tuxedo, his hands sitting in his pockets, a deep frown set into his forehead.
maybe it was uncharacteristically naive of him to think everything could go back to the way things were before that conversation with joshua. the last thing he expected, though, was that he’d be the one left behind.
from a distance, he’s been keeping his eye on you. and from what he’s seen, you and joshua are friendly with each other again, and jeonghan gets the feeling his best friend only holds him accountable for the fact that you’re fucking.
truthfully, you came up to joshua a few days after overhearing their conversation, and you apologized he had to see you and his best friend together in the way that he did. with shua still holding a bit of a soft spot for you, he accepted your apology, and you’ve been enjoying his company ever since.
but he’s not jeonghan.
while anxiously tapping your finger against the champagne glass, you look around the room, since you’ve hardly even seen him tonight.
it’s as if joshua can read your mind. he leans down to speak in a hushed tone. “trouble in paradise?”
him taking notice of it makes you shrug. “no, everything’s fine.”
“sure.” he chuckles knowingly. “i get it. why do you think he’s still my best friend after all these years?”
“what do you mean?”
“i know you overheard our conversation a couple weeks ago. i saw you slip away, and now that i know you’re not on speaking terms with him, well… you put two and two together.”
“i’m guessing you’re not gonna tell me either?”
“i can’t. unfortunately.”
the cryptic response has you rolling your eyes at him. “i don’t understand why you guys are being so secretive about it.”
“because if he told you, you’d see him for who he really is.”
“and who would that be?”
“someone who…” he swallows for a moment. “someone who will make you question your own sanity. he’s willing to do the worst things you could possibly think of and then act like it’s completely normal. he’s the worst person i know.”
the brutal honesty catches you off guard. “so why do you keep going back to him?”
“i’ve asked myself the same question. there’s something about him that… i don’t know―just pulls you in, i guess.”
the short-lived silence makes you look at your glass of alcohol with a certain distaste.
“why are you telling me this, joshua? are you saying i should distance myself from him?”
“that’s the thing. there is no distancing yourself from him.”
“you make him sound like a monster.”
joshua doesn’t meet your eyes. “perhaps he is.”
the bitter statement leaves you baffled for a second — until you decide you’re sick of it. “for fuck’s sake, joshua, you can’t say something like that and not elaborate. i live in the same house as him.”
he’s clearly surprised by your sudden and strong grip on his arm, but all it takes is catching a single glance from jeonghan across the room for him to backtrack.
“i’m sorry.” is all he says to you before leaving you behind, hoping to find some peace and quiet in the empty hallway.
all he finds there is the opposite.
“you seem awfully close with my sister. thought you’d try again now that she’s not talking to me?”
joshua stops dead in his tracks. he turns around, seeing his best friend casually leaning against the wall, the soft light of the lamp above his head reflecting on his face. the red circles under his eyes almost match his hair.
“i’m not trying anything. i know she doesn’t like me like that.”
“i’m aware. but perhaps she’d naturally gravitate more towards liking you if you told her… our secret.” jeonghan manipulatively emphasizes, which his best friend fails to register.
joshua clenches his fist. “that’s something you would do. not me.”
“right. you’re a much better person than me.”
“i didn’t say that.”
“no, but you implied it.”
“just―just tell her the truth. i can’t stand that she knows we’re hiding something.”
“we’re not guilty of anything, shua. i told you that.”
“then why won’t you tell her?”
“because she wasn’t there. she wouldn’t understand.”
but his own worry clouds his judgement and shifts the conversation into a different direction. “i saw bitna tonight. it’s like she fucking knows what we did to her brother―”
jeonghan’s anger comes swift and harsh, causing joshua to flinch. “we agreed to remain silent on this, shua, so you need to keep your end of the deal.”
but jeonghan suddenly notices his best friend is now focused on something behind him, and as his body language changes into something smaller, jeonghan turns his head.
only to see you standing behind him with confused eyes.
fucking hell, he thinks to himself. what is it with everyone and eavesdropping these days?
“joshua, go outside, take a breather. i’ll be back.” he says, taking charge of the situation, barely making eye contact with you when he takes a few steps toward you, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him to an empty room he finds after opening one of the doors, shutting the door behind you. the jealousy is painfully obvious in his face.
“you can’t avoid me forever. and what the fuck are you doing ― being besties with joshua all of a sudden? seriously?”
“oh, so i need your approval on who i befriend now?”
“you know damn well that’s not what i’m saying. it makes zero sense for you to be mad at me but all buddy-buddy with him.”
“because you’re the one i trust! i never put my faith in him the way i put it in you!”
“do you really think i don’t feel the same way? if you actually believe i don’t trust you, you’re not as smart as i thought you to be.”
“fuck you, jeonghan. if you think i’ll ever open up to you again in the way that i did, you’re wrong.”
when you’re about to leave him behind, he stops you, tugging at your arm, and you sigh.
“please don’t leave. please.” he begs, his voice turning small. “i wanna tell you — i’m just scared to lose you when i do. and that’s the one thing i cannot handle.”
you scoff. “oh, c’mon, after what i did, how much worse can it possibly get?”
when he keeps quiet, looking you in the eye with a stern face, yours drops.
“jeonghan, what did you do?”
after opening the door to check if anyone’s there, then closing it again, he rubs his forehead. “me and joshua went on vacation to a winter retreat over our november break with a group of twenty, it was an initiative from a classmate. it ended up being a couple days of a lot of drinking, and then one night, someone pulled out the harddrugs. shua and i didn’t want any, and the guys who brought it clearly thought it was stupid. one of them was bitna’s brother.”
you just listen intently, gesturing for him to continue.
“eventually, he went outside to grab more beer from the storage by himself, which was about a five-minute walk from the house. i slipped out of the room without anyone noticing and went after him. there was a snow storm outside, so the weather was shit. once i got to the storage, i told him to stop harassing shua about taking any drugs, but he reacted badly to it. we got into a fight, i don’t even remember who threw the first punch, but… i pushed him, and when he fell backwards, it’s like i could hear the crack in his skull. he was bleeding from the back of his head, unable to get up. i grabbed my phone to call for help, but all i did was stare at my screen. the guy was bleeding out in front of me and i let him die instead of letting anyone know. and it would’ve been fine — had joshua not come outside.”
“did he watch everything?”
“no, i don’t think he did. i told him exactly what had happened, and he… he came up with the idea of framing it as an unfortunate accident. so that’s what we did. the other guys were so coked out that night that they only found the body the next day, buried under a layer of snow. the cops found the drugs in his system, and he clearly hit his head, so they ruled it an accident like we’d hoped.”
“and you swore to take it to the grave.” you fill in the blanks, and he nods at you. “why didn’t you tell me this when i asked you? what were you so afraid of?”
you see something in him you’ve never seen before — tears. nervousness. panic.
his eyes turn red and his throat tightens up. “when you told me your secret, i was… happy. because the person i care for the most is the only one who’s experienced what i have. but what you had to do was nothing more than an accident, and what i did was on purpose. i could’ve saved that guy, yet i chose not to. i don’t care if that makes me a bad person — i just don’t want you to see me that way. as selfish as that may be.”
he’s on the verge of sobbing, trembling fingers sitting on your waist.
little does he know that you don’t view him as a bad person at all. “you had to make a choice, and you made the right one. who knows what they would’ve done to you if you’d told the truth.”
all he can do is nod, his throat too closed-off to talk.
“you’re my brother. you’ll always have me, jeonghan.” you tell him, remembering the words he said to you after you confessed what was weighing so heavily on your conscience.
and jeonghan cannot help gazing at you ― he realizes that you understand him more than anyone else ever will. he’s free to completely be himself with you as you are with him, and he’s finally processing that.
he cups your face, staring at your lips before pressing his own on them.
the kiss is slow but hungry — full of greed and care and wanting. his hands move from your face to your back, pressing your body closer to his, aching for your bodies to mold together and become one.
his whole body trembles when you break the kiss, and you cup his face as he did yours.
he can’t believe he gave you his bare heart on a silver platter and you chose to stay. you see him for all he is, and in spite of his many flaws, you want him just as much as before.
yoon jeonghan, for the first time in his life, finally knows what it’s like to be loved in the way he so desperately yearned for.
and he wants to show you that he loves you just as much. he leans in to kiss you again, but just when his lips are about to touch yours, the door whips open, and you’re greeted by a phone shoved in front of you.
the vulnerability on your faces is gone the second you recognize the person holding the phone as bitna — who seems horrified.
“what the fuck are you doing?” jeonghan sneers when he realizes she made a picture of your near-kiss.
she stumbles in her step, and it seems like she’s had one too many glasses of champagne. “at first i thought i was imagining things at the party, but i was right. i was trying to finally tell you how much i liked you, even after all these years, and you ditched me for your fucking stepsister!”
that makes you raise your brow. jeonghan just confessed to killing her brother, yet this is what she chooses to talk about — she probably wasn’t eavesdropping, then.
“and how is that any of your business? we’ve barely even spoken to each other since high school.” he responds, his voice to her colder than he’s ever been to you.
“maybe it’s not my business. but the rest of your friends here deserve to know what you’ve been up to, if you ask me.” she says, attempting to make her tone sound just as mean as his, but the tremble in her voice gives her away.
when she grabs her phone and begins to type like she’s on a timer, you both realize what she’s about to do — she’s gonna upload the picture.
if that photo of you and jeonghan gets out, it’ll have serious consequences.
you attempt to snatch the phone out of her hand, but she’s quicker, her sharp nails leaving a scratch on your wrist.
jeonghan sees you hiss from the pain, and he pushes her up against the wall, his hand wrapped around her throat.
“don’t even fucking try it.”
bitna panics and shoves her knee right into his crotch, causing him to grunt from the impact, forced to let go of her neck as he collapses on the floor.
she grabs her phone and runs out of the hallway, and you don’t waste a second, running after her.
with the gala taking place at a mansion by the countryside, you’re far away from civilization, mostly just surrounded by the forest and some badly lit roads.
you go after her even when she runs outside through the backdoor, right between the tall trees. it’s when she trips over her heels that you’re finally able to catch up with her, and you flip her around to choke her unconscious, but she uses her nails to scratch across your face this time.
“fuck!” you yell, and she uses the moment to escape once more.
with a few drops of blood on your face, you get up to go after her again, fueled by the adrenaline and blazing hatred in your system.
she keeps running, looking back to you from over her shoulder, and it’s right at that moment that she runs onto the road, forgetting to check whether there’s any traffic in her haste — and she gets pushed over by an incoming car.
shock hits you briefly, and you contemplate hiding between the trees to leave the scene of the crime until you recognize the car as well as its driver.
jeonghan gets out, and you run over to him, finding him standing by bitna’s body, which is now several meters away from the car due to the crash.
“fucking hell — what just happened? i wasn’t even trying to hit her, she just ran in front of the car out of fucking nowhere—did she do that to your face?”
with your breathing slowing bit by bit, you nod, and you both look down at the body, only to realize she’s still breathing, but her injuries are so bad that she can’t get up, and she’s coughing up blood. hell, it looks like she can hardly even move at all.
the sound of her pained grunts hardly affect you when you take her phone out of her pocket to delete the picture before putting it back again.
“sweetheart.” jeonghan says to you, and you look at each other for a moment. “she knows too much.”
you sigh, turning around to check if there’s any cars coming, but the road is remote and empty, and it’s late at night.
“who’s gonna do it?”
he wordlessly sinks down to one knee, staring down at bitna even when his hand squeezes her throat and the life leaves her eyes. he only closes his eyes when some splatters of the blood she was coughing up hits his cheek, which he wipes away with his other hand.
when he checks her pulse to see if she’s still alive, you see a single car nearing the scene, the driver of which you then recognize as the last person that should see this.
joshua hits the brakes and hurries out of the car. “i saw you drive off like crazy, what the hell happened—”
his words are caught in his throat when he sees the body.
“shua. she’s gone.” your voice is strained as the sobs remain choked-up in your throat, your shaky hands tugging at his arm.
tears well up in his eyes. “what the—how did this happen?”
jeonghan forces himself to sound remotely shaken up. “i just drove here and she ran in front of the car. it was an accident, i swear.”
but a part of joshua doesn’t buy it. “out of nowhere? what the fuck is this, jeonghan? are you lying to me?”
“no. i swear to you—”
but he doesn’t let him finish. “this is insane. we have to do something, tell the cops what happened here, and with her brother—”
it’s then that jeonghan’s softer approach fades into something meaner. he pushes him against the hood of the car, trying to talk some sense into him. “and what do you think the cops will say, huh? you think they’ll just smile at you for fessing up and let you walk out freely? you’re an accomplice to murder, shua. everyone you know will hate you. this will haunt your name for the rest of your life ― get it into your thick skull once and for all.”
joshua’s breathing quickens with his sobs. “i can’t deal with this the way you can. i can’t do it.”
“you can, and you will.” he grabs his face, wiping the fresh tears away. “you just have to breathe, and you deny. you deny everything. you were not here, okay? i need you to go home, she and i will fix this.”
“you can’t keep making me go through this. how many more deaths do i need to have on my conscience before it’s enough?”
jeonghan shakes his head calmly, embracing him, his one hand on the back of joshua’s neck. “it’s not your fault, shua. it’ll be okay, promise.”
joshua glances at you, seeing your distraught face, and the portion of trust he lost in his best friend, he chooses to find in you.
and so he believes it. he tells himself it was an accident, and does what he’s told.
the moment joshua walks back to get into his car, jeonghan peers at you, the flickering red light reflecting on your tear-streaked face. the emotions you were displaying mere seconds ago are entirely gone, replaced by something numb and indifferent in the blink of an eye.
it’s like looking into a mirror.
as joshua’s in the driver’s seat, jeonghan tells him what to do one last time before the younger of the two drives off, leaving only you and your brother behind.
what happens next is like a blur. jeonghan tells you something about a nearby lake, which is where he takes the body to get rid of it. once he returns, he’s empty-handed, save for the fresh blood on his conscience.
you’re in the driver’s seat, watching him get in beside you, his clothes stained with red spots.
he sits still for a moment, but as soon as you turn your head, he holds your chin and kisses you.
it’s far less gentle than before, more lust than anything, but it’s something you both need right now.
with your forehead leaning against his, you breathe into each other’s mouths. “we gotta go home, hannie. before our parents get back.” you whisper.
all he can do is hum in agreement, kissing you one more time before you start the car.
once you’re home, you park the car out of sight, as it needs to be cleaned and repaired.
you eventually manage to get into jeonghan’s room unseen. he yanks his stained shirt over his head, throwing it into the fireplace to get rid of every piece of evidence he can think of. you immediately go on to wash your hands by the sink.
it’s interesting for you to watch how he behaves at a moment like this — it’s hard to tell whether his thoughts are racing or completely frozen. he moves to the bathroom to scrub the blood off his hands and nails, going at it for several minutes until there’s not a speck of red left.
then he comes walking back, heading straight for the whiskey bottle on top of the coffee table to down two glasses in one go.
“you put up a show for joshua.” he states.
“what do you mean?”
“the crying. it stopped the second you knew he wasn’t paying attention to it anymore.”
kudos to him for being so perceptive. you didn’t think he noticed.
“so?”
he takes a few steps over to you. “i saw it. that moment your expression completely changed… i used to think we were different, in a way. but we’re really not.”
it only makes you shrug your shoulders. “and now? am i no longer a good person to you, little brother?”
jeonghan mimics the teasing in your tone. “i think being a good person is overrated.”
his tone and gaze and grip on your hips is harsher than usual, and as soon as he’s got you pressed against the wall, you realize he’s rock-hard.
