#i finally stopped being lazy kinda

[aroaceofthesea]

I was in a 18 bday party today and we didnt have a gift for the bday girl💀💀

[jaggedamethyst]

easy (bucky barnes x gn!reader)

content: life with bucky is amazing…but it’s easy to feel like you’re not enough when your relationship is a secret.

secret relationship, miscommunication/misunderstanding, angst, self doubt, alpine!!!!! not proofread

notes: fawk tik tok but welcome everyone who is bored and here getting their bucky content now. real as fuck. (no sharon carter slander allowed around me ever btw.)

there will be a part two (possibly more but idk)

main masterlist

part two

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

“I never really understood the appeal of a secret relationship until now,” You glanced over to Bucky, “It’s kinda invigorating.”

He smirked, his lazy smile matching his relaxed figure—sprawled on the bed next to you. “Invigorating, huh?”

He had rushed over the night before, getting back to the compound and waiting for a good time to slyly step out. It became habit; he would say that he was coming back from a run in the mornings. If he ever was caught in the evening, he’d simply went on one of many errand trips.

The truth was, that people didn’t really notice him. Bucky Barnes could sneak out and back in relatively unchecked save for Steve. Even then, Bucky’s elusive nature made it easy for people to stop asking after a while. He knew the underlying issue was that they would never truly separate who he was with who he is now. It was okay, though, because he had you. Thats all that mattered.

Peoples’ concern for Bucky’s wellbeing and whereabouts dwindled—figuring he could handle himself. He loved that when everyone else could simply shut their minds off to the thought of a rehabilitated solider—you accepted him with warmth. That affection would never truly be lost on him.

You turned over in your bed, observing Bucky’s features. You couldn’t help the way your entire face upturned—truly invigorated by the sight.

He noticed your stare in his peripheral, “Like what you see?”

“Oh, please.” A pillow found its way in your grip, playfully smacking Bucky in his face. You quickly moved to leap off of the bed, but the attempt was futile, of course. The man had been able to lean over and grab you before you could even process the movement—pushing you firmly into the mattress. Without missing a beat, he leaned in to kiss you—smiling into it. His metal hand found a grip on your neck, just under your chin, and pulled you up into him. The pressure was delicate—the inherent weight of him using this arm not lost on either of you. The coolness spurred you on. Your arms snaked around his back and tightened at the feeling of his skin on yours; you’d never truly gotten used to the feeling.

It was an honor, truly, to be loved by James Barnes. It was even more so to love him. When you were able to bask in the morning sun like this, to kiss him like he could disappear, you never took it for granted.

The kiss quickly became overwhelming. Thoughts of the man filled your mind—mostly of how lucky you felt. Even more common at times like these was to feel as if you weren’t deserving…despite him constantly saying otherwise. He made sure to tell you daily, if not more often, that being a secret was to keep you safe. He couldn’t chance losing you, he’d say. He couldn’t live without you.

But something else clawed at your skull, telling you that maybe you just weren’t enough—that you didn’t look the way you should.

You pulled away, looking between his eyes. He was completely in a daze—lips reddened and swollen so quickly. A blush feathered its way over his cheeks, then, watching you look at him so intensely.

He swallowed, “What?” He pecked your lips quickly. “Am I just that good at kissing that you’re mesmerized by my talents?”

An involuntary huff escaped you and you quickly forgot that fleeting thought of inadequacy. You mirrored his smile before playfully pushing him off of you, finally moving off of the bed and toward the kitchen.

Bucky had a charismatic way about him that could be mistaken for immature. You knew better, though. In his new life he adopted optimism—a way to combat the thoughts he had. Feelings of his still being a horrible man. That he would never escape being an assassin. So when he looked at you and saw a growing somber look on your face, he didn’t expect the worst. He should’ve.

After some time passed, Bucky emerged from your bedroom. You gave him a quick look over the brim of your cup, sipping on your tea. You made a show of observing how he’d freshened up and changed into his signature dark clothing. The sight of Alpine snuggling up to his boot had you cheesing then.

He stalked over to you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Gonna go stop by my place and get a few things…figured she would like the trip.” He leaned down to scoop up his cat. “Should probably also grab more of her food.” He motioned toward the now empty tupperware he had made into a makeshift transport for when the both of them would stay at your place.

“No worries. I should be tidying up around here anyways.” You reached up to hug him, leaving space for Alpine between you.

“I’ll be seeing ya, doll.”

You pushed into his shoulder at his silly remark, but decided to play along. “Be seeing ya, too, Sarge.”

With that he turned to leave—the white cat perched comfortably on his shoulder now.

The sound of the door closing immediately made you turn to survey your apartment. It wasn’t too bad—but could easily take a few hours to freshen up if you made a day of it. With a nod, you began tidying and cleaning to pass the time—occasionally checking your phone for a text or call from Bucky.

It was only way into the night that you began to get anxious. You knew about his job; at one moment there could be nothing and the next a universal threat they had to combat. You tried not to jump to worry, but it was so unlike him. There’d been times like this, where he would disappear. You would take the time, giving him space he probably needed—only to find him holed up in his apartment in the worst condition he’d ever been in. Images of him contracted in on himself and shoved into a dark corner played in your mind. You had to go check, to be sure.

Throwing on a matching sweat set, you shoved your phone and keys into your pocket, quickly making the trek to his place. It wasn’t far, but it wasn’t exactly close. For some reason you made the decision to walk there—the franticness and burn in your legs making the distance seem even larger.

Your chest burned, heaving as you turned the corner. The building came into view, finally. You quickly swiped the extra card he’d given you to enter the building. Every step felt like a march toward complete devastation. Your hands opened and shut, grasping at your hoodie. The elevator ride was torturous. You weren’t sure how you’d find him—the thought alone was driving you up a wall.

As you approached his door, your pace slowed. You dug into your pocket again, reaching for his key on your keychain. Just above the gasps of your breath you heard shuffling in his place—causing you to still. You were sure the expression on your face was one of confusion, wondering why he’d not let you know he got here at least. Just as you went to call his name, a voice spoke, muffled by the closed door. Without a thought, you leaned in at the sound—growing more cautious and remembering just how much Bucky told you to stay aware of your surroundings. With a tilt, you steadied your breathing. None of the words were coming clear to you. It was certain, though, that there was a woman in his place.

You took a long and drawn inhale before swiftly pushing in and turning the key to Bucky’s apartment.

The woman paused the call she’d been on, now looking at you. “I’ll call you back.” She pushed the phone into her pocket, looking at you expectantly. “Hi.”

“Hi?” You gave her a quizzical look, “Who are you?” You hadn’t meant to ask so bluntly.

The woman across from you didn’t move, clearly aware of the fact that you didn’t let the door close. Either you were really dumb…or someone taught you that. She stepped toward you, then, a hand outstretched. “I’m Sharon.” She observed your lack of motion except for a brow that arched at the introduction. “You must know Barnes, he sent me here to check on Alpine…can’t seem to find him.”

“Her.”

“Sorry?”

“Her…Alpine’s…a her.”

Sharon lowered her hand. “Didn’t know, sorry.”

Your grip on the door’s knob loosened a bit at the mention of Bucky and Alpine. Finally, you let the door swing closed behind you—stepping into his living room but keeping a distance.

You cleared your throat, “So where is he? That he couldn’t check on Alpine himself, I mean…”

“I um…” She paused, teetering on her feet. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to say-“

“I’m his friend,” you interrupted. You groaned internally at the attempt to make your presence at his place seem legitimate. “We’ve been friends for a while. Haven’t heard from him and wanted to see if he was okay.”

“So you just walked in?”

“Isn’t that what you did?”

The woman smiled, chuckling to herself. “Got a point there.” Silence filled the room again before she spoke again, “So…you’re a friend…with a key?”

“I watch Alpine when he’s out of town…he figured I should have one just in case he’s ever gone longer than expected.”

You surveyed the woman, looking for any questioning of your rehearsed reply. It was somewhat true…not entirely, though.

You chose to repeat your question, concern still sitting within you. “Where’s Bucky?”

The woman reached in her pocket, causing you to step away from her. She raised her arm—motioning for you to wait. Reflected back at you was her ID and badge. She worked with him.

“You should come with me.”

Just then, Alpine strolled around the corner, approaching you in recognition. You scooped her up the same as Bucky had, watching Sharon move toward the door. You inched back, allowing her the space to exit and for you to follow.

The car ride was uncomfortably silent. No words were exchanged between you and the only sound that resonated between the both of you being Alpines sweet purrs into your lap. Eventually you approached the compound. Bucky had never bought you here—thinking better of it. You followed Sharons swift motions, keeping a somewhat close distance on her trail. Looking around as you walked, you were overwhelmed. There were so many people, all of which Bucky didn’t want to know about you. There were so many weapons, so casually strewn about and waved around.

A shake of your head was inadvertent. You pulled Alpine in closer to you, sniffing in the lingering scent of Bucky on her.

The two of you rounded a corner, a few sectioned off rooms coming into view. Sharon quickly stepped into one, ushering you in.

She leaned down and clicked on a keyboard, speaking while looking at the computer screen. “Barnes was called up.” She clicked away, “We needed some undercover done and they had to be able to speak Russian…possibly other languages.” She side eyed you, making sure you were looking. “We have feeds on them at all times.”

She stood then, backing up to stand in line with you. You surveyed the screen, confused by the atmosphere, “Where is this?”

“Some arts gala…few hours away. We got word of illegal dealings happening a few weeks out so they’re doing recon.”

You nodded, watching the zoomed out view of the ballroom. A quick scan came up empty—no signs of Bucky at all. You saw Sharon in your side view, watching the various emotions littering your face.

She crossed her arms, “Barnes isn’t your friend.”

“No.” It wasn’t a question. You figured this would happen, Bucky said as much, that anyone he worked with would see right through you. You kicked yourself for how obvious you’d been, even when trying to be subtle.

“There they are.”

You looked over to her suddenly, “They?”

She moved to zoom in on the screen. “Yup, Barnes and Romanoff.” Sharon resumed her stance next to you. “See? He’s alright…figured this would ease your mind. I know how he can get.”

There was nothing out of the ordinary and you reasoned that you were just being overly cautious. Admittedly, you jumped to so many conclusions in such a small time.

The sound of Sharon’s phone going off filled the room. “I have to take this, but feel free to stay. I can take you back in a sec, okay?”

“Thank you, Sharon.”

She nodded before stepping out to take the call.

You sat down, allowing Alpine to observe the screen as well. “He’s doing just fine. That’s good, right?”