“you looked so fucking good doing that. the way you talked to joshua, saying the exact things you needed to say to get him to believe you, the blood on your face—” he mutters, completely lost in his desires now that you’ve made them a reality, “you were perfect. my sweet sister.”
your nails harshly dig into his skin, hot arousal dripping between your legs. you pull your dress of and discard it onto the floor, taking a few steps back to his desk, pulling him with you with your finger at the waistband of his boxers.
“need you in me. please, i’m so fucking wet—”
after laying you back on his desk, he rubs his cock against your entrance, finding you soaking for him, and he has to force himself to keep his composure and not completely fall apart already.
a shameless moan escapes him when he pushes himself inside you, and his pace quickly increases, his mouth moving to your sensitive nipples. you wrap your legs around his waist at the sensation, and his warm saliva coats your breasts while he keeps fucking into you.
you don’t think the coil in your stomach has ever built up this fast. all you want is for him to keep fucking you throughout the night, and by the looks of it, he’s far from done with you.
he leaves hickeys all over your upper body, feeling more possessive of you than ever before, and you suck his cock so tightly into your cunt that he wants to stay like this forever.
“let me cum inside you, baby, please. wanna see it drip out of you — oh my god, please, let me have it—”
the sound of his begging turns you even wetter. “yes, yes, cum in me, hannie.”
it’s a mere matter of seconds before you feel him shudder, emptying himself inside you, and he looks down to see drops of his white cum seeping out of your dripping pussy. he watches you rub at your clit before you dip your finger inside, pushing his cum back into you, and his breath visibly hitches in his throat.
his cock has never been hard faster, and he rubs himself at the sight of your pussy, moaning when you begin to finger yourself in front of him, the wet noise ringing through his ears.
“let me fuck you again. wanna fuck you again so bad, baby, look at how wet you are, jesus christ—”
“want it harder this time, hannie.” you nod, pulling him closer to you again, and he’s utterly hypnotized, as if you’re some holy being speaking to someone beneath you.
and as always, he’ll gladly oblige you, so he sheathes himself inside, giving you exactly what you want.
you both lose complete track of time in his room, lost in your own world, waking up the next day to the news that the girl whose body you dumped into the lake is considered missing by the authorities.
it’s two days later when they discover her body, and as you’d hoped, the police appear to believe her death was an unfortunate accident rather than cold-blooded murder.
bitna’s funeral is grim.
it’s more crowded than you anticipated, but the majority of people attending are either family, current classmates or former classmates, you and jeonghan falling into the latter categories. you blend in well with the other attendees.
with your black coats and leather gloves on, you stare at the casket being lowered into the ground.
once the people leaving are out of earshot, the two of you glance at the tombstone. “what a shame. she was young.”
jeonghan nods slowly. “and she made a mistake by trying to meddle with business that wasn’t hers.”
“do you have any regrets? about the things that happened?”
“no. do you?”
“i should, probably. but i don’t.” you shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. “i have a feeling joshua is gonna lose his shit, though. he’s fragile.”
“you’d be surprised, actually.” he leans toward you, making sure that no one can hear him. “when bitna’s brother died, it was his idea to frame it as suicide.”
“seriously? i thought it was yours.”
“to be fair, i’d come up with the idea already, but i wanted him to be the one to say it. all he needed was me mentioning what the consequences would be — were we to confess what happened. the image of spending a solid part of your life in prison does wonders for some.”
deadpanning a stare, you snort. “you manipulated him into coming up with the suicide so he couldn’t blame you later on.”
a smirk tugs at his lips, yet he tilts his head. “don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.”
“fine, you got me there.”
you both chuckle quietly, after which it’s briefly quiet. shifting your gaze down to the ground, you huff to yourself.
“well, i guess this is who we are when no one can stop us.” you sigh. “somehow always at the scene of the crime.”
“this is who we are when we take care of each other.” he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side, rubbing at your clothed skin as he holds you. “you’re my sister. i’ll do anything for you — i want you to know that.”
“i do.” you nod, laying your head down on his shoulder. “i also know you don’t want me to protect you, but… i will. always.”
with a kiss pressed to your temple, he gives you his response to the sentiment.
sure, you and jeonghan may not share the same blood, but you are bound by the secrets you’ve shared and the blood you’ve spilled, and all you can feel for the future is… excitement.
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thank u for reading. please let me know if u enjoyed it x
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
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pascaloverx · 14 days ago
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STARVE
Summary: You lost your husband some time ago while he served as a gladiator for Emperors Geta and Caracalla. General Acacius saved you from becoming an object of pleasure for the emperors. Since then, he has taken you as his mistress. In your free time, you became a disciple of Ravi, the healer, dedicating yourself to tending to wounded gladiators. All seemed to be in perfect harmony until Hanno, a gladiator driven by a thirst for vengeance, crossed your path.
Author's Note: And the gods said: Starve will be a multi-chapter fanfiction (I hope readers will follow it all the way through). Without further ado, the characters belong to Ridley Scott's Gladiator II universe, though there will be significant deviations from the film. Historical accuracy regarding life in the Roman Empire may not always be strictly observed, so I hope you can overlook that. Yes, this story revolves around a love triangle, but I will strive to satisfy everyone. This fanfiction will include adult content, violence, and potentially coarse language. Enjoy!
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TWO
Days, perhaps more, have passed. You and Hanno have been meeting in secret, seizing moments when there was no sign of General Acacius. All that you were permitted to know was that he was recovering in the company of his beloved wife, Lucilla, who made it clear she wanted no trace of your presence near her husband. The absence of Acacius weighed upon you more than you cared to admit. To be denied access to him felt akin to holding your breath for far too long. Yet, your clandestine encounters with Hanno had proven to be a welcome distraction, enough to keep your mind from lingering too deeply on what you could not change.
"Your gladiator is requesting your care, Y/N. And while we are on the subject, your encounters under the pretext of physical care will soon spark rumors," Ravi remarks as he steps into the chamber where he keeps his healing tools. "General Acacius will be the first to rage if he learns of your escapades. Should Emperors Geta and Caracalla grow suspicious, they may presume you are seeking a new lover. Not to mention the possibility of Macrinus taking offense at your growing closeness with his gladiator." You remain crouched, organizing a collection of herbs, a faint smile tugging at your lips. Hanno needs you—or rather, he has summoned you for yet another session of personal defense training.
"Ravi, believe me, I am well aware of the risks I take in daring to draw close to Hanno. Yet, I choose to take them—something no one of sound mind would do. General Acacius will not always be there to save me in the future. Lucilla has made her stance on my involvement with him abundantly clear. You do not see him here, concerned for me, do you? Precisely for that reason, I must think of the future." You speak as you search for the garment General Acacius once left at your disposal, should you ever need to fight.
"Since you are so determined to take such risks, be cautious. The guards will bring Hanno to be treated, and you will have only that time to practice—whatever it is you two practice," Ravi warns, much as he does each time you and Hanno meet, repeating the same cautions.
"I shall change my attire. If you would, dear friend, make Hanno comfortable until I return," you say, rising and moving toward the exit of the space where you and Ravi have tended to countless gladiators. "If all goes well today, I shall be one step closer to becoming more than a healer or a lover. I shall be the closest thing to a warrior I can aspire to be." Ravi nods, though a hint of worry lingers in his expression. He is the closest thing to an ally you have.
Time rushes by when one is on the brink of doing something forbidden, but you no longer concern yourself with the consequences. You are resolute to take control of your destiny, even if that control is but a sliver. Once dressed, you secure the dagger Acacius once gifted you in a hidden compartment of your attire. It is your small but vital secret, and you are steadily improving in its use.
With purpose in your stride, you make your way swiftly to where Hanno is awaiting you. When you arrive, his eyes brighten at the sight of you. "I see your delay is justified; you look prepared for battle. Let us see if you can land a blow," Hanno says, advancing toward you with a predatory gait meant to intimidate.
You meet his gaze with an unflinching smile. "Save your words for when we’re truly facing off, gladiator," you reply, following him to the familiar training grounds. It is the very arena where countless gladiators sharpen their skills, preparing for the moment they will stand before the emperors in the grand coliseum.
As soon as you step into the center of the training grounds, Hanno strikes without warning. His sword arcs toward you, narrowly missing as you instinctively step back. At the start of this combat practice, both of you wield swords, though your grasp on its use remains novice.
"Have you lost your sanity, Hanno? I wasn’t ready," you exclaim, fixing him with a glare of irritation. He advances on you again, silent and relentless, as if transformed into a stranger intent on attack. His gaze is unwavering, his resolve sharp.
"When you’re defending yourself, no one will wait for you to be ready, nor will they show you mercy. I want you to see me as you would see any foe who dares strike at you," Hanno declares, his sword slashing toward you again. You react, relying on your defensive maneuvers, retreating step by step until a strategy for counterattack begins to form in your mind.
"I’m not so sure; you seem to be enjoying this far too much," you retort, timing your movements before landing your first offensive strike. It catches him off guard, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face. The gap between you narrows, charged with the thrill of the fight and something deeper, more electrifying.
"I am enjoying it just as much as you enjoy patching me up with that brute strength of yours, healer. Now, focus," Hanno says, parrying your blow with unnerving precision. It’s like a dance—each movement perfectly countering the other. You attack; he defends. He strikes; you block. The rhythm between you is almost hypnotic, an eerie harmony born of tension and skill. But then, in a risky maneuver, Hanno manages to disarm you. Your sword flies from your grasp, landing far out of reach. Now standing mere steps apart, your eyes meet, both of you breathing heavily. It feels like the end for you, so why not take a chance?
With a surge of reckless determination, you rush toward him, channeling all your strength into an attempt to topple him. In your mind, it isn’t Hanno you’re facing—it’s an enemy, someone who would do you harm. Your unexpected move catches him off guard, and he falls to the ground. By sheer luck or fate, his sword slips from his grip as well. Now, you find yourself on top of him, both of you unarmed. The air between you is charged, your breaths mingling as silence envelops the space.
"It seems I have bested the great gladiator of Macrinus," you say, pressing your body lightly against his, a triumphant smile on your lips. Hanno smirks, his hands firmly gripping your waist as he swiftly reverses your positions, pinning you beneath him with effortless strength.
"Do not be deceived, healer," he murmurs, his piercing gaze locking with yours. But you are not so easily subdued. With a practiced movement, you draw the hidden dagger from your vestments and press it against his neck, the blade gleaming in the dim light. "Your presumption is touching, gladiator," you retort, your tone both teasing and sharp.
"What will you do next, healer?" Hanno asks, his breath warm against your face. The tension between you ignites instantly, palpable and undeniable. Before you can respond, he pulls your face closer to his, his lips capturing yours with a fervent intensity, as though he means to consume you entirely. At first, you almost resist Hanno’s kiss—it feels forbidden, a boundary you should not cross. Since your husband’s passing, Acacius was the only man you had kissed. Yet, as Hanno’s tongue ventures into your mouth, you find yourself surrendering, the kiss quickly becoming mutual.
In truth, Hanno is devouring you, but you refuse to let him take the upper hand so easily. You tug at his hair with force, pulling him closer, demanding his full attention. The kiss deepens, its intensity increasing to the point of no return. You want him to feel your hunger, to know that you wish to consume him just as much. For all its forbidden allure, you crave this moment—not because of duty or obligation, but because you want it. You want to know what it feels like to kiss someone you shouldn't, to rebel against every expectation tethering you. Your husband was not forced upon you, but your marriage had been a safeguard. Becoming Acacius’ lover served a similar purpose. But with Hanno, nothing feels safe. And perhaps that is why you let this moment unfold. There is no security here, no veil of protection. If you and Hanno are caught, Acacius could kill him, both the Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla could execute you, and the repercussions would be endless. Yet, none of that matters as your lips clash with his in this reckless, intoxicating dance of defiance.
The kiss is all-consuming, so intense that, for a moment, it steals your breath. You pause, pulling away to recover the air you desperately need. Yet Hanno seems unsatisfied, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that threatens to unravel your resolve.
His hand cups your face, fingers tracing over every detail as if committing you to memory. When his thumb brushes over your lips, he murmurs softly, "Your lips remind me of hers, my beautiful Arishat." Reality strikes like a sharp blade. He is with you, yet his mind lingers on his late wife. The weight of that truth is unbearable. As he leans forward, seeking your lips once more, you push him away, creating the distance you now desperately need.
"I will not be her replacement," you think, your resolve firm. "Nor Lucilla’s substitute." Avoiding his gaze, your shame and frustration burn within you. Rising quickly, you make your way toward your quarters. You and Ravi must always be prepared to tend to the wounded, so your rooms are close to where the gladiators train and where Ravi keeps his healing tools.
"Healer," Hanno calls out behind you, his voice firm yet laced with something softer. He follows after you, refusing to let the moment end so abruptly.
"Gladiator," you say, turning to face Hanno. Your body nearly collides with his, but you take a step back, halting the chase that had ensued. "Our training is done. I think it would be wise for us to part ways now, so as not to confuse..." You pause, searching for the right word to define what you might be confusing, only for Hanno to step abruptly closer, almost closing the space entirely.
"I am not confused about anything, healer," he says, his tone firm yet sincere. "I was lost momentarily in a memory, but I assure you, I knew exactly who I was kissing." He takes another step forward, his presence overwhelming.
"The act itself is already a problem, gladiator," you reply, struggling to maintain composure under his intense gaze. "We should not have kissed." Before he can respond, both of you hear footsteps approaching. In an instant, Hanno’s hand moves to your waist, pulling you behind him as though to shield you from whatever danger may come. Ravi appears, nearly running toward you, his face etched with worry.
"General Acacius has been seen heading this way," Ravi announces, his voice hurried and panicked. "The guards are murmuring that he’s coming to see you, Y/N. I suggest we get Hanno out of here immediately, and you prepare yourself to receive him."
The mention of Acacius sends a cold dread through you. Him encountering Hanno now would spell disaster. "Tell the guards who brought Hanno to retrieve him from here," you instruct, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside. "Hanno and I will change out of these combat garments, and I’ll distract Acacius while the guards take Hanno back to his cell. Ravi, I’ll need your speed."
Without hesitation, Ravi nods and rushes off to summon the guards. You, in turn, push Hanno toward a secluded area where he can change out of his training gear. "Change in there and wait for me," you instruct firmly. Noticing the swords in his hands, you swiftly take them from him despite his protests. With no time to spare, you carry the weapons back to your quarters while Hanno remains in the area where you and Ravi usually tend to injured gladiators. In the quiet urgency of your chambers, you hastily change your attire, your mind racing with the precariousness of the situation. Hanno waits silently, the gravity of the moment clear to both of you.
"Do you fear what might happen should General Acacius discover your association with the gladiator who recently sought his life?" Hanno asks as you enter the room where he waits patiently to be taken back to his cell.
"I do not fear for myself," you reply, adjusting your tunic with calm precision. "I fear that if you and he meet, there will be unnecessary bloodshed. As I’ve told you before, if you wish to kill him, do so in a duel—before the people of Rome. Sate the appetite of Emperors Geta and Caracalla as they watch you strike at each other in a frenzied battle for glory in the name of the gods."
Hanno listens intently, his expression thoughtful as he steps closer. Without a word, he helps you smooth the folds of your tunic, his touch deliberate yet gentle. "Will you tell him of our association, then?" he asks, finishing his adjustments and letting his hand linger briefly as it grazes your cheek.
"What is there to tell?" you counter, meeting his gaze with resolve. "Our association is no one’s concern." A smile spreads across Hanno’s face, slow and satisfied, as if your answer pleased him greatly.
Moments later, Ravi appears, his expression tense. "The guards are near," he informs, his tone clipped. His gaze shifts between you and Hanno, briefly noting the closeness between you, though he chooses to remain silent. With a small nod, Ravi turns to Hanno, gesturing for him to follow. Hanno casts you a lingering look before allowing Ravi to lead him toward the guards, leaving you behind with the weight of the encounter still pressing on your chest.
You wait patiently for General Acacius to arrive, though his delay stretches longer than anticipated. The thought suddenly strikes you—he might already be in your quarters, as he has been on previous occasions.
"Would you care to explain," his voice calls out, smooth and laced with quiet reproach, "what reasons led my beloved healer, whom I hold in such high regard, to abandon me to the care of Ravi instead of tending to me herself?" Turning toward the source, you find him stepping into view, pulling back the mantle that had concealed his face and form. His approach is measured, deliberate, and his gaze briefly flickers to the swords you had left behind without considering they might draw his notice.
"You should have sought explanations from your wife, General Acacius," you reply, your tone calm but firm, though the effort to keep it so is greater than it seems. "It was she who instructed me, in the presence of the guards no less, to withdraw from tending to your care." His footsteps pause near the swords, his attention drawn to their gleaming edges. The air between you grows heavier as his eyes shift back to yours, narrowing slightly as he regards you. You remain steadfast, though the distance you keep from him feels tenuous, as if he could close it with the simplest of steps.
"I was not informed of such a decision; I would never have allowed my care to pass from your hands to another's," General Acacius speaks softly, his tone a mixture of calm and yearning as he moves toward you with deliberate caution, yet there is a palpable hunger in his eyes.
"General, whether you authorized it or not is irrelevant," you reply, holding your ground though the weight of his presence begins to press upon you. "Lucilla no longer wishes for us to remain close. Surely, you remember that when all this began, you told me that if your wife were ever to object to our association, even if it was merely for appearances, it would end."
Your words are firm, yet the truth they carry sinks heavily into your own heart. You know now, with certainty, that the chapter of your life entwined with Acacius is nearing its inevitable conclusion.
"Those words were spoken before we became what we are today," Acacius responds, his voice steady yet filled with a quiet intensity. "Surely you know I have no intention of abandoning you." He steps closer, his gaze unwavering, his nearness suffocating in its allure.
"Do not worry for me. Your pity is no longer necessary, Acacius," you say, though the ache in your chest betrays the pain these words bring. Deep down, you have long feared that what he felt for you stemmed from nothing but pity.
"I have never pitied you," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with conviction. "Perhaps I felt empathy for your pain in the beginning, but after that—everything was real. Your presence makes me a better man." His hand reaches up to touch your face, tenderly tracing its contours as if to soften your resolve. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, an intimate gesture meant to draw you back to him, to coax you into his embrace once more.
"You owe your loyalty to your wife, not to me," you say, your voice faltering slightly under the weight of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. "We must no longer allow ourselves to feel anything beyond what is proper, Acacius." Even as you speak, your resolve weakens beneath his touch, his words a balm and a temptation all at once. He seems heedless of your protest, intent only on closing the distance between you.
"Lucilla has my loyalty, but you... you have my protection. I will not leave you unguarded," Acacius says, his lips almost brushing against yours, his voice weighted with emotion.
"Then you should know that my loyalty is no longer yours exclusively," you reply, steadying yourself as you deliver the words. You feel the sharp recoil in Acacius as he steps back, his expression hardening, though disbelief flickers in his eyes.
"I am involved with another," you continue, forcing the lie to your lips with a strength you did not know you possessed. "It may mean that I will no longer require your protection in the future." Your words are a dagger you wield with precision, for you know that to continue as his lover would jeopardize his marriage—a risk you cannot allow, no matter the desires that linger within you.
"Who would dare attempt to claim you, knowing that you are mine?" General Acacius demands, his voice edged with irritation that betrays a rare crack in his calm demeanor. His gaze narrows, his presence no less imposing, but the fury brewing beneath his words sends a shiver through you. You realize the fire you have kindled within him may burn brighter than you anticipated.
"Someone who does not fear the wrath of General Acacius," you say, your voice steady despite the undeniable pull of his proximity. You desire him, undeniably so, but you know you must not have him.
"It is clear that our involvement must end—now. Before it concludes in disaster," you declare, watching as Acacius processes your words, his gaze shadowed with an intensity that seems both pained and unyielding.
"Then let it be clear to you," Acacius responds, his tone laced with an unwavering authority, though no threat lies in his words. "Whoever dares to encroach upon what is mine will meet the edge of my sword without delay. Our bond will not be severed while either of us draws breath, Y/N. Keep that in mind." His declaration is resolute, not spoken as a plea but as a statement of his immutable commitment to you. It leaves you breathless, the weight of his words pressing against the fortress of your resolve.
"You cannot protect me forever, Acacius. Just as I cannot heal you forever," you murmur, stepping closer, your desperation palpable as though silently begging him to release you—to let you go before you both reach a precipice from which there is no return.
"Mea domina," he whispers reverently, stepping closer and pulling down the fabric covering your shoulder with deliberate care. His lips press softly against the exposed skin, lingering as if to seal a silent vow. The tenderness in his touch conveys more devotion than desire, a gesture that leaves you caught between longing and regret.
"I would die if necessary, but I will not abandon those I hold in the highest esteem. You and Lucilla are my priorities, and I will relinquish neither of you. If you place so much faith in this new interest of yours, let him come to me bearing a sword, and he shall find his end," he declares, his voice unwavering and resolute, his words resonating like a solemn oath.
Acacius lifts his hand to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as his lips trace a path of soft kisses along your temple, down to the curve of your jaw, and finally your forehead. His lips linger as if memorizing each contour of your face, avoiding your mouth deliberately—a clear boundary, or perhaps his way of expressing silent reproach for the words you have spoken. The kisses feel like a claim, yet also a farewell—his way of both cherishing and punishing, of reminding you of his commitment while withholding the one intimacy he knows you yearn for. The intensity in his gaze as he pulls back speaks volumes, as though he is willing you to see the depths of his resolve. "At times, it feels as though battle is all you truly understand, Acacius," you say, holding his gaze with a penetrating look, as if unraveling the depths of his thoughts.
"I am a man of honor," he replies, his tone firm yet measured. "I will not seek out the man who dares to involve himself with you, but neither will I stand idle should he attempt to take what is rightfully mine." His presence remains close, commanding and resolute, as though he seeks to claim not just the space but the moment itself. With deliberate care, Acacius reaches out, his hand brushing your face in a touch that is at once gentle and laden with unspoken meaning. It lingers, as if he wishes to commit every contour of your features to memory.
Without another word, he steps back, retreating from your chambers with the disciplined stride of a general accustomed to carrying the weight of empires. His departure leaves the room heavy with unresolved tension, the air thick with the echoes of what cannot be spoken. Alone, you are left to ponder the tangled web of emotions and loyalties binding you to both Acacius and Hanno. The weight of your entanglement bears down upon you, as inevitable as the arena’s call to blood and glory.
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rainroses45 · 23 days ago
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My Niece is a Goldfish?
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۶ৎ description: Imagine when Dean goes to go pick up Sam from college, not only is the news of John being missing brought up but another little surprise was on its way. Dean Winchester x fem! reader ۶ৎ a/n: I have like 4 different incomplete stories in my notes app rn and I'm just so lazy because who the hell wants to read my garbage when people want smut but oh well i tried…not my best not my worst idc (Not edited) ۶ৎ song inspiration: Back to the Basics - Lana Del Rey ۶ৎ Warnings: ZIP ZERO NONE NADA
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“Woah dude, why is there a car seat in the back?” Sam stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at the floral pink booster.
Dean had just broken into his apartment like a serial killer in the middle of night, dragged Sam out into the street after somehow convincing him to join him on trying to locate their dead beat father, and now there is a missing infant.
“Great.” Sam thought, “Dean caused an Amber alert.”
“Shit!” Dean scurried to the impala, hoping - no, praying that his brother developed cataracts or something. “I told them not to leave the car.”
“Them?!” Sam followed Dean around the impala. “What are you talking about?!”
“I told her not to leave,” Dean angrily said while dialing your number, “and what does she do,” he puts the flip phone to his ear, “she leaves.”
“Dean,” Sam walked over to him, still being completely ignored, “hellloooo??” He waved his hands in front of his older brother. “Who are you talking about?”
“Pick up, pick up,” Dean ignore him, anxiously tapped his thigh looking around, waiting for the phone to stop ringing, and your voice to answer.
“Okay if you are about done now with your little tap routine, I’m going back-“ Dean grabbed Sam’s shirt pulling him back like a dog on a leash.
“They couldn’t have gone far-” He shoved the flip phone in his pocket, frantically searching the area with worried eyes. “Dean let go man…” “You take that direction and I’ll check this side, maybe if we..”
“Dean, sweetie did you find Sam?”
And is if the lights from heaven sent a giant satellite beam on you, Dean turned around blindly searching for your voice.
“Oh my dear cream of tartar where have you been?!” Dean flared his hands down looking at you like you’ve been missing for months.
“Okay what the actual fuck is going on?” Sam was close to just throwing his duffle bag at the window, heading back into bed, and taking a melatonin.
Dean waved him off unfortunately to his demise. “Not right now bowl head I just saw all of my lives flash before me.”
“You’re such a baby.” You commented. You held what looked like to sam a tiny sack of potatoes with a pink blanket covering it from the winds.
“Does that mean I get to-“
“NO!” Both you and Sam scream - both for different reasons but the same sense of warning nonetheless.
“Okay can someone explain to me what is happening right now?”Sam ran his hands through his hair desperately trying to contain a forming headache from all this mojo of chaos.
“Well my dear Sammy, while you went off to college I decided to adopt the brady brunch- what the fuck do you think happened?” Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance walking over to you and the baby.
Sam now able to adjust his eyes realized the sack of potatoes turned out to be a little baby with the rosiest checks ever.
“I didn’t think you would end up with child.” Dean groaned at Sam’s comment.
“What are we the England Monarch? No of course I didn’t plan on bringing a baby into this world but stuff happens..” Dean trailed off, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal. Sam on the other hand was having a whole mental gymnastics session trying to figure out how the hell things changed so fast.
“How is my little precious princess doing,” your husband pulled the blank down gently to see his daughter’s beautiful eyes peak out. She had the same sparkle and shape as yours to the point he could even see the tiny hew surrounding the pupil - she was beautiful.
“Sorry for leaving sweetheart,” you said to Dean, watching his cute reaction to his daughter gazing up at him. “She was getting fussy in the car waiting so I decided to take her on a little stroll.” You moved her down to your arms, cradling her into your chest.
“Would it have killed you to answer the phone at least?” Dean sighed as the rate of his heart finally matched his breathing.
“Sorry my phone died.” You knew your husband would be worrying about you but by the time you thought to call, you phone screen turned black with a red battery sign on.
“That’s okay just- I don’t know, shoot a flare gun or something just please don’t leave without telling me.”
“I won’t.” You smiled. He in return left a soft kiss to your check and a butterfly kiss to your daughter. She smiled at her father’s touch, making you both smile back; hearts so full with love, before the moment was ruined.
“So I have a niece?”
“No you have a pet goldfish, suprise!” Dean sparkled his hands around annoyingly, if he had known picking up his brother would be this tiring he might have just let Sam be stuck in his cob web filled books. . “How the hell you got into Stanford is beyond me.”
“That’s enough Dean,” you snickered as your husband rolled his eyes. “I think it’s nice to see you again Sam, although on different circumstances would have been nice.” You walked towards the impala, Dean already opened the back door for you as you hopped in with your little princess.
“Wow I just- I never took you as a father figure,” Sam looked down shocked, “I mean I didn’t even see you as one to settle down - no offense Y/n.”
“Umm very much taken Samuel.” You had been dating Dean since you both were 15, so to say he wouldn’t stick around after the shit show of high school was highly offensive.
“Everyone buckle up,” Dean readjusted his review mirror starring at you, as you buckled in your seven month old daughter. His whole life in the back of his car.
Sam clipped in his seatbelt, “Soooo am I going to have to interrogate the baby for answers orrr..”
“This is going to be a long car ride.” You smiled as Dean groaned.
“Well it all started when…”
237 notes · View notes
fallstaticexit · 3 months ago
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Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort
AN: Just so no one is confused, I turned Summer Holiday into an official Landgraab. I needed another legendary blonde to play as Nancy’s yapping bougie cousin (her father’s niece) and she was casted immediately.
Transcript under the cut
Malcolm: [wails]
Geoffrey: [grumbles] I got ‘em.
Nancy: [yawns] I’ll get him. Need to feed him.
Geoffrey: [murmurs] Won’t fight you for it, dear.
Nancy: [snorts] Oh, I bet.
Nancy Narrates: [Malcolm was the polar opposite of Jonathan in every way. He cried relentlessly through the night. He could never keep anything down. His tiny body always wound so tightly]
Nancy: Ok, Malcolm. What would it take to for you to allow me one full night of sleep? That’s all I ask.
Malcolm: [grunts, hiccups]
Nancy: [softly] Oh, come on. What could possibly be so bad that you must cry like this?
Nancy Narrates: [Most nights, I cried with him, fearing he inherited my melancholy]
Malcolm: [whimpers softly]
Nancy: [sniffs] There. See? Calm. Easy. I know that’s asking alot, coming from me. We’ll get through this, together-
Jonathan: Mommy wahhh!
Malcolm: [cries]
Nancy: [sighs]
Nancy Narrates: [There was no time for tears, when they needed me to be stronger than that]
-
Malcolm: [babbles]
Nancy: [gasps] Are you happy? Are you smiling at me?
Malcolm: [coos]
Nancy Narrates: [As I learned more about Malcolm, I began to notice just how alike we were. The same curious and thoughtful nature that was in his eyes was in mine too ]
Nancy: You’re so beautiful. Geoffrey, look! Malcolm is smiling!
Geoffrey: Of course he is! He loves looking at you. See, Nance? Things just take time. You’re doing great.
-
Nancy Narrates: [And as I learned more about my sons, I was beginning to feel like I could be a mother they deserved]
Malcolm: [coos]
Jonathan: Hi Mommy!
-
Summer: It’s so good to see you, cousin! You’ve been such a shut-in lately! And wow, you look amazing for having had two kids. Although... If you ever want a referral to my guy down in Del Sol Valley, he does wonders. You’d never believe I had a cesarean.
Nancy: Thank you, but I want to avoid going under the knife. I know that’s all the rave now.
Summer: Good for you, hon! Wow, he sure has a set of lungs on him!
Nancy: [sheepishly] He prefers me to hold him, it’s why I haven’t hired a nanny for the boys yet.
Summer: Not many women in your position take such attentive care of their children as you do, cuz. It’s admirable. I think you’re doing a wonderful job.
Nancy: You really think so?
Summer: Oh, of course! Look at me, for example. I’m the definition of a great mother. I raise my boys to be model citizens while my husband runs his own law firm.
Summer: If there was anyone that understands the sacrifices of being a mother, it’s me, Nancy. Landgraab women are built for it, believe it or not.
Nancy: I suppose that’s hard to believe at times considering my mother-
Summer: Oh. Well, Aunt Queenie isn’t a true Landgraab now, is she? She probably wishes she were you, Nancy.
Nancy: What?
Summer: You can’t compare a common woman who married into wealth to born royalty, cuz. Just saying.
Collin: Mom! Taylor pushed me in the mud!!
Taylor: I did not! He FELL!
Collin: No, you pushed me, dickhead!
Taylor: You’re the dickhead, loser!
Collin: SHUT THE HELL UP!
Summer: Ugh! The both of you, zip it! Maria! Maria!! The twins, por favor!
Summer: Summer: My god, I have to do everything! Nance, trust me, motherhood is a thankless job. It really is. My boys would be lost without me, you hear me? Yours are so lucky to have you. Nancy?
Nancy: [inhales sharply]
Nancy Narrates: [Don’t. Please don’t. I’ve worked so hard-]
Summer: [snaps fingers] Hello? Please clean this filthy child, Maria! Rápido! Anyway, what were we talking about?