You looked down at Alpine for a second, amused by your own love for the cat—seeing as you weren’t fond of them as a whole. Generally, you were more of a dog person, but you compromised because Bucky loved her. You smiled at the thought of them, your own little family.

The absentminded circling on Alpine’s back stopped abruptly as you looked up at the screen again. You whispered to yourself, “What the fuck…”

In what seemed to be an average recon mission, seemed to linger a hint of something you didn’t quite like. The distance between Bucky and the woman was closing. His grip found her back, a secure hand there while the other held hers firmly. They were talking. You turned to look for Sharon, hoping there were mics on them. The smiles exchanged back and forth had your chest in pain—the same lazy smile he’d shown you just hours ago. Your body started to shake, pulsing at a frequency that left you feeling unstable. A hand secured you in the chair; you urged yourself to keep watching, even if to your own detriment.

He leaned in, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. They moved apart, then, searching in one another’s gaze. In a split second, the pair’s lips met one another’s. You felt your eyes blink away a sting that approached you quickly. An immediate pain welled up in you. You couldn’t believe it. Clenching down on your teeth, you stood up quickly, moving closer to the monitor. Your finger trailed his face, looking for any sign that this was just an act—an elaborate ruse for the task at hand. Yet, there was nothing.

You couldn’t help but let the feelings of inadequacy cloud your judgement. You couldn’t help but doubt everything he’d ever said. You couldn’t help but cower away from yourself—scared of your own reflection now. It had to be true…you just simply weren’t enough. Someone else was better.

Feeling Alpine in your hands, you pressed a firm hug and kiss into her fur. You rubbed her reassuringly before setting her down in the chair. “I’ll see you later…okay?”

The cat seemed to look at you longingly—but you couldn’t let that stop your path. You had to get out of here. Swinging the door open, you stepped out into the hall and looked around for Sharon. She seemed to have disappear—of course. You took a few steps, unsure of which direction to go. To anyone watching, you seemed to stutter step. You’d move in one direction and question the next. Suddenly, a man came into view, towering over you.

He leaned down to meet your eyeline, “Hey.” He waved a hand in an attempt to break you from your trance. “You okay? You seem lost.”

“I just need to get out of here.” You move to step around him, “Excuse me.”

Your quick footsteps carried you toward the outside—the familiar burn of your legs reminding you of the feeling just an hour ago. How concerned you’d been, you thought, only for him to be hours away having the time of his life…without you.

Within a few minutes, you were able to find a ride and head home. Opening your apartment door hit you in a way you didn’t expect. You had cleaned everything, yes, but you had accidentally removed all traces of Bucky in your attempt to straighten up. The lack of him felt too real—hitting your chest with a force you couldn’t take.

In all your time together you hadn’t felt more connected to Bucky than right now. You empathized with him—sinking to the floor came easy. Letting yourself waste away in an effort to not acknowledge the pain was… easy. Sitting in the dark, ignoring calls, letting your mind run rampant.

I can do this, you thought. Reveling in the feeling of sadness was much easier than facing Bucky. So you simply…wouldn’t.

part two

[bbyseok]

thinking about your boyfriend gojo satoru who starts floating every time you kiss him on the lips, and you finally have your first make out session with him.

gojo satoru x gn!reader, suggestive

“baby, puh-leaseeeee!”

being gojo’s classmate-turned-friend-turned-partner, you’re pretty used to the sorcerer’s occasional pouting ‘n whining, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so desperate before.

you’re in the confines of his dorm room, seated on his bed, facing each other with your legs crossed and knees brushing against his.

it had been like any other lazy afternoon with each other, munching on snacks after the completion of another easy mission when your boyfriend had suddenly grabbed ahold of your hands with a single proposal,

“wanna make out?”

he swears up and down that nothing wonky will happen to his cursed technique once his lips are on yours, but you’re not too sure about that.

you toy with his slender fingers absentmindedly, “i don’t know, ‘toru..”

“sweetheart, you’re telling me you haven’t thought about us making out before?” he huffs and puffs like a kid who isn’t able to stick his hand in the cookie jar, but then again, that sounds just like satoru.

“what? no. i mean- i guess i have…” you try to brush off the fact that you’re getting kinda.. flustered. he’s just so damn insistent about this.

of course you’ve thought about kissing him more.. passionately. it’s just that you also have placed thought in how it might go—with you two up in the air.

a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s not one of those smug, arrogant ones he usually offers his opponents. it’s something more along the lines of mirth and affection.

“sooooooo….”

you roll your eyes. “fine.” his eyes light up and before he can cheer, you add, “but the second something goes wrong we’re stopping.”

“yeah, yeah,” he says, but it’s rushed and hurried—excited. admittedly, you are too, as he shuffles closer with a giddy grin.

his eyes are unwavering in their stare even as the corners crinkle up along with his grin, and it only serves to make you smile fondly in return.

unlike your very first kiss, gojo moves in before you—he leans forward and captures your lips with his. the two of you have never kissed for longer than a few seconds, but then he’s suddenly angling his head to deepen it and your breath is stolen.

where the hell did he learn to kiss like this?

you have no time to gather your thoughts, rather going on instinct as you feel satoru’s hand come up to cradle the side of your face, swiping his thumb over your cheek with a tenderness that makes you melt further into his touch.

gojo makes out with you like he’s been waiting for forever to do this, which might not be so far from the truth. you return his enthusiam, fingers tangling with the snowy locks at his nape.

he’s a bit sloppy with it, but you hazily think that’s a given since he’s never made out with anyone before and holy shit—you’re actually making out with him.

it’s the loud sounds of wet lips smacking against each other, all hot ‘n heavy, that make you blush and feel warm all over.

gojo hasn’t started floating yet, and you only know that because he’s leaning forward even more, crawling and invading your space until its no longer yours, and you have no choice to fall back onto the sheets.

his arms cage you in as he hovers over you now, and his lips leave yours for only a few fleeting moments before he’s kissing you fervently again.

everything is going okay (more than okay), satoru is still in control of his powers, you’re getting a lil’ breathless and—

uh oh.

gojo pulls away only by a few centimeters, lips still brushing against yours, but you can feel his panic as his eyes widen and he’s pulling even further away.

you know you said you’d stop if his powers started getting out of control but you’d be damned if this stopped now, so you grab him by the collar of his shirt and shove him back, a yelp leaving his throat when you straddle his lap.

“there,” you huff out, the edges of a smirk on your lips now that you’ve found a little solution to gojo’s floating problem. you laugh a bit breathlessly, “now you can’t float away from me.”

with his cheeks flushed a pretty pink and his sky blue eyes wide, for once satoru looks like he’s at a loss for words as he blinks up at you. he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure, “well damn, babe, if i had known you’d be this forward i would’ve done this a lot soo-”

you roll your eyes again with a slight grin. “shut up, ‘toru.”

satoru grins too, but you make good on your words by pulling him by his shirt again to effectively shut him up with your lips.

(and, well.. let’s just say something else goes up whenever you make out with him.)

[hxney-lemcn]

Passionate Hearts — Overblots x gn! reader

summery: what making out with the overblots is like.

tw: steamy-ish, this is as steamy as I'll ever get (not much at all lmao)

a/n: idk where this came from. Idek how good this is. I don't even like writing steamy stuff so this kinda reads more artistic somehow?? Idk

wc: 1.3k (~ 185 per character)

Master List

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

How uncouth of him. He can’t seem to stop you as you continue to enchant him with your lovely kisses. Riddle is nothing but a lovesick fool when it comes to you, and it becomes apparent as your kiss becomes more fervent. He’s a blushing mess as you seem to be unable to pull away. His heart is a stuttering mess, and he never wants you to stop. No matter how passionate your kisses become, it's still gentle. The way he caresses your face is soft, his lips caressing yours so lovely that you feel weak in the knees. And when you pull away, finally getting your fill of his love, you both are a bit of a mess. Hair slightly disheveled, clothes a bit crooked, lips a bit puffy. You couldn’t complain though, it wasn’t every day that you saw the Heartslabyul housewarden so unkempt. Riddle also didn’t seem to mind so much, as long as you only do such actions behind closed doors. He doesn’t think he could handle the embarrassment if Ace or Deuce caught you both in such an intimate act.

❥ Leona Kingscholar

Unlike Riddle, Leona is ruthless when it comes to your more passionate moments. Fervent kisses turn wild with lips being bit and prodding tongues. It feels like you’re being devoured every time and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You had never seen him so passionate about something until he refused to let your lips part. He loved the way you felt, your soft lips puffy with abuse, hair tangled between his fingers. Leona was addicted to your taste and he isn’t shy about it. Sure, he is a bit lazy, beckoning you to come closer to him, but he’ll leave you breathless and wanting more by the end. It isn’t fair how unaffected he seems after he’s done, pulling you closer for a nap (he needed to re-energize after all that labor). His silky hair was barely rustled, his clothes as messy as they normally were. The only evidence of your actions was his slightly puffy lips. Don’t worry though, people know he’s yours with the way he’ll kiss you anywhere anytime. Leona isn’t afraid to put some runts in their place.

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

Azul has a love-hate relationship with the idea of kissing you. On one hand, he can’t live without your lips slotted on his, on the other…he hates how vulnerable he feels. Though that feeling dissipates quickly when he’s suddenly surrounded with you. Your touch, your smell, you love. He’s a greedy man and he’ll take any attention from you he can get. His kisses turn desperate quickly, like he’d die if you were to pull away. Azul is a bit more of a messy kisser than he’d like to admit. His desperation for your love overpowers any of his other thoughts and he finds himself scrambling for purchase, holding onto you for dear life. Azul looks at you with so much love when you pull away you feel like your heart is about to explode. As much as he’d like to continue, he forlornly concludes that you both can’t stay like this forever. Perhaps another time, you’re always welcome in his VIP room at the lounge after all…just make sure Jade and Floyd don’t notice your disheveled appearance as you exit. 

❥ Jamil Viper

It wasn’t often that Jamil indulged in such acts. Let himself be so vulnerable. But as you continued to leave sweet short kisses, he found his resolve crumbling. It scared him that you were able to make him give in so easily, but he trusted you, something that not many people had. His kisses feel a bit controlling, his hand pressed against the back of your neck keeping you in place. Jamil’s kisses are slow and deliberate. Every action has its purpose, and he loves to take his time and savor you. You find yourself hypnotized without his signature spell. Despite the deeply intimate act, he’s still tender with you. Jamil isn’t touchy with you often, so he’ll make sure you know how much he loves you. He hates to admit how he doesn’t want to stop, but his break is almost over. You’re more messy looking than he is at the end, and Jamil can’t help but look smug. People won’t catch you in the act, but it raises some eyebrows when you come out of Jamil’s room a little more messy than when you entered. 