-
[giggling]
Geoffrey: Then, the big dinosaur came and gobbled up all the little dinosaurs with his big, nasty dinosaurs teeth! Chomp chomp chomp!
Malcolm: [squeals]
Jonathan: He eat all of them, daddy?!
Geoffrey: Every. Single. Last. One!
Geoffrey: But then, the even bigger dinosaur came and ate him!
Malcolm: [gasps]
Jonathan: And then I eat him, Malcolm!
Malcolm: [giggles] Me too!
Geoffrey: Hey, save some dinosaurs for daddy!
Malcolm: Mama! Mama!
Jonathan: Hi Mommy! [whispers] Mommy can eat dinosaurs too, right? Even though she’s a girl?
Geoffrey: Everyone can eat them, especially mommies. [laughs] Hey, Nance. Rough night, huh? Come to bed. I’ll read another story.
Jonathan & Malcolm: YAY!
Nancy: What will you read us?
Geoffrey: How about I tell the story of the handsome king and his beautiful queen and their two silly, little princes?
Nancy: Does this story have a happy ending?
Geoffrey: [grins] It sure does.
290 notes · View notes
bunnyteetharry · 1 year ago
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When you know, you know
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summary: y/n was always scared to end up like her parents and harry changed that for her
warnings: none?
pairing: husband!arry x wife!reader
Inspo from this tiktok
————⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆ —————⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆ —————⋆ ˚。⋆
Ever since she was younger
Y/n has always been afraid of who she will end up with at the end, she didn’t always think this way. It started when she suddenly started to wake up to screaming, or when one of her parents would set her aside and talk badly about the other.
Even before, she’s never seen them do something or say something nice about the other
You always questioned if they truly loved each other once upon a time or they just stayed to stay
Once her parents had gotten the divorce, that’s when the fear got worse, she wanted to love and be loved by someone like she read in the books
She wanted to feel how obsessed you can be with someone when you deeply love them
Not having to worry about the worse
It’s not she didn’t know that not every relationship if perfect from how she witnessed her parents relationship.
She just wished and hoped too much that it got in the way of finding someone
That’s until she met Harry
He was a breathe of fresh air, it was the first time she let go of her worries and just let things happen without a second thought
It’s cliche but, somehow she knew it was going to be him since their second date, but she wouldn’t dare to tell Harry that due to how inflamed his ego would get
But when it really, truly hit her, they had been together for 5 years and had just married
They were in the backyard with a group of their friends just hanging out and catching up with each other from the busy week
She was leaned over the outdoor bar talking with her longterm friend Gracie and her husband was sitting across from them with Harry in the middle of the year on the lounge chairs with others as well
They were talking about how they’ve never seen Harry drink or smoke or bitterly anything that came to his as an obsession
“So?” Michael itched on “So what?” Harry smiled as he took a sip of his water “What are you obsessed with then, there has to be something that you crave”
He thought for a second before smiling and pointing towards Y/n and said “The only thing I’ve ever been addicted to is that one right there”
At that moment y/n felt her chest fill, trying so hard not to tear up and pretend she didn’t hear him, Harry had always had a hard time expressing his feelings so him saying things like that, especially infant of people, brought her so much warmth inside.
Once everyone had gathered inside, they were the only two left
Margaret by Lana del Rey was playing softly in the background as they swayed slowly
“I love you” she whispered gently against his lips, he smiled and pulled her closer to him “Do you now” he rubbed his nose against her cheek “You’re annoying” y/n gently pushed him away before he pulled her back in “I love you more baby” he mumbled against her lips, kissing her softly.
a/n: sobbed for hours after watching that tiktok I had to write something about it, kinda based on me (ish), but anyways enjoy!
662 notes · View notes
ybklix · 4 months ago
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homewrecker!
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part one / PART TWO ★ pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader x lee minho
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✦summary: The game was fun, the secretive game of an affair with an older man using you as their toy in the hot and bright summer, so everything was perfect until someone decided to lose, involving feelings.
♡ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, bit angst, dilf hyunjin & minho, softdom!hyunjin, dom!minho, cheating, age gap, handjob, oral sex, rope play, daddy kink, pet names, unprotected sex, creampies, deepthroat, protected piv, fingering, sex toys, gaslighting ?
₊ ⊹ word count: 16.6k
masterlist - taglist ⭑.ᐟ
playlist: sad girl by lana del rey ♡ is there someone else? by the weekend ♡ criminal by fiona apple ♡ the other woman by lana del rey ♡ cry baby by the neighbourhood ♡ illicit affairs by taylor swift ♡ say my name/cry me a river by the neighbourhood
divider by roseraris
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It started as something simple at first, the idea of having you went to Hyunjin’s head and suddenly he couldn’t stop, his big problem was that he fell in love too fast. All his life the only woman he treated especially was his wife, after her no one caught his attention beyond just knowing their names and being merely kind and humanitarian until you came along. Suddenly his whole perfectly ordered life changed completely. You recognized that Hyunjin had a beautiful heart, leaving aside the fact that he cheated on his wife and it was absolutely an unforgivable act among many other misfortunes, but he was cute, kind, cared about you, showered you with expensive things, was quite the gentleman, after all he was older than you, had more experience, delighted you with so many pleasurable emotions, long panting nights and the most divine sex you could ever have, yet he was on the same level with Minho, as you could not choose with whom you liked to do it more.
You really believed that your situation with Hyunjin would be a one-time thing, something so exclusive and unique, an unforgettable experience, which it was, sex with him was like you had never experienced before, your first time was so desperate but sweet, as if both of your bodies were eager to meet, to collapse and have each other. When you ended it, you even got sad, not because of guilt, but because of the fact that maybe that could be the first and last time you would have Hyunjin, yet he took care to make it more than clear to you that he didn’t want it to be a one-time thing, subtly letting you know it between shy flirtations every time you had alone time at your sister’s house.
You never thought that, what you assumed to be a quiet summer at your sister’s husband’s house with her little stepson, would be for you a series of hot, fortuitous and indecent encounters with two married men. You were so amazed, you felt on fire every time you dressed up to see yourself with one of them, so secretly and vulgarly. And all thanks to the incredible rush of desire that filled your body, making you give oral sex to someone you should have never even seen in the first place. And you had to admit that at first you found it very hard not to fall in love with a man like Hyunjin, he had it all and was absolutely someone worth your time to meet, he was so soft spoken, his conversations were interesting, he had such a shy, tender and naive personality but something about him exuded so much confidence, it drove you crazy, he knew what he was capable of, he knew he was still young, just a little older than you, and he was in all his abilities to make you feel so good.
And after countless nights of incredible sex, little by little you sensed a feeling that you were forced to put aside, you were getting attached to Hyunjin and he was getting attached to you. It was impossible not to. You still remembered your first meeting, in that luxurious room, making you feel like a first class prostitute in a way since there was no one to fool, more than the rest of the world, you were about to have sex with Hwang Hyunjin, a married man you just met but you couldn’t avoid the immense sensations that suddenly tormented your body.
Hyunjin was out of his mind every time he was with you, as if he was a new person, he knew how incredibly wrong he was, but he wanted to have you and taste you entirely, he wanted to satisfy himself as much as he had never felt before.
You saw his adorable smile, a whole series of problems were triggered from there, he said, “I rented this room to be more comfortable, I hope you don’t mind.”
It was a freaking penthouse. You toured the place with your eyes, breathless. Of course you were fine, you were about to fuck in a king size bed with an attractive, interesting man and not in a small college dorm room with a guy your age who was almost behind in all his classes.
You were slightly nervous and smiled back at him, moving closer to him and hugging his abdomen. Hyunjin became a little nervous at your touch and you found his reaction so cute. You raised your eyes to look at him.
“That’s very nice, thank you.”
You thought the room would be a one night thing, just like that first time, but later you realized that he had rented it for a while just for your encounters, leaving you speechless.
“I want to do all the right things for you” he confessed, so sincere, caressing your face between his big hand.
The irony in doing the supposedly right thing with you by doing everything wrong. Whenever Hyunjin was with you there was no one else, he let you practice with him absolutely everything, as he knew he would take great pleasure anyway.
“I can’t wait to see it... all the good things” you replied, your cheeks growing warmer and warmer, “I think you still owe me something.”
“Ahh, yes” he replied, settling his body more comfortably between your arms and sticking closer to you, now holding your face with two of his hands, “About that…”
His hands were so warm, and the rings decorating his fingers were still the same temperature, both of you were already warm despite the cold atmosphere of the apartment and you saw his appetizing lips and handsome face move closer to you, trapping you in a kiss, the sensation descending from your mouth to your stomach, causing a tingle you had not felt in years. It felt so good. You closed your eyes, enjoying every soft rose of his plumpy lips colliding with yours, you were entering that zone so hastily, heating up your body more and wanting to get naked instantly.
Everything was sweet and tender until he gradually toned up, playing with you and introducing more of his tongue, doing it with a passion like you had never been kissed before. You were getting restless, Hyunjin knew so well what he was doing that you even felt like a first-timer at kissing, something as banal as kissing suddenly became the best sensation. You had never been touched like that, you were getting more and more excited; his soft nose caressing your face, the edges of his glasses touching your face and the play of breaths between hot and wet kisses, neither of you wanted to separate from the other, each kiss was better than the previous one, his lip control and strong jaw sent shocks and pleasurable pangs in every part of your body. You were so lost in him.
Separating slightly only for lack of air, you noticed an excited Hyunjin, leaving for a second his sweet and tender look that he always brought behind his glasses, appearing a darker and of desire under his straight and thick eyebrows, you wanted to fall before him, you were so surrendered that you couldn’t stand it anymore, you watched his chest rise and fall with intensity and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something so he did:
“Are you going to let me reward you tonight? You were really great that time, baby.”
His voice and warm breath heated every part of you, the way he moved his full lips as he spoke… you really were jealous that he wasn’t yours, wanting to show the world that he was the one man who made you so happy… and you hadn’t even fucked him, yet at that moment.
You nodded at his question, with a mischievous smile and looking him straight in the eyes and with your pupils dilated as if you were at the peak of some drug that was driving you to the clouds.
Hyunjin moved his hands down from your face to your ass, massaging and squeezing it, lifting your tight skirt up your body, finding his hand with your skin and the fabric of your panties since you weren’t wearing anything underneath but your underwear; he licked his lips, drawing you more and more into his body and you quickly got the idea to keep pleasuring him just like the first and last time you had him, at that time.
Your restless and slightly trembling hands reached for his belt, he noticed your intentions quickly and looked at you expectantly doing so raising his thick eyebrow slightly. You lowered your gaze to his already noticeable erection which surprised you every time, for your second time with him, you were still not used to the speed at which a handsome man like him reacts to you so quickly, getting aroused immediately, it seemed like a dream, one in which only you and he existed. Your pussy and heart were pounding, you wanted to have him already, just for you, moaning pleasurably in his manly voice about how much he was enjoying being with you in something so forbidden and improper. Seeing him finally, you were also unaccustomed to the large, protruding bulge, again projecting in your mind the image of his well-endowed penis and remembering the feel of his stiff, delicious cock in your mouth entwined on your tongue, your mouth salivated and every part of you reacted anxiously again mind. Hyunjin wouldn’t let that smug smile off his face, he was so engrossed in your face and your hands struggling with removing his belt, once you succeeded, you stroked his erection between his pants, rubbing your palm hard on it, to which Hyunjin reacted by closing his eyes in pleasure and biting his lip trying to hide the desperate desire he had to use his cock and stimulate it all over you, but he resisted, letting himself go and running his tongue around his cavity, mischievously once you unbuttoned the button of his pants and tentatively slipped your hand inside it to caress his member further.
“You want to taste me again, don’t you, my pretty little doll?”
You looked into his eyes again, the sweet tone in which he spoke had awakened in you even more desire. You lowered your gaze again, his huge bulge bulging in his open zipper, tight against the soft black fabric of his underwear, you thought of nothing else but the incredibly sweet and handsome Hwang Hyunjin, so willing to you with his super big boy-making machine, the thought of his cum in you drove you crazy and turned you on even more. You nodded once more at his response, impatient to do so and unable to speak, you didn’t know what to say, you wanted no other sound in the room but his own manly sounds of pleasure and heavy breaths.
“Did you really like it last time?” he said again, still in a smug tone and taking your chin gently to look into your eyes.
His gaze was darker than the last time you saw them until just seconds ago, his sweet countenance was slowly fading, watching you with pure desire; Hyunjin couldn’t remember the last time he felt absolutely absorbed by sex, with his heart outside his chest, all of him so tense, so rigid and able to fuck for hours, it was as if all his discharge was about to be released, all the unsatisfied nights about to be fulfilled in such a dirty fantasy and taking it out on you.
“Y-yes” you replied, almost breathless and slightly embarrassed that it came out that way.
Hyunjin didn’t resist, finding your response so adorable, your big eyes begging for sex and every detail of you unhinged him in seconds, moving closer to you and kissing you again, slowly catching your lips, gently, softly, still holding your face as his tongue slid nimbly into you, so artfully caressing his tongue with yours, never leaving the feel of his fleshy lips on yours, he kissed so well, you had never paid attention to the details of a good kiss until being touched by him, it was as if you had only kissed out of commitment, because it's like an automatic thing where things worked but you had never stopped to think about how much you enjoyed it, when it was being well executed, each shy but bold movement of his mouth was perfect.
The sound of both mouths colliding made you pleasantly restless. The seconds turned into long minutes as you were desperate to feel it. His other hand was resting comfortably on your lower back, and as he pulled away, you noticed his lips glistening at you.
“Then do exactly what you would like to do, princess.”
He was splendidly ecstatic and you were barely touching his erection on the fabric of his boxer briefs, but he was more than sure of the incredible and delicious experience that was about to take place and how he was going to feel.
You were desperate yet you shyly pulled his cock out of his underwear, stroking it and still looking into his eyes just the way he liked it, you began to stroke him thoroughly, masturbating him with both your hands on his pulsating organ full of energy and load to be discharged, ready to be used, you felt his exposed length, his uncovered skin so intimately being caressed by you, taking it from his glans, stroking it gently all the way down the rest of his cock, pulling and touching everything in its path as you witnessed the inevitable pleasure Hyunjin was receiving, making sweet moans of satisfaction.
Your pussy reacted harder, you needed him now as you had never needed someone before, the sensations were getting more and more intense, you bit your lip, imagining desirously the feeling of his cock filling every inch of you, but you wanted to suck him at the same time, you didn’t know what was happening to you, it was like you were ovulating but 10 times worse, maybe it was just the fact of having Hwang Hyunjin that made you like this. On the other hand, you could notice how he was willing to do all that for you…. he was letting himself be touched by you, he was on the verge of collapse, being so stimulated but it was a painfully pleasant delight, his mind was working on his triggered hormones that were taking care of his libido and arousal, but at the same time that smart, mature brain was thinking from time to time how bad that was, how much he had to stop just now… but he was already doing it, the infidelity and sin were already committed, he had already acted impulsively by renting a place to sin and commit atrocious acts behind everyone’s back… why would he stop right now if you were an extremely attractive young girl willing to please him and work on the pleasure of both, Hyunjin was in his never-ending internal war, that’s why the process was painful but extremely hot.
You could feel his needy expression, his tongue running over his lips, it was making you hotter the fact that you had that version of him, a poor and defenseless man in need of sex, looking for an easy way to free himself, it was very clear to you how easy and naive you were acting, besides wrong and inappropriate in every way but honestly you didn’t care, at the end of the day you would seek your pleasure and you would not finish until you were completely satisfied, it was going to be an unforgettable night for you, your hand was already on his cock, you already had the man yielded and surrendered to you with his soft expression on his face while you were already starting to get on your knees without wasting any time.
You slightly pulled down his clothes to finally see completely what you were about to entertain yourself with for a very sweet time and saw for a second his erect member move gracefully as you let go of holding it for a moment, to later hold it again and finally bring it closer to your mouth while every part of your body throbbed in excitement like you had never done before, this time it was stronger than that time at your sister’s house and less risky, because while the adrenaline and risk of being discovered that time did not compare to the comforting feeling of being absolutely alone without being interrupted and that after oral sex you could simply go on and on, or so you hoped, Hyunjin was so fucking eager and full of energy to continue as many rounds as necessary because just now there seemed to be no end to it.
You stuck out your tongue to slowly savor his length, playing with his tip, making smooth little circles on it, playing with your saliva and his precum, making him shudder and moan in between gasps, Hyunjin was in paradise right now, at least in the sinful and tentative pleasure filled paradise, the sensations filled his body, traveling from his sensitive cock being stimulated and spreading down his abdomen until they reached every corner of him, bristling every hair on his body, the idea of having another woman other than his wife filled him with such inexplicable pleasure, the idea of something forbidden filled his veins completely, it had been a long time since he had been sexually pleasured, no one had been given the task of satisfying him with such patience and tranquility as you were doing just now, taking your time licking his entire length, playing with the rest of his cock, with the feel of his skin in your hand, with your mouth taking it completely and caressing the softness of your cheeks and lips. He was crazy.
You felt that tickle in your nose as it stretched from trying to open your whole mouth so you could take his erection completely, you were already being so weak in your first seconds, tearing from your eyes, crying from your sensitive genitals desperate for action, still you found your rhythm, moving your head all over his cock in a perfect bobbing motion that made the poor needy body of that man whose mistress you turned into, slowly suffer, slowly bringing him to his orgasm. You had your fun, looking into his eyes with his manhood in your mouth filling every part of your cavity, drooling at the satisfaction of both of you and flooding the place with his gasps.
Hyunjin was a bit noisy, you thought, and you complained absolutely nothing, his moans motivated you more and more, you wanted to see him cum, you wanted to make your little mess with his cum in you, you needed it, you were so desperate to have something from him as sadly deep down you believed and recognized that it was the only thing you could get from him or someone like him, his countless sleepless nights of pleasure and eroticism.
He held your hair, gently guiding and pushing from your head as he grunted so close to his orgasm for you, he was sorry, he wanted to stop, to tell you to stop so you could let him use your pussy and start fucking you… as he feared he could never be this erect again with that same fucking Viagra quality intensity. Instead, Hyunjin started babbling, letting himself be carried away by your warm tongue and mouth taking care of something so intimate to him. Finally he threw his head back cumming in exasperation as you felt the intensity of his sex throbbing and like a good girl you waited for all his discharge on your tongue.
Hyunjin saw in a blur, he was in heaven but it still didn’t compare to the image he would have of you on your knees, surrendered to him, so he went back to his position to watch the scene of his cock collapsing and spilling all of him on your restless tongue, reaching his orgasm.
When he finished and you swallowed it all quietly, you stood up again and stared at him. You were so excited and desperate that if he touched you suddenly you could fall into a thousand pieces. You were a little bomb about to explode. Hyunjin caressed your cheek as he saw your piercing dark gaze, he couldn’t resist any longer and it was as if his fear had never happened, he became erect and hard again at his unstoppable imagination and desire to have you.
He took it upon himself to delicately clean around your mouth stained in his white semen and the small mess combined with your saliva, running his thumb over your skin to then move closer and kiss you, tasting himself, witnessing what he was capable of on that very night.
His kisses trailed down as he gently held you by your neck, you were being seduced by his gentle movements until he slowly made you get undressed, lifting your blouse and removing your bra; you had absolutely no problem with him seeing you naked, you wanted to be so vulnerable for him if only for one night. Hyunjin played with your breasts for a while, he licked and sucked your nipples until he left them sensitive while you tried not to moan so loudly, once he left your sensitive skin slightly red as a sign of being well stimulated, he smiled arrogantly, and kept lowering his mouth and warm breath that before you knew it, he was already squatting, doing exactly the same process you did with him, pulling down your skirt and panties, taking with his fleshy lips all over your pussy, kissing your mons pubis and focusing on your clit, sucking on it. You lowered your gaze, trembling and moaning to find the sweet scene of his nose colliding with the skin of your pubis, his soft black hair and his mouth trying more and more to take you completely.
Hyunjin smiled at the feel of your throbbing sex on his tongue and wanted to eat you whole, but once again he was so desperate that he wanted only to make sure how very wet and ready you were to finally get his cock ready for you. But you held on to him, getting weaker and weaker and moaning louder and louder as his tongue skillfully traced strokes through your slick, stretching more of his muscle to encompass more of you, you felt the vibration of his insides as he was savoring and tasting you completely, his whole body filled with pleasure as he tasted again the very sweet and young womanhood, to which in the process of his complete relishing, he hummed in pleasure.
Suddenly you felt the softness of his fingertips playing with your entrance, by then you knew exactly what was waiting for you, so you closed your eyes and bit your lip letting yourself go, letting that married man insert two of his fingers into you at your tight entrance because of your standing position, a gasp escaping from your lips, feeling the tension in your body grow but at the same time feeling a relief, as it was exactly what you wanted from the beginning, his long fingers sliding into you, knowing how to please you.
“Hy-yunjin” you moaned his name as you felt the tingling inside you deepening.
His fingers were long and of perfect girth, they went into you perfectly, suddenly you were full, with his mouth on your pussy and his fingers fucking you. He would part your folds with his free hand and every now and then he would stroke his sensitive cock as eating you stimulated him too much and feeling his fingers wrapped around you made him crazy, you didn’t think you could hold out that long, his tongue moved slow but his fingers were so fast and skillful they made your walls vibrate, it was a different rhythm but perfect, you were feeling so good, your nipples were getting hard and the knot in your stomach started to appear and when you were lubricating yourself more and more, moaning louder and louder, feeling orgasm near, Hyunjin withdrew his fingers from you leaving you feeling a huge emptiness for long and whining seconds, he also pulled his mouth away and laughed softly but in a teasing tone.
That was the first time he was 'spontaneous’ like that and the first time in all your encounters where he provoked you so much to the point of denying you an orgasm or stopping you from having one.
“Pretty doll, I think you’re ready to take me now, aren’t you, my good girl?” he said, still with his smile lifting his gaze and gently stroking your folds making you sigh.
You almost trembled at the sound of it. He was about to do it and it turned you on again. You nodded softly, lost in the desire in his dark brown eyes, your breath already heaving.
Hyunjin stood up again, staring at you as if to seize you, and kissed you passionately again, this time in a more desperate act and pushing your body gently until he guided you into the bedroom. Your eyes were closed, letting yourself be carried away by everything he was doing to you, but you felt him pull away from you and your legs bumped against the edge of the bed and as you fully opened your eyes you saw a restless Hyunjin gesturing for you to lie down on it.
You were impatient too, your whole vibrant body was, so agitated to finally commit the even greater sin. To top it off with the best.
He was so hot despite the pleasant temperature of the place that he was even slightly starting to sweat, so almost in a quick and reflex movement, you watched Hyunjin take off his buttoned shirt desperately, but doing it so nimbly with his long fingers and finally, you observed his lean and subtly worked body, his smooth shoulders and smooth muscular arms accompanied by noticeable veins. You slowly lay back on the bed, shyly spreading your legs as you watched his intimidating naked figure in front of you. His notorious, pink, long, and veiny cock, his smooth abs, you were at such an aroused point that every part of you was throbbing hard and you began to watch almost in slow motion Hyunjin’s steps to go to the nightstand, caress his well-foreplayed cock and put on a condom so latex-thin still letting you appreciate the details of rigid masculinity.
He was already more than ready because he knew that night you were going to be his only and when he finally approached you, the fear and excitement grew, you hadn’t thought it, but Hyunjin was huge. Every inch of his pumping sex lined up at your entrance, whose glistening, swollen pussy Hyunjin appreciated, running his fingers one last time in it to then take his cock.
His body moved closer to yours, your eyes couldn’t miss his long length but as you felt his warm, heaving breaths close, you sought to see his face.
“I’m gonna fuck your pretty pussy, fuck baby, is that alright?” he whispered licking his lips so lasciviously without even waiting for an answer as his tip was sliding into you.
His slim build over yours aroused you, his voice, his dirty little comment and the fact that he was already inserting himself inside altered every function of your brain. You nodded in desperation.
“Yes, Hyunjin, yes, please” you gasped as you squealed as his cock stretched your entrance.
You squealed as you felt your walls making room for his swollen cock and arched your back in desperation as you felt him deep inside you, letting out a choked moan. Fucking your pussy was a nice way of putting it, Hyunjin was slowly tearing you apart.
Hyunjin saw your naked body in a submissive position ready to receive his cock. He luridly watched his glans entering you, your little pussy stretching as more and more went in. He groaned too at the fluffy, soft feel of your insides, still struggling to adjust to his size. Somehow he was so fucking ecstatic and proud, to see you almost sobbing and the way your face reflected surprise, pain and pleasure was almost to him artistic. Wasn’t his cock all you’d been acting a little loopy about anyway? Now you had to take it so well. So he thought.
“I'm going to move, gorgeous, okay?”
Once again you nodded and Hyunjin took pity on you, leaving his beastly carnal desires behind and that night he almost made love to you. His thrusts were slow and deep, his whole body enjoyed being in sync and closeness with you. He breathed in your scent as he pounded your pussy and rejoiced in the sound of your skins colliding and your soft moans. You didn’t expect him to do it this way, but it felt so good, it tickled deep inside you and slid deliciously into your walls, Hyunjin had incredible control in his hips as you clung to his back and smelled the sweet scent of his long dark hair.
As you joined faces, you reflexively took off his glasses, appreciating his handsome masculine face, so defined, his slanted eyes, his plump pink lips… all while he kept on ramming you, you kissed him, you couldn’t help it, it was a dream, a man really fucking you for real, not doing it desperately in senseless and frantic movements. You really didn’t expect it, you thought he would take all his frustration out on you and use you like a rag doll but no, Hyunjin wasn’t like that, even with his mistress, and another woman, he was a real gentleman, looking out for your pleasure as well.
That night you saw stars like you had never seen before, you swooned under his body, you climaxed at such a high point. You wanted to do it every day, you wanted to kiss him and see his face when you woke up and when you slept, you were so crazy that you even suddenly wanted a life together with Hyunjin. But too bad for you.
Hyunjin cum in the condom still in you after rhythmic thrusts, rubbing his naked abdomen against yours. In a delicious grunt you were never going to forget.
But that was only the encounter of many and after that, Hyunjin would take you out on dates so as not to look so desperate or so bad that only the two of you would hang out at the hotel waiting for sex, for he was still a gentleman, an unfaithful one but one who knew how to treat a woman well.
     ⊹  ︶︶  ୨୧  ︶︶  ⊹ 
However, not everything was as sweet as Hyunjin’s artwork. You began to suspect the sweet feelings Hyunjin had for you after Minho started to suspect you had someone else, someone else to have fun having sex with and filling you to the fullest, which burned with jealousy in him, as he believed you were just his, his beautiful little toy that he took away from society 3 times a week and fucked her dumb. A possession and prize for him after pretending to be a perfect husband to someone whom he believed she was gradually ceasing to love.
In Minho’s own words, grabbing you roughly by the face with his hand to make you look him in the eyes, while he was teasing you with his hard cock between your folds about to enter you, “Why would I fuck you sweetly? If I wanted to do it that way then I fuck my wife. Look at you, you’re such a little slut, fucking a married man for pleasure, following him into the fucking woods, bad little girls like you deserve a lesson.”
Every cutting, insulting word from him shouldn’t have turned you on, but it did. Maybe you liked to suffer a little and perfectly balance Hyunjin’s sweet sex, with Minho’s rough treatment.
With Minho it was different, he went straight to you after the first time you fucked, asking you if you wanted to continue doing it with him to which you shyly answered yes, with a smug smile he took you to your sister’s house after leaving you completely fucked and shaken, still on cloud nine.
And the agreement was simple, 7 days a week and being married men with families, being absent every day in their homes would look too bad, so, life gave you one more chance to take advantage of such a risky situation. Both men could not see you on what they called a family Sunday, more so for Hyunjin who used to attend church, but for Minho it was a day when he, previously, used to have fun activities with his family, taking his wife and children to small trips, encouraging happy recollections and memories to his little son, besides that it used to be a day when his wife did not work, but everything had changed, even before fucking with you and being unfaithful, Suji was not available or enthusiastic to do those little activities, yet Minho took care of both of them children and took them to fun activities in the city or out of town on his own.
So, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were days dedicated to Hyunjin, and Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday were for Minho. You felt so bad, but so good, when you completed your first week of madness, getting pleasure from both sides every day, you were shocked at how fast your body was recovering and you were getting more and more ready and thirsty for more and more. You had a slight fear of ending up addicted to sex, but you couldn’t help it, you were so young and capable that you could just do it all the time, at least with them.
You didn’t know much about Minho, nor do you now. You didn’t know what his real intentions were beyond just sex but you were already riding in his car about to pull away from society at his cabin. He was so reserved and spoke very little, it was hard for him to get into trust with people but in your extra time, in the sweet time you treasure as your sweetest prized possession, are the memories of the little moments you spend with him after sex, where sometimes he turns tender, apologizes to you softly for being rough while whispering, among one of his things “Daddy is here to make you feel good”. The memories where he would invite you into his kitchen to join him and watch him cook as he slowly reveals details of his life.
Minho’s simplicity drove you crazy. His serious and mysterious countenance, but the fact that he is a simple man full of sexual appetite, willing to risk his life to spend a few hours with you… thrilled your naive and young heart.
The idea to go to the cabin was clearly his. At first, you found it strange but exciting. Minho had bought it to treasure it as something familiar, like a beach house, but this was more him, the Lee’s cabin. Minho bought it as a wedding gift in his third year with Suji, but she hated it slightly, claiming it was more a place for him than for her, as she was well settled and adapted to the city, the darkness of the forest at night terrified her and because of her busy job she couldn’t get out of the city that much. Minho expressed his dissatisfaction with his wife’s glamour and how it became exaggerated. Still, Suji spent some time with him there, then showed herself completely uninterested in accompanying him to what he only used to take his son to, walking him, taking him fishing, or camping.
You had so many questions, but you were saving every one of them. You didn’t want to say something that he would take it the wrong way and suddenly stop talking to you completely. One of the questions that was on your mind was… if Suji and he seemed so different, how could they even get married? Their goals seemed to be so different and every time Minho said something about her it seemed as if she hated him, but he ended up saying that’s just the way they were. The complications of marriage were so much for you, who had never fallen so hard for someone to fantasize about spending the rest of your life together with that person.
But sometimes… just sometimes, you tried to put yourself in their wives’ shoes. And you had to admit that you were a soulless fucking son of a bitch. You suffered nothing. You didn’t bear the pain or responsibility of carrying their children. You were just being “rewarded”, god knows - even if you weren’t the most religious - how much you might have to pay later for the consequences of your actions.
There was a big discrepancy between Minho and Hyunjin, but you couldn’t deny that Hyunjin let you learn so much from him, as he was always the first, and he was the first in everything, or at least in your hot and fierce encounters as you used to start your week with a full dose of him. He would let you explore his body and yours, he would let you know how exactly he liked things and where exactly he felt the most excitement; he was so sweet and it was all about effective communication to result in the most delicious pleasure for both of you.
Hyunjin would show you how to move, whispering softly and encouraging you, which made you so horny and flushed in the face from how much you were enjoying it. He would guide your hands and body where to touch, your mouth what to taste, suck, lick, and nibble subtly; skills you would later put into practice with Minho and exasperated amidst the delight of sexual activity he would babble to you, “Fuck, kitten, where did you learn that from? You do it so well.” You were more than happy to be Hyunjin’s star student.