❥ Vil Schoenheit

You lucky bastard. Another one that doesn’t indulge in such actions often. Vil doesn’t like to admit how much you get to him. The fact that he restrains from any physical affection with you mixed with how much he wants to drown you in love…yeah lets say he finds himself releasing his pent up emotions on your poor lips. He only allows such acts when you're both unwinding for the day, and you are not allowed to leave any evidence (he has an image to uphold). Vil kisses you with so much passion you’re left breathless with the first one, and he won’t hold up either. You seriously question his remark of you being his first partner because the way he kisses you makes him feel like an expert. He looks like a God (always) by the end. Eyes dilated, chest heaving, golden hair barely out of place (but enough to make your heart flutter, you did that). Once you both slow down, he’ll pepper your face with kisses wishing you a good night's rest as he plays with your hair…you're not sure if you could sleep after that. 

❥ Idia Shroud

You will always be the one to initiate such intimate acts. As much as he wants to, he’s too shy. An innocent kiss going a little farther as Idia couldn’t resist the temptation that was you. And as your lips locked, Idia found his nervous energy leaving him as his mind melted into a goop. His kisses are inexperienced, teeth clashing with yours (he didn’t mean too), but he’ll learn over time. He can be a fast learner, and who wouldn’t want to get some practice in? (Idia is more willing than you’d think). He gets a bit uncharacteristically confident the longer you two kiss. Pressing your lips together more firmly, shaking hands holding onto your figure, small whimpers swallowed by your awaiting mouth. Both of you are flustered beyond imagination by the end, warm cheeks and fast beating hearts, shaky breaths. Just like that, Idia finds himself short circuiting. You were just so amazing, lovely, warm…you were gonna kill him one day. Don’t even think of doing anything like that in public though, he might actually die (and cry and never go outside again). 

❥ Malleus Draconia

Every time you shared a kiss it would be one of passion. Malleus loves you so much he felt the need to express it, make sure you clearly understood how much you meant to him. But you would have to be the one to push further, as Malleus usually left it at one kiss, he wanted you to set the pace. He won’t back down if you continue to kiss him, his actions will become more possessive. Hands that cradled your cheeks move to the back of your head, his kisses becoming more hungry. He basks in your warmth, in your love, in your being. He loses himself in you, and he internally thanks you for allowing himself to indulge in your love. Malleus isn’t foolish enough to think it's appropriate for such actions to be indulged in with others present…but he also finds himself uncaring. He loves you, and if you wish it, who was he to deny? (Sebek will be so stunned that he can’t get any words out). Not to mention how exhilarating to see the fae prince’s composure shattered. Pink cheeks, dilated eyes, puffy lips…oh what a sight indeed.

[yjhzies]

“Tiptoe and kiss.” — Kim Mingyu

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . one-shot . cute

⋆ pairings : mingyu x gn!reader ⋆ warning : reader is kinda grumpy due to just waking up (inspired by real life y'all 😔) ⋆ wc : 0.4k [✉️] · Mingyu's plan backfiring? A daily routine now. (only if he wasn't so down bad)

⋆ - note : YALL I HAD SO MANY UNFINISHED WRITINGS ITS INSANE. I finished some of them and I'll probably continue posting for a few days before I start a series <3 stay tuned!!

"Gyu?" You peep your head in the kitchen. You had slept in almost the entire afternoon, but when you felt Mingyu's side of the bed cold, you were wide awake.

Mingyu turned at the sound of your voice and smiled. "You're awake? how was your sleep?" He asked as you walked towards him, still trying to adjust to the lighting.

"Pretty good.." You mumble, wrapping your arms around his side and rested your head on his shoulder.

Your blurry vision made Mingyu look more big than he was, and you furrowed your eyebrows trying to get a clear view of your surroundings.

"That's good, I was just about to wake you up. I'm preparing noodles for us." Mingyu says, glancing at you with a soft smile.

You hum and nod in response-something in you too lazy to word out a better response. But you could think of an even better response. You tiptoe to peck his cheek, but couldn't reach him as he didn't lean down.

You weren't short, Mingyu was too tall.

And it was true, your height was just above average but Mingyu? A literal 6'2 man. You'd have to be a giant to almost reach his height.

Maybe he didn't realise-so you try once again, and again, but Mingyu still didn't lean down for you to kiss his cheek. But you could see more clearer to notice the slight smug smile spreading across his face, making you frown.

"Hey, don't ignore me."

"Huh?"

"I said don't ignore me."

"What do you mean, baby? I'm not ignoring you." Mingyu said softly, biting his lower lip to stop the smile tugging at his lips. He turned to you, barely managing to hold back his laugh at the sight of your pout.

"You're doing this on purpose..." You say, rolling your eyes. Despite being a little sleepy, you couldn't shake off the feeling of irritation at how Mingyu decided to tease you instead of wrapping his arms around you and letting you kiss him.

Mingyu finally burst into a fit of laughter, wrapping his arms around your waist and putting his head on your shoulder to stabilize himself.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," He apologized between giggles, tightening his strong arms around you.

That stupid little fang smile of his, making you smile aswell. He leaned down, just like he always did so that you can kiss him all over his face, and closed his eyes.

"Here you go," he waited for your soft lips to press against his skin.

"What?"

Mingyu opens his eyes, looking at you with raised eyebrows. "Hm?"

"What are you doing?" You ask, placing your hands on his chest. It was your turn to tease him now.

Mingyu blinked, and slowly straighted himself. He looked down at your hand and let his lower lip jut out into a pout.

"I'm sorry, baby, I shouldn't have teased you." His voice barely above a whisper, he apologized. And now, you burst into a fit a laughter and gently grab his face to peck his lips.

His pout immediately turned into a grin as his hands find your lower back, and he softly deepens the kiss.

[hwajin]

☆°. — aphrodite ; hhj

genre: smut, fluff

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

wc: 4.4k

warnings/ content: established relationship, hyunjin is very needy and obsessive, body worship (feet stuff..... hear me out y'all), oral (f receiving), SLIGHT foot job HEAR ME OUT Y'ALL, also not edited because i'm lazy

author's note: okay. you all need to hear me out because i didn't know this fic woul dabble into unknown territory but trust me it's NOT a feet kink kinda fic it's a body worship fic!!!! don't let the mention of feet stop you from this fic pls i swear it makes sense with hyunjin ( @astraystayyh can confirm i converted her). also this fic is inspired by so many different things i can't name them all, but one of them is this song.

Your body registered the deep grunt before your brain properly did; you tensed, the hairs on your skin standing straight, your core tingling with delight. You gave the man in your bed a curious look, one eyebrow raised; and you almost sighed out in response. Hyunjin was in nothing but boxers, your blanket – long smelling of him, or a mixture of you and him, or sex and him – lazily draped over his lean body, not necessarily to cover him but just because it was there. And it was barely covering him, in the first place; revealing his entire upper body and one leg which he couldn’t hold still, digging it into your mattress, or stretching. His shaved head was buried in your pillows – also holding his scent, reminding you of the times you pulled it close to your body and breathed it in whenever he couldn’t stay overnight – and he looked tortured, somehow. Laying on his side but writhing, half of his face hidden in the pillowcase before he sighed out hopelessly, and threw himself on his back. His body tensed with the movement, abdomen clenching and revealing muscle, shoulders protruding, the skin there stretching thinly, and it gave you the godliest sight. And then he looked at you. Finally. Deep eyes locking with yours, reading you, pleading you, begging you for something yet unspoken. But you could tell he was; his telltale puppy eyes, his blown out pupils, his quivering lip. His scrunched, full brows. Not only could you look at him forever, you also knew he wanted something. Something from you.  

You cocked your head, stopped in your work – assignments you needed to complete, deadlines you had to meet, and Hyunjin had complained about it plenty when you had left the bed to sit at your desk. His hand had not let go of you until the very last moment, tracing your curves while you had stood up and put on a shirt of his, having been thrown to the floor mindlessly last night, or earlier that day, you weren’t quite sure. Time was hardly ever separable with him, minutes becoming hours becoming days, and nights, and you never knew when one ended and the other began. Hyunjin’s fingers had caressed your body up until the very point you’d been unreachable to him, and you had felt his touch linger on your skin, hot and scorching, when you sat before your laptop. You had also heard his moans and grunts of protest, but you had done your best to tease at him; despite everything in your body screaming to just slide back into his arms, warm and long and inviting, steady. 

And your body was screaming now, too. He looked so adoring, so comfortable. He looked so desperate looking at you, chest heaving with his breathing, as if to tempt you on purpose, as if to navigate your attention towards it. To the smooth skin of his body, his prominent collarbones scattered with love bites, his hardened nipples. It wasn’t cold in the room. 

You caught his face again. If he’d noticed you staring he didn’t let you know, and you broke under his gaze, eventually. 

“What’s up babe.” The tone of you voice didn’t ask a question, and you chuckled when he groaned again and let his hand drag over his face. Utterly tortured. So dramatic. You rolled your eyes with a smile even though he couldn’t see, too busy being tragic. He huffed out, looked at you again. 

Suddenly shy; you thought you caught him blush. 

“This song makes me so horny.”, he muffled into the pillow, turning in your bed again, stomach now hidden, exposing his back instead. He had barely spoken the words when you started laughing, brightly. You registered the song playing on your speakers, one on your joined playlist, the deep bass and sensual melody filling the room, the echoes and lazy voices setting a nice mood if combined with the vanilla scented candles you had lit, the dim lights you had turned on. The sunset you had opened the blinds for. You laughed because it was absurd. Because Hyunjin looking so pained, so desperate and tense because of a song was amusing; but it made sense. 

Of course he would get horny over a song. Of course he would remember how you had stood between his legs just hours prior while he sat on the closed toilet seat, only a towel wrapped around his waist while this very song was playing from your phone. Of course he would remember how you had dried your hair right in front of him, chest inches away from his face, how he had tried to continue the oh so innocent conversation you had started, adamant to look into your eyes, to look up, to not let himself get distracted, how he had grown weak and started kissing your breasts, instead, eventually. As if he’d been bound to. With the song setting the mood hours prior too, how he had started letting his fingers dance upon your outer thighs before finding your core, asking for permission with big, dark eyes. It made sense that he would remember how you had sighed his name when the tongue of his had found your nipple, when his free hand started softly caressing your sides, your waist, your hips, cupping your chest, licking you, kissing you, fingering you so softly only minutes after you’d had made love in the shower. And in bed before that. And on the couch in your living room before that. 