Minho, despite being cold and distant, his intentions with you did not go beyond those attitudes, he was with you for his continuous battle of hormones and thoughts, to release in you all his pent-up frustration, but he was careful with what he did since unlike Hyunjin, Minho didn’t dare to take you out in the daylight in the city, so better both of you would step aside to enjoy your moment alone, he would take you to the small town near his home in the woods where people rarely knew him and give you the most pleasurably steamy sex.
It wasn’t something he always did in every one of your encounters but Minho liked to tie your hands, to restrict your movement as he watched your fucked face crying for more and more. So it was something he did, sometimes he dressed you in nice lingerie so he could cum on the thin pieces of cloth that minimally covered your body, or sometimes he left you absolutely naked, ordering you to stand still without moving and putting your hands back while he tightly bound your wrists in a skill he had with knots.
You moaned at the sensation of the rope squeezing and rubbing your skin as you were uncontrollably aroused. You couldn’t help it, you were slightly familiar with rope play, when certain toys were used for sex, domination, fetishes to call it a certain way, among other things, but you had never experienced it, no one had ever been so creative and open with you sexually. Until you met Minho, a very peculiar man who hid all his desires under an attractive and demure image of a simple family man. He came up to you and kissed you passionately, you enjoyed every second of it as he rarely kissed you and you felt that he had to be the one to come up and do it. You were even left wanting to feel more of his lips, innocently seeking his touch as you reached out a little for your neck once he was slowly pulling away from you, making him smile at your act.
Minho made you call him daddy when you were having sex, to obey him and now he was tying your wrists together as he put his warm hand on your shoulder gently pushing you onto the bed once he finished tying you up, making you face down.
Minho prepared the sex toy he was going to use on you, filling you with lust using your young body for his experimentation and pleasure. You watched him take a vibrator in his hand and position himself on his knees on the bed beside your naked, tied up body.
You were so fucking aroused, your pussy slick, and your heavy breathing pressing against your chest against the bed.
“Did you buy it for me, daddy?”
Talking to him like that turned him on so badly, and it seemed so dirty to you that you liked to play along.
“Of course I did, little girl. You know how much I love to play with my pretty doll.”
Minho smiled, mischievously. You observed his complexion and the large erection trapped in his pants. You bit your lip. You were beginning to lose your sanity and he still hadn‘t touched you. Until he did, pulling your legs apart and starting to run his fingers through your slick, reaching down to your sensitive spot and making you weak from his lightest touch.
“Oh, kitten, why are you so wet already? If daddy just started touching you… Tell me what you were thinking, pretty girl” Minho whispered the last sentence, pushing the loose hair away from your face so you could get a better look.
The strokes of his fingers on you became more consistent, making you moan audibly.
“About… you, daddy.”
“About me how?” he blinked with sudden fake innocence as he suddenly pinched your clit, causing you to flex your legs in response.
You looked straight into his big brown eyes, you didn’t understand how such a sweet look was wanting to torture you a little.
“About how you touch me…”
“Ahh, I see” he spoke, almost downplaying your comment, “You like it when I make you feel good?”
Minho rubbed his fingers all over your labia spreading your slick fluids one last time and massaged your ass before taking the bright pink toy.
“Come here, turn around, kitten” he ordered you softly.
Minho took you tightly by the shoulders without hurting you and with a little help from you, you turned your body, leaving your hands slightly uncomfortable behind on your lower back, with your body on top of your arms. You watched him take the vibrator and turn it on.
“Open you legs, sweetie.”
You swallowed nervously and obeyed him, giving him the full view of your exposed vulva. Minho smiled mischievously again at the sight of your exposed, glistening genitals.
“You’re so pretty, my doll” he commented in a raspy voice.
You bit your lip as you watched Minho hold the device and bring it closer to your entrance, he licked his lips as he gently inserted it, watching the chunky but small object slide easily inside you, as you instantly felt every stimulation on your walls and he settled the rest of the toy between your folds to leave another part of the device on your clit. You gasped loudly, the vibrations were so intense encompassing every part of you.
“Did I put it in you right, honey?” he asked softly to which you awed at his concern.
You nodded, trying not to squeal in excitement, but it was in vain, your walls and clit were vibrating non-stop, you were building your arousal slowly, tensing every part of your body, from your still arms under your body to your restless legs twitching at the pleasure.
Every muscle in you suddenly felt so stiff and the intimidating image of Minho were not helping you at all, you were being so ridiculously stimulated that you thought you would collapse at any moment, you were dripping in fluids, you felt them sliding into your labia majora, making a little mess on Minho’s sheet. You whimpered, building your orgasm closer and closer.
“Are you enjoying it, honey?” Minho brought his face close to yours, brushing the tip of his sharp nose with yours, “You have to tell me when you’re about to cum, okay?”
His eyes grew wide, watching you warningly and intimidating you.
“Yes, daddy” you whimpered.
You whined for yourself, the vibrator was filling your pussy and stimulating your clit and every inch of your vulva successfully, you raised your pelvis in desperation, the ties suddenly felt so infuriating. But Minho silenced your stifled moans in a savage kiss, playing with your hard nipples and squeezing your breasts. And moments later, you felt it, your fluids leaking out of you, your body getting more restless and feeling the tension in your muscles more intense, you were about to cum.
Minho felt the force of your collapsing body and pelvis twitching almost looking for a way out of the constant stimulation your body was under, so he pulled his lips away from yours and immediately when he did you whimpered:
“Daaddy, I’m abo-ut t…. please.”
You couldn’t even speak. You wanted release in your orgasm and from the bonds in your arms.
“Good girl. I think you’ve had enough for now.”
Minho pulled away from you and deftly removed the toy from inside you. Leaving you with every hair standing on end near your orgasm and an empty sensation, but still spasming from the vibrations. You moaned softly as the device slipped completely out of you and Minho tossed it already turned off to the side of the bed.
“Okay, up up up, kitten” Minho bit his inner lip, helping to support your body so you could sit up.
Once again, you let him help you, you were agitated and confused, about to cum with intensity that you weren’t thinking clearly what was next or what his next move might be, Minho tenderly caressed your face as you looked slightly tired and you knew immediately as soon as you saw his hands on the button of his jeans.
You came back to your senses as you saw Minho’s well erect and rigid cock pointed directly at your face.
He grabbed it almost from its base, to direct his glans to your face and spread his glistening precum on your lips.
“Come on, little girl, get daddy’s cock ready with your pretty little mouth before you take it. Open wide.”
You tasted his cock and Minho almost pushed it all in one gentle thrust leaving you breathless. You looked into his eyes, in a pleading way. Everything inside you burned with lust, every time you were with Minho you couldn’t help but feel like a little toy for the purpose of his own pleasure, it was almost as if you ceased to be human and desire consumed you completely.
Your eyes began to water, you were losing your breath, your stability and your mouth was dripping as the inside of your cheeks and palate remembered every vein of his thick cock gently entering your throat. Minho watched you expectantly, holding your jaw and the back of your head. He moaned at the sensation of your cavity surrounding his cock, the softness of your palate and the graze of your teeth as his length gradually filled your throat. The veins in his neck became present, he was truly enjoying it and when he felt he had touched a sweet spot in you, he began to move fucking your tight mouth and throat.
You cried out in desperation and moved your agitated torso, unable to hold onto his thighs because of your tied hands, he was in complete control of you. You felt your heart pounding intensely, shortening your breath.
Minho wiped away your tears, ramming you thirteen more times until he left your organ aching and pulled out of you, with a cocky grin. You breathed again.
“Lick it, kitten.”
He asked you, your jaw and throat were sore, but you did your best to run your tongue along his pumping length.
“You’re behaving so well, now face down again, pretty baby, get your little pussy ready for daddy.”
You were slightly exhausted but with every muscle in your pussy throbbing, you were so eager for an orgasm.
“Arch your back and lift your ass, good kitty.”
You did exactly his every command, with all your muscles tense, you couldn’t see anything, your cheek was glued to the bed but you perfectly felt his thick cock stretch your entrance as he sought to penetrate you.
You whimpered again, Minho exasperated relieved to have his hard cock between your walls, deep inside you, it was like his reward after a long day. He thought how good you felt and that all the sizzling foreplay was something he couldn’t do with his wife, but that’s what you were there for. To enjoy some very long lasting sex full of provocation.
Minho started ramming you deep and bestially, babbling almost furiously how much he was enjoying it, holding onto your hips, moving every inch of your insides in a wild pounding and bumping of skin on skin. You were so weak, if you could barely support yourself on your knees and arch your back properly.
“Don’t you love when daddy fucks you hard like a fucking slut, huh? Oh fuckkk, I’m gonna cum inside your pussy, baby.”
You moaned louder as you felt his deep thrusts and his warm cum spurt out of him inside you followed by his deep gasps and heavy breathing and unexpectedly, your walls squeezed his limb, finally releasing you in your long awaited orgasm. You were breathless. Full of…
“Full of daddy’s cum, my kitty” spoke Minho proudly, sliding his length from you.
You were tired, that you wanted to relax your back, but Minho’s hands kept holding your hips, to see the spectacle of your used and quivering orifice covered in his white cum. When he had filled with his dirty show and mark on you, he let your body fade away and untied your hands.
“Aren’t you perfect? You’re so young and sweet, you never seem to get filled.”
You felt the release and circulation of your upper limbs again. You smiled happily. You had enjoyed it too much.
Minho carried you lightly, turning your body again. You watched him lewdly again, you felt less submissive once you could use your hands and noticed how well erect his penis was again, he undressed his body quickly, bringing his strong frame close to yours.
You loved the difference between the two men, Hyunjin was leaner, but Minho had smooth and noticeable pecs and stronger arms. You were aroused again.
“Fuck, baby girl, I need you again” he moaned, stroking his cock and bringing his face close to yours.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, stroking his straight dark hair. You looked up at him, more boldly with a cocky grin.
“I need you too again, daddy. I want you to cum all over me.”
Sex with Minho was so dirty, rough, irresponsible and unapologetically.
But Minho’s perspectives and intentions changed completely once he began to suspect that you were hiding something, he felt it initially but tried not to take it importance, he knew there was a little secret in you of which he wasn’t entirely sure what it could be about, but he found out one Wednesday afternoon when he was so particularly needy and needed to take it out on someone of which that person was you. All that Wednesday he kept thinking about you, it had been a long and heavy day that, although he didn’t like to confess it that way, he urgently needed to be in your arms, he fantasized hard about what kind of activity and process he could control and subdue you, testing your pleasure and a little of your young body’s stamina, just as he loved it.
It was one evening, about to get dark while you were frantically making out with Hyunjin in his car facing some random alley, on your way when Hyunjin came to pick you up at one of your secret spots, a random library where you lied to your sister that you had to go for certain college supplies. You both couldn’t resist and he stopped the car to start kissing and touching you, almost to the point of starting to have sex there, you were enjoying it, the feeling of his desperate lips against yours and his restless hand seeking to stimulate your clit under your skirt, of which you had decided to play a little dirty today, not wearing underwear for your lover.
“Mmm, baby, please don't do this me… you're not wearing panties? Why…?” whispered Hyunjin drunk in your kisses, still with his eyes closed and near your lips, surprised not to feel any fabric covering your pussy, other than the soft skin of your public mound.
You smiled guiltily and felt his finger caress your clit. Hyunjin’s erection throbbed in the firm denim of his jeans. You couldn’t help it, you loved how incredibly big Hyunjin looked, without needing to be hard, so you stroked his bulge.
“You were all the time waiting for me with nothing under your skirt? You’re a very very bad girl…” he whispered again, catching your lips and grabbing your neck, nothing short of taking you and fucking you in his car.
The tension was growing more and more, his tongue was getting more and more naughty in your cavity… but to your bad luck, you forgot to silence your phone, so the thunderous sound of a message notification slowly drove you away.
First it was a message. You didn’t care but the sound became insistent. Hyunjin moved away from you slowly, returning to his place as a driver and moving his hand away under your skirt. You pouted.
Hyunjin closed his eyes deeply and shook his head, returning to his sanity of not being able to fuck you in broad daylight in an alley that was public road.
“You must answer, it seems to be important.”
“It’s nothing, I just forgot to put it on silent, Hyunjin, plea-” you leaned in again to kiss him, not taking your hand off his erection, but another notification sound interrupted you.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I can’t fuck you here anyway… Let me buy you some dinner first, okay?” he told you sweetly, taking the wheel and pulling your hand away from his cock and leaning over to give you a soft, tender kiss on the cheek.
You nodded resignedly, watching him sweetly and Hyunjin started the car. You took out your phone without a problem, but you almost turned pale when you read what it was about. 10 messages from Lee Minho. You looked at Hyunjin in fright, but he didn’t seem to notice your nervous expression as he kept driving so attractively and calmly.
You opened the chat with curiosity, that Minho was not usually so insistent.
Where are you? I want to see you Now Are you at chan’s house? I’ll pick you up Wear something nice😉 It’s gonna be a long night Why don’t you answer? I want to see you Can you today?
That day you answered him that you couldn’t. Minho called you instantly, but you ignored each of his calls, the next day was so bad for you, he wanted to know what you were doing, asking you like a normal person, but you lied slightly nervous that you had some night courses at the university and you couldn’t see him. But Minho still suspected something and that made him uneasy. He took the moment to spank you and remind you how available you must be whenever daddy needed you, but even with the hardest smack you couldn’t tell him you were with Hyunjin.
That Wednesday was also not particularly sweet for Hyunjin once he arrived home as nervousness and guilt consumed him like never before. Hyunjin was comfortably buttoning his loose silk pajamas, sitting on the edge of the bed ready to sleep, he had taken a long shower even though he had already done it at your apartment, but if he didn’t it would be suspicious since he was supposed to have come in extremely tired from overtime at his job where he had accepted a program where he educated newbies and stayed extra hours to plan the activities they could do… a lot of bullshit, he had the time of his life eating you whole and tasting every part of you. So in that intimate moment for him with the water pouring over his body, where he thought about you all the time even as he closed his eyes, all he saw was you, he was a mess because of you, you made him smile like a fool without realizing, that if he barely remembered he was about to sleep in the same bed with his wife.
But his smile was gently wiped off his face when he felt his wife hug him from behind, surprising him. Yeji felt the softness of Hyunjin’s pajamas and settled her face on his shoulder.
“You must be so tired… you work so hard, how many weeks has it been already since you’ve been staying late?” she spoke softly kissing his neck.
Instead of thinking about how many days he had been lying to her and dating you, he thought about when was the last time Yeji had come close to touching him, in a more daring way. Hyunjin knew her too well, knew the intentions of her hands caressing his chest and the tone in which she spoke.
He remained unresponsive to her. Still with so many thoughts suddenly, he had the slight feeling that even being his wife, her touching him felt so wrong.
“I have to tell you something I found out,” she said again.
Hyunjin’s body tensed as he recognized the seriousness in her tone and he turned his body to look at her, but he couldn’t meet her eyes.
Yeji had had such a peculiar afternoon and she had to tell her husband. Hyunjin saw her, her serious countenance suddenly formed a smile, confusing him.
“I didn’t want to tell you but… I went shopping today and the employees kept telling me if I wanted another pair… that you had already been there, shopping.”
Hyunjin’s heart stopped for a second. He was thankful that everything he gave you was a surprise gift and that he never took you to the stores, his guilty mind put together in seconds the scenario of his wife going shopping and the gossiping employees telling her that he usually takes another woman. Hyunjin got scared and reflected it softly on his face to which Yeji noticed it, so she ran her hand along his arm, innocently thinking that he got nervous after discovering a surprise for her.
“It’s okay, I’m very grateful, honey… but had second thoughts. You work too hard and we can save the money, I think the kids will need it more than I need another pair of fancy shoes.”