Of course Hyunjin would remember how the song had played every time your lips clashed together, when his hands found your mounds, intertwined with your fingers, when your scent, your taste met his mouth; he was your hopeless romantic, after all, always caught on the mundane, fixated on the very nihil and it always meant the world to him. A song. Of course a song would mean the world to him; if only it reminded him of you. 

But still you laughed. Teased him. Because sometimes you liked to, and sometimes you just couldn’t let him distract you, as much as you would want him to. You watched his writhing figure, but couldn’t for too long; the muscles in his back spasmed with every bass in the song, and his arms tensed when he let them disappear beneath the pillow, hugging it. Something about it was sinful, suggestive. You imagined your own body there, between his arms, in place of the pillow, how his face would lay on your stomach, how his hot breath would fan over your skin, how good he would make you- 

“Don’t laugh at me.”, he whined. He hadn’t seen you stare. Thankfully. He would have been the one teasing long already, and you converted your eyes back to your laptop. Deep breaths. Taking deep. Deep. Breaths. 

“It is kinda funny, you have to admit.”, you breathed, huffing amusement past your nose. If you weren’t looking at him, teasing was far easier. And then he groaned again, deep, a little raspy, and it reminded you that, no, it was never easier with him. Your ears were as much slave to his eros as your eyes were, his voice as tantalising as his body was. He tsked, and you heard him ruffle again. “It’s not… fuck…”, he sighed, and a magnet pulled your eyes towards him. His own ones were buried in his elbow, as though hiding his face from you would make him less embarrassed, or less horny, or gave you less a reason to laugh at him. His brows scrunched, and he hummed before his body moved. Before his hips rolled a little into the mattress, into your mattress; at least that’s what you think they were doing. You couldn’t tell for sure under the thick blanket, but you knew him enough to guess. You knew the patterns of his muscles enough to recognize it, and you almost copied him, almost rubbed yourself against nothing, onto thin air. Another hum, and he moved to turn around again. 

“I’m so hard.” This time he said it with a self-deprecating laugh himself, hiding his face in his hand, and you wanted to lick it, each of his fingers, reminded of how he had pushed two of them past your lips under the shower. How he had looked at you while doing so. How he had fucked your mouth with them, slowly, making you gag on digits so long with eyes so hooded and dark that you had come moments later. You were sure the chair beneath you was wet now. Your panties sure as hell were. 

He looked up at you from beneath his lashes. Fuck. Hyunjin turned to his side, to face you, to be closer to you; his face contorted in pain or pleasure then, you couldn’t decipher, but it had the same effect on you anyways. One arm of his reached out, falling over the edge of the mattress. Calling you silently. Tempting you. 

“Please, babe. Come back to bed.”

You considered it. Your work wasn’t even half-way done and it was calling you, your laptop screaming your name loudly, but Hyunjin was screaming it louder. With his eyes, with his body. With his fingers that reached you, fanning over your shivering leg. Lulling you, intoxicating you. 

You considered it, but you only smiled at your lover. “I have to finish this, love.” You weren’t lying. But you wanted him at the very edge. Not normally the one to behave the way you did this moment, but you enjoyed it. You enjoyed the whine which tore through Hyunjin’s throat, frustrated and dissatisfied. As if you were all the salvation in the world. As if you were the only one capable of releasing him from the depths of hell. 

“Please. It hurts.” 

His words were but a whisper, pout written over his features, lips so plump and pink and you thought you heard him downright pant. Maybe he was at the very edge already, had been for longer you initially believed. 

You chuckled, feigning coyness, pretended to understand whatever the hell you had written on your Word Document when you looked at it again. The words were a blur, the meaning more so; you only felt Hyunjin’s fingers on your leg, pleading. 

“I have to finish this, babe. You can… relieve yourself. Can’t you?” Giving him a bashful look over the shoulder, and it was Hyunjin’s turn to laugh now. A deep laugh, not so much amused as surprised. He turned to lay on his back again; when you glinted over at his body, you believed to see the faint outline of his erection when the blanket betrayed him. He let his palm smooth over his body, over his stomach down to his abdomen, looking sultry while doing so, his body tensing due to his very own ministrations. He knew you were looking at him; and you really, really shouldn’t have. Because there was no way you would finish your work now.

“Oh yeah? You would like that, wouldn’t you? If I touched myself?”

As if to emphasize his words he let his hand wander further down, palming himself over his boxers. You could only half see, the blanket covering him mostly, but you saw enough. You saw his veiny hands on his sex, alluring, calling you when he gave himself a squeeze which tickled a moan out of him. You hummed in response; neither affirmative nor negative, and you heard Hyunjin turn around in your sheets again when you discarded your eyes from him completely. Felt his fingers on your calf again. Felt his hand – warm, slightly sweaty, trembling – close around your ankle then, suddenly, catching you off guard. He turned you around in your working chair and pulled you closer by your leg, and you giggled when you faced him, his face by your feet you rested on the edge of the bed, hand still enclosing your ankle. 

Something deep, something in the pit of your stomach fluttered when you watched Hyunjin look up at you. When you noticed how his touch felt on your skin. How it ignited you. How it weakened you. A gasp turned to a breathless chuckle when Hyunjin’s lips connected to the foot he yet held in his palm. One kiss atop it and his hand slid slightly upwards, up your calf, up where he knew you were sensitive. Always along the inner side, with fingers delicate, with touches featherlight because he knew you liked the way it tickled. He caressed your foot with his lips, giving it wet kisses. Along every inch and he loved the way you tensed beneath his touch. He loved to watch your brows furrow when he gave your toe a kitten lick before kissing it, lavishing, bathing in the feeling of you. In the intimacy you provided. In the fact that you allowed him to love you like this, so openly, so desperately. 

So obsessively. Hyunjin would say that a lot; that he was obsessed with you. Obsessed with everything about you. In between kisses he would whisper it into your ear, or mumble it into your neck before biting down at the skin there, or sighing it into your pussy when he couldn’t seem to disconnect from it for hours. You would hear it so often, and yet you never grew used to it. Initially, you failed to understand just how obsessed your lover was with you; because the first time he had kissed your foot – his hard erection had been deep inside you and one leg of yours had lay atop his shoulder so he could reach even deeper, and he had pecked it, mindlessly, as though a bodily instinct, a biological reaction – you had flinched, drew back your leg in surprise. He had apologized, you had reassured him. Had confronted him later, though; because you had been perplexed. 

“No.”, he had said, “it’s not a… fetish. I just love you. I don’t know.”, upon your question why he hadn’t told you sooner if this was something he liked. 

“I like that, though.”, he had breathed when you had looked embarrassed, that part of your surprise had been the sheer fact that you hadn’t prepared for it. That your feet had been calloused, wearing long weeks of work. Your nails had been cut carelessly, they hadn’t been painted. “I would have, like, gotten a pedicure, if you told me you were into that.” Hyunjin had shook his head, almost frantically. “I love the way they are right now. They’re… natural. They show how hard you work. That you, like… walk on this earth. I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

Not a fetish, you had realized then; adoration. He carried a deep adoration for your body. For every part of it. And ever since then you had understood his obsession a little better. 

So you let him kiss your feet now. Because he did so eagerly. Humming against your skin, lost in you as if kissing you, tickling you, licking and lapping you up was bringing him pleasure beyond human comprehension. And you could only watch, mesmerized. Baffled. That a man so beautiful loved you. That a man so perfect obsessed over you. That he now looked up at you, deer eyes beneath deep lashes, and he was breathless, panting. 

“Let me taste your pussy, please.” 

You hissed at his voice, at his hot breath against your ankle, at his brows which formed a line from how much he was frowning in frustration. You hissed from the implication of his words; no, not the implication. He wasn’t implying anything; he was downright begging. Shamelessly. Openly. For something so vulnerable, something which was so intimately, so carnally a part of you. He was begging for the most carnal part, and he was doing it so helplessly. So prettily. You thought he had never looked more beautiful than this. Than when he was loving you.

You nodded with heaving chest, spread your legs on the chair, shuffled forward a little; Hyunjin didn’t even bother with your underwear. He pulled your panties to the side, quickly, as though you were granting him a wish he would have never expected to come true, jaw hanging slack with anticipation, eyes blown out a deep black. He lapped you up. He didn’t wait for another word, didn’t waste another second. You gasped when you felt his mouth on your soaked warmth, now even warmer, now that he was breathing against you. Breathing deeply, breathing hotly. Whispering a low, throaty “Fuuck.” right into your pussy which muffled most of his noises, which absorbed all of them and made it her own. Which fluttered when he licked at your clit, mouth open so widely as though he couldn’t get enough of you. As though he would never taste you enough, never stuff himself enough with you, never be close enough to you. Mouth open so widely as though he wanted to inhale you whole, not only your sex, your clit, your wetness. You. To make you part of him, to make you connected to him through some sort of outer force.

It was when he kissed up and down your lips that you lost your heart a little. It was then when you noticed he was lost in his own pleasure. That he was kissing you because he wanted to kiss you. Not because he knew you liked it. Not solely. That he was making out with your pussy, mouth latching onto your labia, wandering up to the hood over your clit and down the puffy skin again to kiss near your slit because he was losing himself in you. Because he wasn’t even looking at you. Hyunjin’s eyes were closed, shut so tight the skin between his brows was wrinkled, his jaw trembling. His breath shaking against you. His deep grunts resonating somewhere deep inside your core. Depths only he ever reached. Only he was capable to.

When you moaned his name, called it out desperately and let it materialize in the room, letting it take space in the relative silence, he finally looked at you. Finally granted you his entire attention. Finally blessed you with the sight of him; eyes bloodshot, hooded, almost sleepy. Almost as if he had awoken from a trance. Hyunjin hummed in response, knowingly. Breathed you in deeper, licked a heavy stripe from your slit up. That was for you now. Now he was pushing your buttons, pushing them so knowingly, so aware it made you dizzy. He knew you, he chased your high with you.

His hand – big, warm, steady – pushed against your inner thigh, gently but you complied. You spread your legs further, granted Hyunjin more space. More space to make you feel good, more space to show love. He sucked at your clit, watching as you threw your head back. Smiling to no one but himself because he had expected it. Your legs twitched, your muscles spasming against your will, but you let them. Your right leg resting on the mattress lazily and Hyunjin played with it. Letting his fingers slide up and down your calf, always on the inner side, until he tickled at the underside of your knee, until you whined out and he knew to wander down with his fingers again. He caressed your ankle then. Scratching your skin with his nails, a little, slightly. Not enough to hurt, only to elicit wanted reaction; a hiss, a breath caught in your throat.

You hadn’t paid attention, so you didn’t know when exactly your foot touched Hyunjin’s erection, accidentally. You must have spread your legs just a little further – it was never enough, the pleasure he granted you intoxicating and you chased it with every nerve in your body, with everything you had in you – and you had only heard the heart-ripping moan from the man. So loud it scared you at first, before you understood, before you looked down at him, at his erection, at him again. Down his body, down his toned chest and tensed abdomen and at his erection again; you were able to see the wet patch on his boxers. The desperation in his eyes when you locked them again. He had put his own pleasure to the side for your own; and if he hadn’t lied to you about the pain, then he had been hurting for quite a while. Looking at you to just ease him off the pain. Any way you wanted to, any way possible, he didn’t care. As long as you eased him off it, as long as you freed him from the torment.

It was awkward, but you tried to get past his waistband with your toe. It must have tickled more than it did anything else because you caught Hyunjin’s skin shiver, the toned lines on his stomach protruding suddenly as the muscles there tightened. But he understood. Without breaking his lips off you, without even looking away from you – hungry eyes still following your every move, every expression in your face – he freed himself quickly with one hand, and your mouth filled with water you could barely keep behind your lips. You moaned out, too; simply at the sight of him, because he had shoved away his boxers so carelessly, because he was showing himself to you so readily, for you to take him with all you had. Even if it was pathetic. Even if he seemed desperate. Even if his precum was dripping down in thick beads onto your mattress, looking like a pearl necklace was adorning him. Hyunjin rolled his hips into nothing, searching for your touch when he saw the look in your eyes. The hunger there. When he saw how you bit your lip, how you cursed out.

“You’re not hard babe; you’re basically cumming.”

And Hyunjin hummed into your pussy, eyes closing, making him see stars, more even when you touched him. Delicate foot on his tip, and you didn’t even need to move; the man started chasing his high momentarily. He was so eager, grinding against the little contact of skin you granted him, but it was enough. And you knew he wouldn’t last long. His fingers dug into your thigh, his other feeling you up, feeling you everywhere, reaching to cup your breast above your shirt, higher up then when the lack of your skin disturbed him, when he found home on your neck, closed his palm around it softly.

You let your hand slide across his short hair, nails on his scalp at his touches. There wasn’t much to pull on anymore; Hyunjin had admitted that he missed the feeling, that the only downside to his new hairstyle was the fact you couldn’t tug at it anymore. He had admitted that he missed the pressure, the sting of pain. He had mumbled it into your neck while he’d been deep inside you, the very first day after he’d shaved it, after you’d confessed how good he looked. You had pulled him closer back then, had arched your back to connect your chest with his; Hyunjin had whined when your nails had dug into the sensitive skin of his scalp, and had kissed you feverishly after.

And he was now whining without control, too. Whining at the sting of pain, whining because he was so, so close, rolling and rolling himself against you, quick and quicker and with a body so tense, so shivering, so trembling. He was whining because he couldn’t get enough of your taste, of your scent, because as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Because he felt so, so good. But he wanted to watch you. He wanted to see your mouth while it breathed his name, while it fell slack before a scream ripped through it. Wanted to see how you threw your head back, how your body convulsed against him, back arching, thighs closing, your free hand finding the one he had on your throat. Because you needed something to hold on to. Because he knew you were so, so close. He felt you shake, your legs quiver, he heard his name out of your mouth a couple notes higher, a little breathier, a little more carnal. He loved it when you said his name like that. He loved how it sounded in your mouth, sensual, pleading. Sweet.

And he came. Without much warning, but with spasms, because he just couldn’t take it anymore. Not with how mindlessly your foot lay on his now softening cock, with how hard you were groping at him; not just his head, everywhere. How much closer you seemed to need him. He couldn’t help it with how you smelled, sweeter now that you were close and wetter, oh so wet, drowning his chin in your essence, and he didn’t bother to clean himself up. He let himself be wet; let his own release stick to his abdomen, let it trickle down to his hips, let his chin be wet with you, wettened it even more by pushing himself deeper into you, nose wet too now, lips long soaked, mouth so full of you he grunted deeply, lapped you up, sucked your clit; and he felt you cumming, too.

And he finally looked up at you, needed to see you. And the sight was heavenly, wishing he could look at you forever. When you were like this. When you moved like this. When you felt this good; felt this good because of him. Because of his mouth which drank you up, cleaned you, inhaled you. Your eyes in the back of your head, your face contracting, your jaw tightening so hard that it shivered, that your lips quivered with it. You were flush, your hair all over you; knowing you, Hyunjin was sure you wouldn’t like the sight of yourself, wouldn’t understand why he grew hard again simply watching you. Why his breath caught in his throat when you looked at him, lashes damp, lip spit-laced, and whispering your name because it was “Too much.”. Just because Hyunjin could never stop when he started. Because he never got enough of your taste, long after you finished. Because he always drove you over the edge a second, a third time, only until his jaw pained him, when his lips went numb. When his heart filled with you so much he swore he couldn’t take it; and yet swore greedily, swore selfishly, that it would never be enough. 

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @ppiri-bahng @cherrrywon @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @junebug032 @noellllslut @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

[tzyunaes]

HOLD ME , CONSOLE ME ⟡ CLINGY S/O

𝖲𝖴𝖢𝖢I𝖭𝖢𝖳 ‎ ✷ ‎  𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄.

[ 형선 ] 𓈒𓈒 bf!엔하이픈 ˖ 𝑓em!r g. fluff established relationship ──── EPHEMER𝒾S ( 74O ) cw. skinship && kissing.

jennifer says .. really mid and only hyung line cause i kinda ran out of ideas ://

LEE HEESEUNG──────the sun shone in its innate manner, basking a tranquil atmosphere. your head resting on your dear lover’s chest like it wasn't an annoying monday morning instead of a pleasant lazy sunday morning with your boyfriend.

he chuckled slightly when he saw you groaning by the realization and pulled you close, his arms curled around your waist, his eyes as observant as ever, “is my baby pouting?” he teased, not to mention how it only made your pout grow bigger.

“no. can you not go to work today please can you just stay here with me”, you murmured under your breath, drawing circles on his chest subconsciously and that's when he catches himself smiling faintly like a fool in love.

“you want me to stay here with you, doll? how about i give you two hundred and twenty two kisses and get out early from work tonight?” he whispered, already planting kisses all-over your face.

maybe to the point where he will achieve kissing your pouts away and exchanging into giggles.

PARK JONGSEONG──────you stare at your boyfriend from the couch as he got ready for office with a subtle pout on your face. he looked behind to face you as he fixed his tie for the last time, holding back the faint smile cause he didn't even need you to say it out aloud and already could tell what you were up to.

walking close to you, he cups your face with adoration in his eyes, “what, princess? don't want me to go to work?” he states rather than asking, noticing the frown on your face.

“no...why would i—” he cuts you off midway by leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “you know i would oblige if you just said the word, doll. anything it takes to wipe that pout off your pretty face.”

you looked away from him, a pink ray visible on your cheeks, “stop you're too cheesy.” you retort, sighing when you realized that he was being serious.

“you don't have to skip, baby. just bring me boba and—” “cuddles. and as many kisses as you want, baby.”

SIM JAEYUN──────your sigh fell warm on jake’s chest, he patted your hair in a tender and devoted manner when you nuzzled closer to him. he loved it when you were more affectionate than usual cause it gave him chances to express more of his clingy side. who could blame him, you were too adorable.

“why do you need to go to work...” you mumbled under your breath and he smiled, “i know right. that's exactly what im saying like fuck you mean i have to leave for work instead of cuddling my pretty wifey all day!” he murmured, his body pressed against yours. you giggled, his arms around your waist grew tighter.

“stop—” your words are interrupted by him planting dozens of kisses over your face. trailing down to your throat, he buried his face on the crook of your neck.

“okay i made my decision. i’m not going anywhere today,” he muttered between kisses and the seriousness in his voice would never let you second that.

PARK SUNGHOON──────sunghoon stared at you as you climbed on his lap facing him with amusement prepped on his face but his arms reached out to be wrapped around your waist. you stared at his eyes for a moment as if it was a staring competition before leaning in and prepping a peck on his cheeks.

a chuckle left his mouth when he finally understood what you were trying to do and pulled you closer for another kiss.

“trying to distract me from the fact that i have to go soon, baby? you know you don't have to try, right? i get distracted by you even when you're breathing, princess,” he says as he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck, your cheeks soon turned into a shade of pink by his teasing.

“that's not true, hoon. you're so wrong.” he just chuckled without another word and continued leaving kisses, although he was ready to leave for work.

with the last peck on your forehead, he got up, not forgetting to whisper, “don’t worry, angel, i'm gonna get out early for you.”

[sturnlsstuff]

MISSED YOU | chris sturniolo: part 2

pairing: dealer!chris x fem!reader

summary: after finishing deals for today, chris calls you to "check" on you, but he ends up coming over and making a mess on your couch.

warnings: mdni, smut, sub!chris, dom!reader, handjob, pet names, kinda bratty reader + more...

a/n: part one here!! didnt plan to do more than one part but yall seemed to like it so here it is. once again english isn't my first language so sorry for any mistakes

~~~~

chris wasn't planning to end up like this. on your couch, his hard throbbing dick leaking with precum aching for the release you refused to give him. it was such a pretty view for you. his brown hair was sticking out from under the hood of his black fresh love hoodie, his flushed cheeks and pink swollen lips, that he keeps biting to muffle his pathetic whines and moans, that escapes his mouth. all of this because of you. when he called you earlier, all he wanted was to actually check on you, since he was aware how much he wore you out after your last sex in his car two days ago. but you kept being sarcastic, your bratty attitude annoyed him, and he promised he'll come over once he's done with his deals, and then teach you how to keep your pretty little mouth shut. things took a different turn quick.

~~~~

(...)

"i'm tellin' you, ma, i just wanted to check on ya. why you so surprised, huh?" chris asks smirking and watching your cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, it was visible even through the screen.

"nothing, i'm just...." you sigh, deciding to finally change the topic. chris usually was texting you to ask if you're good if he went too hard on you, but he never calls. until now. "whatever, forget it. how long will you be there?"