Hyunjin sketched a smile, his heart racing and feeling like the worst man in the world, like a criminal on trial pressed for his crimes. He watched his wife’s sweet smile.
“Ah, I see, so… do I return everything?” he replied nervously.
“I don’t want you to feel bad, honey, but it was seriously a lot of expensive stuff, I was impressed.”
And none of it was for her. Yeji approached him still with a smile. It seemed strange at first… but her brain connected the dots that her husband was so busy that he even stopped giving her his little details like the weekly bouquet of flowers he used to give her, so he wanted to reward her in an ostentatious way.
“It’s okay, darling I understand” Hyunjin answered her still agitated but relieved, trying to ignore her dangerous and seductive closeness.
“Although… the limited edition Versace bag? Really, baby? For me? There was only one in the country. Mmm, maybe I can keep just that one. Thanks.”
Hyunjin almost trembled, yes he had acquired it, but for you. He was about to give it to you for your date on Friday, but at least he would have a chance to give it to his wife and not look entirely like a villain. He let out a nervous smile, he had already imagined the sparkle in your eyes when you opened the gift, which now could no longer belong to you.
She moved closer to him, pressing a kiss to his unmoving lips as he didn’t reciprocate her first move.
“But… I haven’t seen any of those things here, where do you have them, huh, Hwang Hyunjin? Since when did you get so good at hiding things?”
The irony of her sentence made him flinch, he was so surprised and scared that he couldn’t react to the fact that his wife was doing her best to touch and provoke him.
“When was the last time you fucked me? I need you, Hyunjin” she whispered seductively in his ear, her arms around his shoulders.
“Yoojin is sleeping” he replied quickly like a robot, almost automatically, motionless, surprised and without even the slightest reaction to his wife’s soft kisses on his neck.
Hyunjin stared at his son’s crib unfazed by Yeji’s attempt at sex.
“Then we’ll be very quiet…” she whispered, panting and excited.
He let himself be carried away, feeling absolutely nothing and thinking about you, thinking about how he had to be more careful… or whether stopping seeing you would be the best option, he thought about the love he had for Yeji, about every single detail that kept him in love for more than 10 years… but why suddenly he couldn’t get you out of his head. Hyunjin knew it, he was falling in love with the wrong person.
Hyunjin dropped his body on the bed, his head on the pillows as Yeji settled on his cock and moving on it. But Hyunjin was so lost, his mind was gone and for some reason he couldn’t get hard.
“I love how big you are” moaned his wife as she felt his soft cock rubbing against her pussy.
Hyunjin thought with a smile at how often you used to tell him that too and how it boosted his ego. He continued to kiss her, following everything almost on automatic without the slightest feeling and after a while of constant motions, a frustrated and aroused Yeji moaned:
“Mmm…. Hyunjin, baby… why aren’t you getting hard? Don’t you want to… do it?”
Her sentence made him see her eyes for the first time, she sounded so disappointed and her small face reflected concern.
“You must be tired, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to force you…” she said again, stopping moving.
She was about to take herself off, but Hyunjin quickly grabbed her hips.
“Yes, I must be tired, but let’s try, honey. I need you.”
He lied, nothing about her was getting him aroused. So he psyched himself up, thinking of everything in order to get hard and the image of your young body couldn’t miss in his mind. It worked like magic, he was so erect all of a sudden that his wife smiled in satisfaction. She acted fast, pulling down the soft fabric of his pajamas and pushed aside the thin fabric of her panties, lifting up her silk nightgown and letting herself fall on her husband’s cock. Hyunjin let out a stifled moan as he suddenly felt her insides around his hard cock. And with all the pain in the world, he took his wife’s body, enjoying her movements on him, but fantasizing that it was about you. That it was you, being able to fuck him at any time without restraint.
Hyunjin cum in her after Yeji rode him just the way he liked it, in the most perfect way since she knew so well how to take his cock, Hyunjin had missed that so much… but sadly he was already consumed by something else that he almost came to gaspingly babbling your name.
She smiled, happy, still with his limb in her and gently collapsed her body on Hyunjin’s chest, feeling his heaving chest. Hyunjin began to stroke her hair, thinking and thinking about how much he shouldn’t have to think about you, why you couldn’t leave his mind for even a second. He was being consumed, this time he couldn’t even feel guilty, he was ceasing to be human, he thought.
“I didn’t know whether to tell you since he’s your friend, but…” Yeji started to speak softly, catching Hyunjin’s attention who had his forearm behind his head to rest on it and was looking up at the ceiling, gone, sex with her had been so different from how he remembered it, “Have you talked to Kim Seungmin lately?”
“Seungmin? No. What’s wrong?”
“Well, I have, I had because I decided to switch classes, a 23 year old yoga instructor, she started at 22 and was reserved and quiet, she was a nice girl but, apparently Seungmin and her are now in a relationship, which is fucked up because his wife was in that class and he used to drive her and pick her up. The girls and I assumed that they must have known each other there”
Hyunjin opened his eyes in fright and could only say “Ah…”
Yeji felt her husband’s chest vibrate as he spoke and instead of controlling his heartbeat, it seemed to speed up.
“Isn’t it fucked up? That little bitch, homewrecker. Anyways, Hayoon is heartbroken… I can’t even imagine, I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
“About…?” questioned Hyunjin, almost breaking out in a cold sweat.
“Infidelities. It’s just that they looked so happy, we went to their wedding, remember? How come they decide to leave everything for someone younger? At least they didn’t have kids. Like Chan and Sana and that girl…”
“Chan was divorced when he met Missy” Hyunjin quickly replied, almost defending him.
Yeji looked up, settling her head to look directly at Hyunjin.
“Yeah but, she never wanted a divorce in the first place, who assures you that he didn’t meet her while he was married… that makes me so uneasy.”
Hyunjin looked into her eyes again. He knew exactly that it affected her and had to distract her to make her divert her thoughts and not have even the slightest suspicion that he was unfaithful because he was very clear that he wasn’t going to let you go.
⊹  ︶︶  ୨୧  ︶︶  ⊹
Minho’s problem was that he was too curious and in his craziest thoughts came the idea that filled him with rage, that you had someone else, that cheating and lying was something so natural for you because of the circumstances in which he knew you; so Minho had two options for you, you saw a guy your age, or you saw Chan. Crazy, but his brain worked fast at the idea that Chan was an older, attractive man just as he was, plus you were often involved with him…. Minho could not believe the cynicism in your body if the theory that you were sleeping with Chan was true because, if Minho’s wife was a complete stranger to you… but Chan, Minho was not mentally ready to face the truth if the truth was that you did not feel even the slightest regret for cheating on your own sister. You would lose the respect he had for you if he ever confirmed it.
Minho acted fast that Friday, two days after slightly suspecting it, as he overthought in his house with his foot twitching nervously.
“Suho, don’t you want to visit Chase?” suddenly blurted Minho to his son, who tenderly colored something.
His big brown eyes lit up at the sound of his little friend’s name.
“Really daddy? Yes!”
And in quick strides, carrying Suho in his arms, Minho was already with a racing heart ringing his friend’s doorbell. He put Suho down and waited for an answer.
If you weren’t lying, you would be at the house, since you had awkwardly told him the day before that you wouldn’t be doing anything and that you wanted to spend time with Missy. Besides it was 6pm and it was very common for Chan to already be at home at that time… although he didn’t see his car anywhere.
Minho was… extremely alert to every detail. With his eyes wide open so as not to miss anything. He was acting impulsively but something in his gut told him something was up.
Missy attended, giving him a warm smile at the sight of her husband’s friend and his young son.
“Oh, Minho, Suho, hi.”
“Hey, Missy. Suho wanted to see Chase and… I have to go out for a moment, do you mind if…”
“Daddy but you told me if I could…” spoke Suho innocently about to reveal his father.
“Is Chase here?” interrupted Minho suddenly, gently holding his son’s small shoulders.
Missy looked at them strangely, but smiled.
“Sure, he can stay. Suho come on in, Chase and I were just watching a movie.”
“Okay! Bye daddy!” exclaimed the happy little guy, giving a little bow before almost running inside to find his friend.
Missy sketched a smile at Minho once they were alone face to face, she reacted quickly and felt she was being rude so she was going to invite him in but Minho, with his big eyes full of feigned innocence stepped forward.
“Seriously I hope it’s no bother, I have to go out for a while and Suho couldn’t accompany me. Suji went to her mother’s house with Minji.”
“Oh no, not at all. They are very well behaved kids” she smiled.
Minho returned her an automatic smile, raising his high cheekbones, noticeable for miles that it was fake. To which Missy noticed how strange his behavior was, but Chan used to tell her that’s how Minho used to be.
“But it shouldn’t be tiresome, your sister is here, right?”
Minho asked carefully, ready to hear an answer.
“Y/n? Oh no, lately she’s going to college for some summer courses she took at the last minute.”
Minho’s blood almost rushed out of his body. The lie. It was the lie. The excuse you used to say when you were seeing him… why would you use it another day? What were you hiding? Minho clenched his fist, it was starting to bother him that you were acting behind his back and more so if it was about what he already suspected.
“Oh really…?” he tried to hide his anger, “And Chan is here?”
“No” she made pursed her lips, ”He’ll be late because he has something from work.”
Minho gave a half smile, raising his eyebrows, incredulous at how crazy it sounded, neither of them were home, god that could only mean one thing to him and suddenly his body burned with fury.
“Ahm, are you sure I can leave the boys here with you?”
She smiled softly, “Of course, Mr….. L… Minho. They’re good kids, Chan will be here in a few hours.”
“And Y/n?” blurted out Minho suddenly to which Missy raised an eyebrow.
“She’s sleeping over at the college dorm.”
Minho nodded, desperate to act, “Okay, thanks, I’ll be back in a few hours for Suho.”
And just as she closed the door on him and he walked out of the Bahng’s property to go to his own and quickly grab his car, in an impulsive act he dialed Chan.
Every second of waiting was torture for him, until he picked up.
“Hey, mat-”
“Where are you now?” interrupted Minho.
It took for Chan two seconds to process his friend’s tone.
“Almost across town, working on a case. Do you want to meet us…?”
“Where exactly?” he interrupted again.
Minho licked his lips impatiently, his brow furrowed and his breathing warm and heavy.
Chan gave him the address somewhat quizzically, “Why? Is something wrong?”
Minho ignored him and thought about how long he could make it from his house to where Chan was.
“I’ll go over there.”
And Minho hung up, starting the car furiously with his hands clenching the steering wheel. He wanted to confront his friend first if it was true, he knew him, he would know when he was lying.
And on the way, he called you. Who you were getting ready for your date with Hyunjin at his apartment. You were comfortably putting on your makeup when you read the name of the contact and your breath shortened. You decided to answer out of curiosity, since Minho wasn’t calling you regularly, plus Hyunjin was taking a shower to get ready as well.
“Yes?” you answered nervously and hesitantly.
“Where are you now?”
You noticed the beaten and annoyed tone in his voice, giving you chills.
“I’m with some friends” you lied naturally.
Minho let out an airy chuckle in disbelief and scoffing.
“When are you done being with them? Or where are you, I want to see you.”
His words were so cutting somehow.
“I can’t today… I’ll sleep over with them…”
“Then you prefer your cute sleepover? Let’s see each other or I’ll end this, I want you now. Not tomorrow. Now.”
You blinked in confusion, trying to process his insistence, you were about to respond, you really couldn’t. Hyunjin had been planning this outing with you for a while now and you didn’t want to disappoint him or lie to him too much. And suddenly you saw him enter the room with a towel around his waist and his hair slightly wet.
“I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
And you hung up, ignoring him and smiling at Hyunjin. He looked so good, looking for his clothes half-naked with a white towel covering his penis, which part of his body was marked on the fabric. You could take him there right now, but you didn’t want to ruin your makeup and time was running out for both of you.
Yeji forgot everything as soon as he gave her the bag she wanted. That Friday Hyunjin had an art exhibition of some acquaintances, but at the same time it was his wife’s grandmother’s birthday, so like the tender woman she was, she told him he could attend the gallery and she would visit her family with the kids on the weekend. Hyunjin took the opportunity, inviting you, going incognito and under the facade of being a student working in his company that at the same time you were also persuading a position in art. So everything would be so secret, you couldn’t hold hands or kiss in public but one of the things that turned you on so much was doing it hidden from everyone.
Minho on the other hand cursed, feeling useless not being able to do anything more to see you. He kept calling you, but you kept ignoring him again, he wanted to teach you a very good lesson but in the meantime, he arrived at the place where Chan was. And there was no trace of you. Minho questioned him, gently implying that you were a very attractive young woman, but Chan was modest and respectful about it. Minho inspected every part of the place, without giving Chan a single explanation, and as the necessary time passed, he immediately left looking for you in the hotels near the area. But nothing. His frustration grew… he thought for a second that maybe you were telling the truth… but it was hard to believe and even more so with the concept he had of you. Minho knew something was going on. If not Chan, then who? He was going crazy, about to cry with frustration and hatred, he had never felt like this in his life, he felt pathetic, looking for you everywhere, asking for a young, pretty girl with your characteristics, like a complete desperate madman.
And in the torment of his thoughts, Minho stopped his car and pulled over. He had nowhere to go. He didn’t have the slightest idea where you could be and you kept ignoring him. He was so upset and frustrated that, he did what he never thought he would do, tears began to fall from his face as the broad raindrops hit his car hard. Minho sobbed, despising every inch of himself, guilty. Thinking of Suji’s bright smile and the life he had built with her. Of all the times he would get jealous when she had to act in a romantic role and she would in the most genuine, sweetest way tell him it was just work and he was the true love of her life. Why would he do that to her? Just for a little sex? He didn’t hate you this time. He released his frustration by crying, his sobs getting lost in the sound of the falling rain.
He felt stranded. Wondering what the fuck was he doing? What would having you lead him to? That this was all his fault, that you were a promiscuous young woman in search of pleasure, that soon you would get bored of him and leave him, making him cry more, because, deep down he didn’t want that to happen. He loved Suji with all his being… but the feeling was now strange and foggy and no matter how much he thought about it… he wasn’t willing to leave you. He loved you too. He felt cheated and betrayed, it was driving him mad that there could be someone else in your life, making him feel like a damn narcissist and sociopath. Him being able to live the double life, but not letting you do it.
And he cried again, tears wetting his manly face as the rain left certain revelations in its wake… like the fact that he always cared about you but repressed absolutely everything, played hard to stop facing reality and not feel like an animal, a real discord, but he liked you, loved you, your presence was so sweet and innocent, like fresh air after an exhausting day living the adult life. He knew that his heinous acts had no excuse and no forgiveness… but then… what was there supposed to be? He didn’t want to lose you. He didn’t want you to have someone else. He just wanted to know the truth.
You on the other hand had a nice night, by Hyunjin’s side, but distant. There were times when you were happy… and times when you felt like the other woman, like when they happily asked about his wife and kids and you were… literally nobody to them.
On the road you were somewhat pensive, fantasizing the perfect life next to Hyunjin, but it made you extremely sad that his life was already made. He had already built it, a house, his children, a steady job and you… you were nothing to him but a toy which he liked to show off discreetly since… you were nothing to him in the public eye, a toy which he used for his pleasure. That hurt you quite a bit coming from Hyunjin, because there was something about him so sweet that you loved, but you thought that after all… he wasn’t as sweet as you thought and you were just being brainwashed.
In your madness… you asked him about his children, if they were cute and sociable kids… Making Hyunjin’s heart almost burst out of his chest, implying that you were willing to know more about his life. Hyunjin unlike Minho, he considered himself absolutely lost in you and admitted it. He liked you so purely, he wanted to know everything about you, he wanted the perfect life with you.
And he convinced himself in his sick brain that… it was just the hard time when you met, but you were destined. You instantly retracted, thinking that you must also think it was just for pleasure.
But you couldn’t help but not get attached to the men who had you often and pretended to love you and take care of your body.
⊹ ︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶ ⊹
The next day, it was Minho himself who cancelled you seeing each other; upsetting you a bit because you remembered a little about his annoying comment in that it would be the last time you would see each other.
Minho didn’t accept his feelings. And he felt completely pathetic for crying, especially crying for you, so he decided to… walk away.
So, he wanted to relax a bit, asking to see his friends, which he did. Having a few cold beers while they talked, but as much as he wanted to hide it, the great feeling of anguish in him had a name and it was yours. He just couldn’t get the fact that you had someone out of his head and already drunk, he started saying nonsensical things.
“Hey, Chan, are you sure Y/n doesn’t have a boyfriend? That girl…”
“What about Y/n?” blurted out Hyunjin, earning the stares of the other men and Minho looking at him with narrowed eyes, “She’s a nice girl” excused Hyunjin as he felt everyone’s stares.
“Well, you never know man, she’s a young woman” Chan replied interrupting, “Why the curiosity?”
Minho didn’t react and didn’t know what to say. But Hyunjin interjected them.
“Guys, I really have to go. It’s Saturday, I should be with Yeji.”
His friends thought him cute for his comment since Hyunjin had confessed to have some issues with his wife and his friends encouraged him to fight for his marriage, them not knowing that the background of the comment was so she wouldn’t suspect that he had another woman, so he spent the days he didn’t see you with her.
“Can you drive?” asked Chan worriedly.
“Yes, I’m fine” he replied more relaxed.
The party was over once Hyunjin left. He returned home, still slightly dizzy but once he took a cold shower, the drunkenness left his adult body and he couldn’t help but think of the most delicious shower sex he could have ever had, which he had with you yesterday. He needed you. Now. And not just sexually, he wanted to hold you until you fell asleep on his chest like he loved, he wanted to see you when you woke up, when you slept, he wanted to support you in everything, to be with you while you did something from college, to learn to cook together… why couldn’t he have that life with you.
Hyunjin walked with slow steps out of the bathroom, already wearing his pajamas and saw Yeji’s silhouette on the bed. He couldn’t keep doing that to her. He was already in love with someone else and he couldn’t pretend anymore, he sighed, nervously, thinking that if she was asleep… he would tell her tomorrow, but to his surprise, she was awake.
Yeji leaned back against the backrest and gave him a smile.
“Mmm, you’re a little early this time, it’s barely midnight. Come to bed.”
She had barely arrived from her grandmother’s house in the afternoon and barely saw her husband, so she wanted to be in his arms. But Hyunjin didn’t want that anymore.
Hyunjin approached the bed, with no expression on his face, almost confusing Yeji.
He sat on the edge of the bed, looking into her eyes.
“Hyun…”
“Yeji. We should get a divorce.”
Hyunjin plucked up the courage to tell her, he couldn’t stand the fact that you felt sad that you had to hide from everyone and just be a mistress.
She looked at him gently confused and then terrified, her world suddenly came crashing down.
Hyunjin was ready to share his life with you because being with him implied so many things, he was ready to tell you that he loves you.
⊹ ︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶ ⊹
For Minho, the sedative effect of the alcohol didn’t last long either, he was anxious again, insecurities and urges attacked him again. At least he wanted to know the truth. He wanted to know who was occupying a place in your heart or in your body, he needed it to know, he was desperate.
So, he didn’t enter his home, he stayed in front of Chan’s house, not caring that he also just arrived. Minho called you.
You were enjoying your Saturday, with the bedroom curtain open and watching movies on your laptop that you had forgotten it was getting late. It was already Sunday.
You were ready for bed, you had made yourself comfortable and decided to relax a bit, because if you didn’t stay distracted your mind was bouncing like a ping pong head from one man to another… and almost as if you manifested it, Lee Minho appeared as a call on your phone.
You blinked in confusion, as he sounded serious about telling you that he didn’t want to see you the last time he called you….
“Hello…?” you replied.
“Come out, now. I’m outside your house. I need to see you.”
Your skin bristled, he sounded so serious, sad and genuine. He had never used the word need. You looked towards the window, it was starting to rain heavily. Minho’s patience ran out.
“Get out. Now.”
“But it’s raining…”
“So? You won’t walk far, I’m waiting for you in my car.”
“It’s late…”
“Why do you keep bringing up excuses not to see me?” he blurted out annoyed, then sighed, as he noticed how insistent he was being, “Just come out, I need to see you. Missy will understand you ran away to see some douchebag your age, you’re young, for god’s sake. I’ll wait for you.”
Minho hung up, leaving you confused. You bit your lip nervously and grabbed the first oversized hoodie you could find, the umbrellas were at the entrance and you would exit out the back. So you slipped on some sneakers and covered yourself with the hoodie from the rain, sneaking out and creeping out the back, until you rounded the house and almost running in the dark, you spotted through the rain Minho’s truck, climbing in quickly, soaking wet.
Minho almost smiled at the sight of you… but remembered, he was there to confront you. And he wouldn’t be gentle with you about it, he never was.
“Sorry, I’m wet” you said, taking off your hood and looking at him.
Minho looked handsome as always, but he looked like he had been out somewhere, dressing up and smelling nicely. And there you were, almost at 1 a.m. riding in Minho’s car, without even thinking about it, because you recognized that…. Minho could do a lot of things against you. Because you liked him too much, maybe a little more than Hyunjin, because there was something about him that attracted you to him fatally. But he didn’t seem to care about you at all, hurting deep inside you. Oh, but you had no idea how unhinged Lee Minho was becoming.
Minho had his hands on the steering wheel, looked straight ahead and then slowly looked at you, at first all normal except for his discomfort… but something about the hoodie you were wearing seemed so familiar. His mind instantly visualized Hyunjin seeing that black hoodie; Minho frowned, finding it ridiculous that it looked exactly like a hoodie his friend had that he remembered perfectly because he had borrowed it from him once a few months ago, but Minho had washed it and returned it to him, only Hyunjin’s had his initials embroidered on the left sleeve, H. H. in white because Hyunjin explained to him that Yeji had some of her children’s clothes embroidered and the hoodie got lost there, so she asked them to put H.H. on it as a cute little joke.
Minho examined you incredulously, his heart beginning to race… wondering if by any chance… Hyunjin and you…
He couldn’t believe it, he almost laughed at the insanity of his thought, that it was a stupid black hoodie, still, almost panicking, he looked down just to check and there was the answer to all his questions, the two damn letters of his best friend embroidered on the left sleeve.
Minho raised his gaze quickly, catching your eyes, his big eyes almost trembling in stress and suddenly became bright, almost on the verge of tears. Minho averted his gaze quickly, so obvious that something suddenly happened, worrying you and leaving you confused.
He felt so betrayed, it was his karma; his breathing shortened and his sight didn’t linger on anything specific as he was busy connecting the confusing dots that could indicate that all this time you were Hyunjin’s lover too. Minho thought, destroyed, about Hyunjin confessing to be having problems with Yeji, you wearing his hoodie, Hyunjin being unavailable on certain days…. Minho could hardly believe it. You were the little home wrecker who interfered between Hyunjin and Yeji. He never saw it coming from Hyunjin.
“Is something wrong…?” you whispered softly since you noticed Minho completely gone.
He softly denied, “No” he stammered.
His mind kept thinking that it was one of his best friends who tasted you every day so well, that you played so well with him as much as you liked to play with him. You couldn’t find the right words to say as it was quite obvious that it looked as if something was going on and you started to be concerned.
“Minho…”
Minho ignored you completely and started the car, not knowing exactly what he was doing.
“You had something to tell me…? Are we going somewhere?”
He ignored you again and drove on in the heavy rain, you were starting to get a little upset.
Minho didn’t know what to do or why he was even driving… what was he supposed to tell you now that he could face you and knew the whole truth.
“I think it’s raining a lot, we can stay here for a while…”
Minho stopped short, startling you and causing your body to go forward from the sudden movement. He turned to look at you and a wave of sadness and anger washed over him.
“Hyunjin? Really?” he mumbled in annoyance, piercing you with his gaze.
You almost sighed in astonishment, wondering if you had heard correctly.
“It wasn’t enough for you to fuck up my life now you went and fucked up Hyunjin’s too!” he shouted, his voice rising higher and higher, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Hyunjin knows that you fuck me too? You thought you could live in your fantasy by fucking two men, what were you thinking, stupid kid?!”
Minho yelled at you, annoyed, claiming thing after thing you were trying to process. Your heart pounded and you felt so intimidated by his eyes getting bigger and the vein in his neck standing out as he yelled at you.
So he knew… how? you thought. Your breath hitched and you felt the sudden pallor of your body. Your voice cracked instantly, if you spoke you were going to stutter, you were a mess all of a sudden, thinking why was it making him so angry anyway?
“You’re not going to say anything?!” he shouted again, tightening his grip on the steering wheel, “How can you look me in the eyes after what you’ve done? Or do you even feel anything at all?”
It was funny… that the coldest person would suddenly talk about emotions.
“Minho…” you tried to say, you were scared but a part of you felt like you didn’t owe him any explanation.
He sighed, frustrated running his hand over his face.
“You really were a fucking whore, shit, all this time I was telling you as a joke, but… two men at once?” he laughed mockingly, “You didn’t answer my question. Hyunjin knows you’re fucking me too?”
He railed with hatred his every word and turned to look at you in a way he had never done before, you felt judged and dirty, that your eyes were starting to water.
“No…” you replied with your voice breaking on the verge of tears.
Why it was so difficult for you. As much as you denied it and lived in your illusion trying to convince yourself that you only used them for sex, you were a naive young girl, that with time and the fact of seeing them often, sharing small moments together, you came to involve feelings, you came to love them passionately, you got to arrive at your sister’s house with a knot in your throat every time one of them left you blocks behind the house so they wouldn’t see them, you got to feel pathetic while crying because of the confusion and addiction of wanting to keep seeing them, even when the only way to do it was to get sexually involved with you, because you wanted the warmth of their bodies close to you. But none of them were yours.
Minho watched as you began to cry and something bigger to him came over him, it was anger, sadness and pity, you had him all messed up.
“Don’t cry” he said coldly.
His cold tone detonated your crying more. You had it all with Hyunjin, you didn’t understand why you punished yourself so much by loving Minho and his cold personality… but you felt so stupid to think you had it all, you had nothing, they were men with their lives made, you were nothing but a brat attending college, you had nothing but hours of them where they used you for sex, you had nothing but a passionate fake love because you weren’t sure what or how they were feeling. And that was exactly what you didn’t want to involve, feelings, you didn’t want to think about them, you didn’t want them inside you, you wanted a good time with them. Sometimes you wished you were a machine with no feelings, that it was exactly what you thought you were for them, but every time you felt like that was what you were for them, your world became miserable. You didn’t know what to think of all the sweet moments and details of Hyunjin and your unexpected closeness and trust with Minho that was just now breaking down.
The cruel reality of many things you were avoiding was hitting you hard just now.
“Fuck, don’t cry, don’t play the victim… everyone here is guilty” Minho mumbled again as you stopped seeing him clearly because tears were filling your eyes, “I guess you’re happy with whatever you wanted to achieve, you know Hyunjin is getting divorced? That’s what you wanted? You fucking homewrecker!”
“What?” you sobbed in confusion, the ending echoed in every part of you and you were shocked at his comment as you wiped your tears in vain because they wouldn’t stop coming out.
You were shocked wondering if Hyunjin was about to give up everything to be with you and the thought terrified you. Missy would hate you, Chan would hate you, Minho would hate you, you would have no one but Hyunjin, you loved him, but you hadn’t wanted to face that reality. You thought about him and if the sudden news that you were also sleeping with Minho would affect him just as intensely, and and the top of all, you felt so lonely and cold, crying in front of the man you loved without him having even the slightest reaction to you… you understood it all, Minho never really cared about you, you thought; so why was he complaining about you… had it hurt his ego?
Minho lied, exaggerating his comment just to make you feel worse because he was still a bit bitter, he didn’t have the slightest idea if Hyunjin was getting divorced… and if he was about to do it in order to be with you it was a trigger to cut friendship, he would never forgive either of you if you ended up together. The advantage was… Hyunjin didn’t know that you were with Minho, or at least Minho thought so as an advantage, but Minho’s big problem was that he loved you, but he wasn’t willing to leave Suji or his life with his children for you… he still didn’t assimilate that truth. He didn’t want his children to be separated from their mother -or father, as he was the one guilty-, he didn’t want to create a drama among all his circle of acquaintances… but… if you confessed to him right there and then, that he was the one you chose, you would touch his deepest point and he would leave everything just to be with you, Minho knew he would do it no matter how tough a man he acted.
You didn’t want to hurt anyone and you were slowly destroying everything in your path.
Minho was still upset and as much as it hurt him to see you cry, he wanted to release all his anger.
“Ah, Y/N, what were you thinking, huh? How did you think this was all going to end? Did you think we were going to be happy and have a fucking threesome? Get out of your fucking bubble, say something, now. You’re nothing but a mistake I wish I’d never made. The worst part is, I was stupid enough to think you cared” he blurted out, not measuring how very hurtful it might have sounded to you.
“I have nothing to apologize for all… this… this… wasn’t just my fault.”
“No shit. It was ours for falling for someone like you.”
This time you looked away from Minho, unable to believe that you still loved him and all you wanted was a hug from him, or how you held on to the hoodie, feeling Hyunjin’s scent and missing him like never before because you knew he would say the sweetest things.
“Besides I don’t understand why you’re so upset? If it was always just about the sex, I don’t understand why you wouldn’t react happily to the possibility of more sex and a fucking threesome, isn’t that all I’m here for?” you defended yourself, with your voice shaking.
The tension was felt in Minho’s rain-confined car. He was so upset… but not upset enough to ask you to leave and not to see you, he still wanted to see your eyes glistening with tears and your fragile body sobbing and begging to be touched, purely… but something in him stopped him, he couldn’t admit, how much he loved you and that he just wanted you to stay away from Hyunjin, or any other man.
“It’s not just sex…” he whispered, drawing the attention of your sobbing body, “At least not for me and I don’t think so of Hyunjin either… if he ever finds out, you’re going to break his heart.”
You wiped away your tears which were slowly ceasing and looked at him in confusion because he suddenly looked relaxed and his gaze softened on you. You understood Minho less and less.
“Just… you have to leave Hyunjin” he said more seriously.
You nodded, not because you listened to him, but because leaving them both would be the best option. You had no future with either of them no matter how much you loved them, they would all end up hating you. Tomorrow you would find a way to look for Hyunjin, to end your little game that was going to extremes.
“And I have to leave you too” you whispered.
Minho closed his eyes deeply and pressed his lips together, as it was something he didn’t want to hear. He sighed, looking out towards the rain falling on his window. He muttered, almost to himself
“I trusted you. Hell, I loved you. But all along, you were sleeping with my best friend. I didn’t lose you-I lost everything.”
Your eyes traveled quickly all over his silhouette, on his perfect sculpted profile, his long eyelashes and jet-black hair slightly illuminated by a single lamppost from outside. Your heart pounded again, not sure if you heard right… but there was no sound, other than of the drops hitting his car.
“What…?” you whispered, feeling your world spinning, you didn’t want him to say it, you’d hate him if he did… that after all he did.
“I love you. What are we going to do?”
Minho turned to look at you, again his piercing gaze searching your eyes, but something about him looked so soft. You hated him. You thought he was manipulating you, that he didn’t know what he was saying… that you loved him too.
But the softness of Hyunjin’s hoodie reached your bristling skin. You froze and decided not to give him satisfaction for the first time since you met him, you wouldn’t let him know that you loved him too, because you loved Hyunjin too, and you couldn’t keep either of them.
You recognized that the great damage was already done and all thanks to you and for being, as he had said before, a homewrecker.
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