"hmmm, i have two more people and then i'm done. what, you miss me?" he grins more when you roll your eyes in response.

"no, idiot, i don't.."

"that's interesting, sweetheart, you said somethin' else the last time we-"

"shut the fuck up." you cut him off, making his smirk widen.

"easy there, don't talk to me like that."

you roll your eyes again. "maybe go back working, what is your lazy ass doing on the phone, huh?"

"my lazy ass? you the one doin' nothin' all day on this couch while others are being productive."

"then come back to being productive, dickhead."

chris grins, narrowing his eyes. he was somewhere outside, you could barely see him because it was dark, but the light from the lantern fell on his face, highlighting his facial features. "careful, ma, don't get all arrogant on me. y'know if you were here right now, i'd shut your pretty mouth real quick."

"well, but i'm not with you there, soooo..."

"a'ight go back to lounging on the couch all day, watchin' those shitty ass movies." he looks up for a second, before looking down on his phone, you could hear some man's voice in the back.

"keep calling me lazy and i won't ever suck you off again." you raised your eyebrow, giving him a fake smile. he licks his lips, answering after a moment.

"oh c'mon, sweetheart, don't be a bitch."

"damn christopher, now you be callin' me a bitch? you're fucked." you shake your head, but a little smile is playing on your lips.

"stop acting all snarky and sarcastic, and maybe i will stop callin' you that."

"cry about it."

"keep it up, smartass, i'll make sure you gonna be the one cryin' when i come over."

you narrows your eyes, seeing his stupid smile on his face. "who said i will let you come over?"

"i'm finishing soon, see you there, ma. i'll be takin' out all that stupid words of yours, outta your pretty little mouth."

~~~~

he was asking himself, how did he end up with you making him whimper. when he stepped inside your house twenty minutes ago, he was so ready to make you regret talking to him like that, until he pulled you onto his lap and you started grinding down on him. he was trying to keep his control, but you just knew how to make him lose it.

all of this started because you told him he stole your outfit. you both were wearing black fresh love hoodies, the hood over your heads. the difference was you had grey sweatpants on and he had the black ones.

"no, YOU stole my outfit. you just copied me." he said to you, shaking his head with a grin.

"yes, 'cause the only thing on my mind is copying you."

"stop bein' childish"

"i am childish?" your eyes widen, looking at him as he's an idiot.

this banter quickly turned into you two making out and you teasing chris. your tongue sliding inside his mouth, your hips slowly moving, making a little bit of a friction. his dick was already hard, aching for your touch, but you weren't gonna give him what he wanted that fast.

"mmmhm, shit..." chris mutters against your lips, bucking up his hips but you quickly pressed them down with your hands, now breaking the kiss.

"oh, are u impatient?" you smile looking down at him. he opens his eyes, scanning your face for a bit, before reaching a hand to push your hood off your head and get a better look on your face. a little smile appears on his lips when he sees your messy hair. you press herself harder onto him, making him hiss.

"fffuck, ma, you gonna drive me insane-"

your hands travels under his hoodie, just running your long nails up and down his chest, before you start toying with the waistband of his sweatpants, continuing moving your hips.

chris watches you as you take your hand out from under his hoodie, and start to toy with the waist band of his sweatpants, he keeps staring up at you and his dick grows harder with every second.

“ughhhh...ffffuck i know exactly what you doin'..."

"yeah? what am i doing chris?" she plays innocent, keeping the eye contact with him and then she grinds against him more, his tip brushing against her pussy, making both of them whimper.

his lip between his teeth as he tries to control himself, but his cock is painfully sensitive, twitching in his pants. he puts his hands on the sides of your hips, pulling you down against him more as he groans a bit. you feel he's careful though, remembering he left bruises on your skin two days ago.

“shittt, you playin’ with me, mama.. stop doin' that"

"you want me to stop, hm?"

"ohh, no, don't stop doin' that, just... stop playin' with me.."

"and why would i?" she stops moving on him, her hand travels down and while looking him in the eyes, she starts stroking him through his sweatpants. chris lets out another quiet whine, throwing his head back on the couch, his dick leaking, begging for some kind of relief.

"cuz i'm hard as hell, it hurts"

she smiles, squeezing him slightly and answering after a moment. "that's cute."

"oh- fuckkkk, you fuckin' little tease-" he groans, closing his eyes for a moment.

you keep moving your hand, watching him trying so hard to hold back his moans, but he isn't able to. chris looks up at you, seeing how you’re so invested and watching him struggle and he feels you keep stroking him through his sweatpants, he’s so hard now from you just touching him like this.

"yeahhhh.. just like that.. oh god, that feels s'good..”

he groans softly again as you continue to stroke him through, he’s starting to leak more but his sweatpants are still in the way.

"ahh careful... you might cum in your pants." she smirks, biting her lip. she was getting more and more turned on just by watching him like this, but it wasn't about her today. today she needed to make him lose it.

he grins at you and he looks down seeing a small wet spot showing through on the sweatpants.

“i mean, you're doin' this to me, don't say that like it was my fault.."

"you can always hold back, y'know"

"oh, it's- fuck..." he cuts himself off when he sees you pulling down his sweatpants finally. "shiit, dont act all smartass again, y'know i cant when you do that to me-" he gulps, finishing his sentence but his whole focus is now directed on you.

your lip is between your teeth as you pull down his boxers, revealing his hard, aching, leaking with precum cock. you couldn't believe that you were the cause of his struggle, and that you could make him that desperate. you wrap your hand around him, rubbing his sensitive tip with your thumb and watching his reaction. he bites his lip, watching you, his tip twitching visibly and he moans again from your touch, he’s getting so much precum leaking out. he's fighting with himself, trying not to buck his hips up and start thrusting into your hand.

“ohhhh fucckkk.... shit please- just a little more... mmm, oh god.... ima cum if you keep doin' this-"

"what did you say?"

"fuck, p-please.."

"couldn't you said that sooner? you wouldn't be struggling so much..." she smiles hearing him begging and then starts slowly moving her hand up and down his length. she's still straddling him, his one hand digging into her thigh, and the other one on the couch to try and brace himself from how good it feels.

"s'good... fuck, so, so good..." he leans his head back, his eyes rolling back for a second as he gulps, but then he looks at you again, loving the sight in front of him, and also you just bring him closer to the edge.

"yeah? wanna cum already? how naughty.."

"oh- my god... mmmhh, please, mama- i'm so-"

your words just sets him off even more, his dick twitching in your hand as you now picks up your pace, making him groan. the way you're so dominant right now turns him on so much, he would never think he'd be liking it so much, but damn, he does.

"i... ughhh, you so good at this- fuck..." his fingers dig into your skin more, leaving new marks on your thighs, he's on the edge now.

"c'mon pretty boy, come for me, yeah?" you speed up your hand more, watching him intensely. your words stealing a louder moan from him, his dick twitches, he bucks up his hips and he releases all over himself. white strings of his cum on his black hoodie, all over your hand, his thighs and even on your couch. you have to bite on your lip to hold back a moan, while he squeezes his eyes for a moment, cursing under his breath. you slow down with your hand, stopping after a moment as he opens his eyes, looking up at you.

you smirk, making eye contact with him and slowly licking his cum from your hand. he groans in response, breathing heavily.

"damn, i might get hard again."

"freak."

"but you into it." he grins and pulls you into another sloppy kiss.

________________________

a/n: do we fw this or nah, lmk 🫦

[ham-st4r]

WRONG DOINGS L. HS

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: heeseung + fem reader!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, male masturbation, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral, male and female receiving, squirting, stepdad step daughter relationship, daddy kink, car sex, make up sex, mentions of stealing and cheating, home wrecking, infidelity, divorce, crying, abuse, violence, arguments, mentions of blood, cursing, bullying, reader kinda has daddy issues, heeseung gets caught masturbating by reader.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: stepcest, taboo relationship, slow burn.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After your mom got married to your stepdad heeseung, you both finally moved into his mansion together. There, you’ll face the same cruelty from your mother that you always have endless abuse and belittling. Still, when heeseung tries to treat you like his own and get closer to you, it only makes things worse not just for you but him as well, and one too many arguments with your mother leave you and heeseung both wanting more so much more than when she goes on vacation and leaves you both alone, it’s only a matter of time before the both of you commence in 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟖,𝟐𝟓𝟒𝐤

Sorry for the long wait. Thanks for being patient with me. I’m very disappointed with how this turned out, but I hope you guys will enjoy it

"Mom, can you help me with my homework?" You ask your mom meekly as you sit at the dinner table in the kitchen.

You had been struggling with your homework lately, and all you wanted was a little help and attention.

But she couldn't even give that much to you.

"No, absolutely not. No one helped me with mine, and I'm not going to be your crutch. Just stop being so lazy and pay attention." The harsh response was very much expected, but it never hurt any less.

You held your head low and picked at the corners of your notebook, sighing softly.

The relationship between you and your mother was never good, but you still tried to have some type of interaction with her cause you just wanted her love. You wanted her to care no matter how bad she treated you.

"Y/n," heeseung, your stepfather, called to you softly, but you sat up and went to your room. You hadn't exactly gotten a chance to get close to him yet, and you didn't want to be around a complete stranger while you felt like this. "I still don't understand why you find it necessary to talk to her like that," heeseung said to his wife once you got out of earshot.

"And I still don't understand why you're talking to me. You're not even her real father, so what does it have to do with you?" She gives him a stern look from across the dining table.

"Thank you for reminding me of that every two seconds." heeseung chuckled and took a drink of his orange juice. "Baby, I'm not trying to make you upset. I'm just not sure the way you handle things is best for our daughter," he continues.

"Again, she is my daughter, not yours. The way I handle things has zero to do with you," she responds.

Heeseung just sighed and kept his mouth shut after that.

Lately, he had been rethinking his whole marriage because the woman he proposed to was seemingly nowhere to be found.

As bad as that sounds, it was just an undeniable fact.

It was like overnight, his life turned completely upside down.

One minute, he's married to his dream girl, and the next, he's feeling stuck in an unhappy marriage with a stepdaughter who doesn't acknowledge him and a wife that rather be out all day than spend time with him on his days off.

"Where are you going?" He asked his wife as he watched her getting up from the kitchen table.

"Out," she answered without looking at him.

"Okay, where's out?" Heeseung stood up and made his way over to her in the living room.

"There's a new fashion outlet that opened downtown, and I want to check it out," she replies, sounding uninterested.

"Ooh, sounds like fun, can I come with? I'm free all day." he wrapped his hands around her waist from behind.

"No, I already planned to invite others." his grip on her waist loosened as he looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"Without even telling me?" He dropped his hands to his sides.

"Sorry, it must have slipped my mind." She quickly put her heels on and grabbed her purse by the front door. "Besides, it's all women's clothing anyways," she adds.

Heeseung sighed and folded his arms, watching his girl leave the house for what felt like the fifth time this week. "It's okay," he replies back, even though it really wasn't. "Can I at least get a kiss before you go?" He says with a smile.

She quickly rushes over and kisses his cheek. Before he could even say anything, she was already bolting out the door. "Be safe," he says to himself, going back to the kitchen and finishing his cold breakfast all alone.

You sat on your bed and stared at the sheets in front of you blankly. You had zero motivation to even get started on your homework after the way your mother spoke to you.

You're not sure if you'd ever be able to get rid of the hurt in your chest whenever she talked down to you, even after all these years.

You wiped your tears when you heard a soft knock on your bedroom door. "Y/n, can I come in?" You listen to your stepfather's voice from outside your room.

You straightened out your things a bit before allowing him to enter. "Come in," you said in a weak voice.

"Hey," he whispered with a half smile. "Would you like some help?" He offered while shutting the door.

"Uhh, no, I'm fine." You looked at all the untouched materials in front of you, and you were everything but fine.

"Oh, okay." heeseung turned around disappointedly and grabbed the door handle, but your voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Wait." You looked down at your lap and nervously fidgeted with your blankets. "I need help," you admitted to him.

He gave you a warm smile and made his way over to your bed, taking a seat. "Thank you for allowing me to help. I know it's been hard for you adjusting and everything with the new place and living with a total stranger." he laughed, and you smiled a little as the awkwardness between you two started to lessen just a tad. "But I just want you to know that you can come to me too, not just your mom. I'm perfectly friendly, I think?" He scratched his nape and chuckled.

"Okay," you nodded.

"And about earlier, I apolo-" you interrupted him.

"I don't want to talk about it," You quickly dismissed the said topic, and he puffed out a breath of air as his shoulders slumped down a bit.

You understand he was just trying to help, but you didn't need another dad or an apology right now, especially from someone who wasn't even to blame and even more so the fact he had no idea what had even been going on between you and your mother.

He didn't know about all the times she hit you for getting a low grade. He didn't know how she'd keep you up all night until you finished all the chores around the house, and he definitely didn't know that all this was going on behind his back when he left for work.

If he did, you're sure he wouldn't even be married to your mom, let alone welcome her into his lovely mansion of a home, cause from what you could tell, heeseung was far too kind for a woman like her.

"Okay, so let's see what we have he- oh," he chuckles at all the work you have piled up.

You lower your head down in embarrassment while he flips through all your disheveled homework.

"Don't worry, we'll have this done by midnight, and you won't have to worry your little head anymore." he ruffled your hair playfully.

You scrunch up your face and fix your hair while he laughs at you.

The clock had just struck midnight, and as promised, it was all finished. To your surprise, you got through half of it without his help. Honestly, you weren’t dumb when it came to school, so you didn’t really need a lot of help. You just wanted someone to take interest in you. "Thanks for all your help," you whisper shyly.

"Of course, if you ever need help with homework or anything in general, just let me know." he smiles softly at you and takes a look at his watch. "Are you hungry? We've been at it for quite some time now."

"A little," your stomach growls on cue, causing you both to laugh.

"There's a pizza spot down the road that stays open late. Does that sound good?" He offers, and you nod.

"I'd cook for you, but I'd probably burn the mansion down, and we can't have that happening," he laughed.

You both jumped in surprise when the door swung open, revealing your witch of a mother. Of course, she'd have to ruin the one decent interaction that you've had in years. "What is this?" She pointed back and forth between you and heeseung.

"I was just helping y/n with her homework, babe," heeseung sighed. He was already sleepy, and he didn't want to deal with her attitude right now.

"Helping? She doesn't need help. She can do it herself!" She yells at heeseung.

You lowered your head to hide the tears welling in your eyes, and what made it worse was that heeseung was being brought into your drama when he was completely innocent. "She shouldn't have to!" Heeseung yelled back. He was far more frustrated with his situation with his wife lately than the problem at hand, but he used this as an opportunity to lash out a bit. "Y/n, come on." he turned to you with a sympathetic look in his eyes, talking to you with a much calmer tone as he extended his hand out for you to take.

You stood up, reaching your hand out for his, but your mother's loud voice caused you to sit right back down.

"You!" she pointed at heeseung. "Get out! This is between me and her." heeseung looked at you, and you nodded your head weakly cause you weren't his problem to take on.

He didn't want to, but he honored your wish and left out of your room, going upstairs to wash up for the night and head to bed.

He knew he wasn't your biological father, but what was the harm in him just wanting to treat you decently?

His wife always had to go and blow everything out of proportion, making it seem like just cause he wasn't your real father, he couldn't look after you.

He thought it was ridiculous.

But maybe there was something he didn't know about going on between you. Maybe it was something that he had no business sticking his nose in.

He put his toothbrush away and patted his face dry. Once he was all finished, he turned off the bathroom light and went over to his side of the bed, trying to get some much-needed rest.

"So you try to seduce my husband behind my back? I always knew you were nothing but a little slut” your mother said with venom laced in her tone.

"No mo-" you tried to defend yourself to no avail.

"Be quiet." She walked over to your closet, pulling out a coat hanger, and locked the door to your bedroom.

You tried to hide under your blankets, but she quickly yanked them down to your ankles and whipped your bare legs repeatedly with the hanger, adding fresh welts to your already bruised skin.

You had to cup your mouth to muffle your screams and cries so you wouldn't alert heeseung to what was happening to you behind his back.

"Maybe this will teach you not to be such a fucking useless disrespectful whore” tears streamed down your cheeks from the pain she inflicted on you. "I didn't raise you like this." Her face was twisted in nothing but anger as she hit you countless times before finally putting an end to the abuse.

"Think twice before you try touching what's mine." You sobbed quietly and pulled your blankets over your head as she laughed at your poor state and left you crying alone in your room. You had no idea why she was accusing you of something you didn't even do.

She left you alone and went upstairs, joining heeseung in the bedroom, laying down beside him like nothing ever happened. "I didn't mean to make you mad, baby," she whispered softly as she held onto his waist. She kissed the back of his neck and tried to trail her hand to the front of his boxers, but he quickly gripped her wrist and stopped her from doing so.

"I forgive you, but I'm just not in the mood right now." he turned over to face her and pulled her into his chest, kissing her forehead softly. "Y/n's okay?" He asked while stroking her back.

"Yeah, I apologized," she flat-out lied.

"There's my girl," he smiled. "I'm proud of you, baby. I know things are difficult for us right now, but try not to get too stressed. I'm sorry too, okay? We still just have to adjust to some things."

"Okay," she muttered back and discreetly rolled her eyes.

"Goodnight, baby," he whispered after a couple of minutes.

"Night," she murmured.

When you woke up the next day, you immediately winced in pain.

You tried to move the covers back, but you couldn't cause they were stuck to your legs from all the dried-up blood. Normally, you would have tried to bandage yourself up, but you didn't have the willpower to last night after everything occurred.

You slowly peeled the blanket back as tears gathered in your eyes from the pain.

You let out a shaky breath once you had finally removed the material.

Tears leaked down your cheeks as you saw the wounds. You could barely even stand up without pain, but you managed to somehow.

You went to the bathroom and grabbed your first aid kit, cleaning off all the dried-up blood.

Once the blood was gone, you applied some ointment and gauze, praying that the cuts wouldn't get infected this time around like before.

You got ready for school and waited in bed until it was time to leave.

"Is y/n coming down for breakfast?" Heeseung inquired to his wife, remembering you didn't get to eat last night, so you must have still been pretty hungry.

She just shrugged her shoulders and finished making her iced coffee.

Heeseung sighed and went upstairs to check on you himself. He knocked softly just in case you might still be asleep since you both stayed up so late last night. “Y/n?” He called your name quietly.

When he didn't get a response, he peeked his head inside the door and saw you still sleeping. He smiled pitifully and closed the door before going back downstairs, only to see his wife all dressed up and ready to head out.

"Let me guess out?" He said half-jokingly, half serious. "Come here and give me a kiss before you leave." She walked over to him and pecked his cheek like usual. "That's not a real kiss. I mean one like this." he smiled and gripped her backside in his palms, groping the soft flesh as he stuck his tongue inside her mouth and kissed her eagerly. It's been months since the last time he had sex with her, and his neediness for her was definitely showing in the heated kiss. "Like that," he pulled back with a small smirk on his lips. "Come back soon so I can give you a little surprise" he bit his lip and spanked her ass.

"Yes, Mr. Lee," she said flirtatiously and winked at him before releasing herself from his hold and going out the door.

Needless to say, heeseung couldn't wait til tonight.

He was standing in the living room, a smile still lingering on his face, when you came downstairs. He whipped his head in your direction when he heard your footsteps. "Morning! You scared me," he laughed.

You forced a smile and tried your best not to limp downstairs. The last thing you wanted was to raise any suspicion.

"Your mom just left, but I could pick you up something for breakfast since you're probably still hungry from last night." You knew it was just a polite offer from him, but the mention of last night made you flinch in horror, and the worried look that took over your face was hard not to miss.

"N-no thanks," you declined.

"Do you at least want a ride?" You just shook your head and limped to the front door. "Y/n, Is everything alright?" He asked you worriedly. You weren't like this at all last night, so what changed so drastically? As far as he knew, You guys apologized and made up.

You didn't respond back and walked out the door, leaving him standing in the middle of the living room, confused.

You had gotten home from another terrible day at school, which was nothing new to you just like everything else in your life.

You opened the door with your house key. Once you got inside, you saw heeseung lying on the couch asleep while some random TV show was on.

You twisted the knob and shut the door quietly while slipping your shoes off.

After you hung up your backpack, you went over to the kitchen to make something to eat since you hadn't eaten all day.

You collected all the ingredients from the refrigerator to make a proper meal for yourself.

As you were preparing the vegetables, you decided to cut extra in case heeseung was hungry when he woke up. You felt bad about the way you treated him this morning, especially cause it wasn't even his fault, so the least you could do was make him a meal as an apology.

You quietly moved around in the kitchen so you wouldn't wake him, and after about thirty minutes, everything was ready. You turned off the stove and put away some extras in a glass container, setting it on the table where heeseung usually sits before going to your room to eat. You never liked eating at the table. It always brought back too many memories that you wished you could forget.

It was midnight when Heeseung finally woke up. He stretched out on the sofa as his eyes wandered to the big wall clock above the TV. "Damn," he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

All the lights were off, so he assumed everyone was already asleep.

He went to the kitchen to grab some water from the fridge but halted when his eyes landed on the container of food you had prepared for him. "Ooh," he opened the lid, scanning all the different foods inside, and his mouth watered instantly.

He grabbed his water from the fridge and sat down at his spot before grabbing the fork placed neatly beside the container. "Thank you, baby." he smiled happily and dug into his food, and he was not disappointed at all. He hasn't had a good home-cooked meal for a while, and this definitely hit the spot.

He wasn't complaining about not having food when he came home from work cause he knew that his wife was busy with her own things, but he couldn't deny he'd love it if he had a meal cooked by his wife more than just a few times a month.

He ate every last morsel, not letting anything go to waste. After he finished dinner, he washed the container and put it inside the dish rack.

He headed upstairs to wash up before going to sleep. After washing his face and brushing his teeth, he removed his pants and t-shirt, slipping into bed next to his beautiful wife. "Thank you for dinner, baby." he draped his arm around his wife's waist and kissed the crown of her head. "Goodnight," he whispers while shutting his eyes and falling asleep a little while later.

Heeseung had gotten up earlier than usual since he slept all day yesterday. He pulled his sheets back and stepped out of bed, going straight to the bathroom and taking a quick shower to get freshened up and ready for work.

He sighed as he tucked his dress shirt into his pants. Those two days off weren't quite enough after all the hours he's been putting in lately, but luckily, he had some vacation time, and he planned on putting it to good use very soon.

He kissed his wife on the cheek before shutting the door behind him quietly so he wouldn't wake his sleeping beauty.

You jumped slightly when you heard footsteps coming downstairs, but you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that it was only heeseung and not your mom.

"Oh! Good morning, y/n!" Heeseung smiled widely, and he was surprised to see you up this early.

"Morning," you reply and turn back to the stove to finish your meal. You had a few leftover ingredients from last night, so you decided to just take it for lunch at school today.

"Smells good," he chimed as he caught a whiff of whatever you were cooking. After a few moments, it dawned on him that the smell was very similar to the food he had the night prior, and his eyebrows creased in confusion once you set down the plate of food. "Did you… Did you cook last night?"

"Yes," you answered quietly, hoping he wasn't going to say that it was bad or something like that.

"Hmm," he nodded to himself as he realized that it wasn't his wife who cooked and that it was you all along, which left him greatly disappointed, but either way, it was still good, and he appreciated you for it. "It was delicious, thank you."

"You're welcome." You gave him a small smile.

He walked near you, reaching into the cabinet to grab a bag of ground coffee. "So, how's school been?" He asked while making his cup of coffee.

"Good," you said simply.

"Just remember, if you need any help, you can always come to me," he assured you.

You nodded your head while getting your food ready for school.

"Leaving so soon?" He questioned while rolling up his suit jacket sleeve and checking the time.

The truth is you just didn't want to face your mother after the other night, so if that meant waking up hours earlier than her and going to school early, then that's what you were going to do to avoid her at all costs.

"You know what, I'm up early. You're up early, so why don't you let me drive you?" He says while pouring his piping hot coffee into a travel mug.

"It's fine." he didn't listen and just grabbed his keys from the hook so he could drive you to school.

He knew you and your mother were not on great terms as of late, but he wanted to take it upon himself to be of some type of assistance to you cause he could obviously see that you weren't feeling all that well lately and what type of person would he have to be to just sit on the sidelines and watch someone go through something like that alone?

"Come on!" He held the front door open for you.

Needless to say, the whole car ride was dead silent. It wasn't that you didn't want to talk to him. It was just weird because he was basically a whole stranger driving you to school.

He put on some music to make the silence less awkward. He occasionally hummed along while tapping the steering wheel.

After maybe eight minutes, give or take, you two arrived. He pulled right up to the curb, unlocking your door so you could get out.

"See you later. Have fun!" He gave you a small wave while you thanked him for dropping you.

There was still at least half an hour before he had work, so he stopped to grab some breakfast for himself.

He dialed his wife's number and frowned. When the call went to voicemail, he assumed she was probably still asleep.

So he texted her instead.

Heeseung: Morning, baby! I miss you :(

He took a picture of the lousy breakfast sandwich he got. The bread was limp, the bacon was undercooked, and the egg tasted fake.

He chuckled and sent it to his wife.

Heeseung: Not even close to being as good as the one you make.

After the second bite, he didn't even bother finishing it, and he opened up the text messages with his wife again.

Heeseung: I'm missing you so bad right now, and it's not even afternoon. Baby, call me when you get this.

He put his phone in the passenger seat and drove out of the restaurant parking lot, heading to work.

School was unbearable like it always was, but you were just thankful that it was finally over with. You went upstairs and changed out of your old bandages. Luckily, nothing was infected, but it still looked like it'd take a little while to heal.

You changed into some comfortable clothes and lay down in bed. You would have cried, but you had no more tears left to cry.

The cycle had been going on for so long that you grew accustomed to it. It was just another part of your tiresome routine.

You tucked yourself inside your blanket and sighed deeply before shutting your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Heeseung was in the middle of working when he got a text from his wife.

Best wife in the whole world💍: Can't wait for you to get home.

She attached a photo of her in a lacy black outfit with the straps pulled down but not enough to show too much.

He bit his lip when he saw the photo and quickly replied.

Heeseung: My wife looks so sexy😍

Best wife in the whole world💍: Hurry home soon.

Heeseung: You got it, baby. I'm gonna see if I can get out early tonight just for you😉

She left his text on read, and he shut his phone off so he could focus back on his work.

Five hours passed quicker than he expected, and he did get his work finished in time so he could leave a little sooner.

Heeseung: On my way, baby. I can't wait to see you.

He texted on his way to his car. He unlocked the door and put on his seat belt, heading home after another stressful day of work.

"Baby!" He called out while he loosened his tie and slipped his shoes off at the door.

He went to the kitchen, setting his suitcase on the table and hanging his jacket on the back of the chair. "Baby?" He called while walking upstairs and opened his bedroom door. "Baby, I'm ho-" he stopped mid-sentence when he saw that she was already fast asleep. "Are you kidding me?" He whined as he closed the door and went back downstairs. "So much for that idea," he sighed as he went to the kitchen to make some ramen for himself. Since it was still early, he decided to watch some TV until he felt sleepy.

You stirred in your sleep and rolled over on your bed, opening your eyes to see your alarm clock that read half past midnight.

You turned on your back and sighed while staring at the ceiling. You knew you shouldn't be eating this late, but you felt extremely hungry cause, after all, you did only eat one time today.

You went downstairs to make a midnight snack. Once you reached the end of the stairs, you noticed the lights were off, but the TV was still on. Your eyes traveled to the couch, where you saw heeseung lying down fast asleep.

With a tiny shake of your head, you went to the refrigerator, grabbing an apple, taking a bite while going to the living room, and turning off the TV before draping a blanket over heeseung's exhausted-looking body.

You went back to bed and finished your apple. There wasn't much to do other than a little more homework, and when that was all finished, you curled back up in your bed and went back to sleep for the night.

This same boring pattern repeated itself. Your mom was always out of the house spending heeseung's money that she stole from him right under his nose. heeseung would go to work, come home late, and go to sleep on the sofa while you went to school, did homework, and went to sleep.

Heeseung was currently sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for his wife to come down.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat when he heard yelling upstairs. He started to go up there, but he already knew what the outcome would be. "She's not your daughter. You don't know what's best for her, blah blah blah."

After a couple of minutes, the yelling had quieted down, and he cleared his throat as his wife came down the stairs. "Is y/n having breakfast with us?" He asked while scrolling through some emails on his phone.

"No," he set his phone aside and looked at his wife.

"Why not?" No matter what was going on between you and your mother, you still made it a point to come down for breakfast every morning, so you skipping these past few days was unusual to him.

"Cause she didn't clean and she barely did any homework, she doesn't deserve a meal," his wife stated, seemingly unbothered.

"Baby…" he sighed. "Don't you think you're being unreasonable here? I understand where you're coming from, but what you're doing is a bit too much."

"Too much?" She scoffed. "What would you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I already know I'm not her real dad," he said, annoyed, but he didn't have to be a parent to know that what was happening was not right.

"Excuse you? Who do you think you're talking to like that?" She responds, and he can tell from her tone that she was starting to get annoyed, too.

"I didn't mean it like that, oka-" he tried to explain himself but got interrupted.

"No, I think that's exactly how you meant it." She tossed her dishcloth on the table. "You're taking her side over mine."

"I never said anything about sides. You're getting me all wrong here. All I'm saying is to go easy on her," he reasoned calmly. The last thing he wanted was to argue this early in the morning.

"She's already a lost cause. Going easy on her would make her completely useless," she says, unrelenting with her hateful words towards you.

Heeseung's face morphed in absolute disgust at the distasteful words coming from his wife's mouth. How could someone talk about their own daughter that way? He wasn't even your real dad, and he would never talk about you like that to anyone, let alone his significant other. "Well, I'm sure if you just helped her out here and there, it might not be that way," he said dryly.

"So you're saying this is my fault?" She twisted his words once again.

"You're putting words into my mouth. What I'm saying is maybe try helping her out a bit, that's all." he put his hands up in defense.

"No one ever helped me, and I turned out perfectly fine.” She just comes up with excuse after excuse.

"Really? First of all, she's not you, and all I've ever seen was her politely asking for your help. She's trying, but when you shut her down and tell her that she's useless, how do you think she's going to feel? I sure know I wouldn't be motivated by that" if the conversation kept going in this direction. It was only a matter of time before things got out of hand.

"You really must be dumb to think that way," she mumbles under her breath.

"What did you just say to me?" He stood up from his chair and walked over to where she was standing.

She stood up straight and stared him in the face, repeating her words. "I said you must be du-"

"Do not dare say that to me again. You're under my roof, and I've never once said one thing disrespectful to you." he looked at her with a cold stare in his eyes. "Now I'm done having this conversation with you. Go get y/n, and I don't want to hear another word from you."

Her eyes shook in fear as he made his way back to his chair, and she scampered upstairs to tell you that breakfast would be ready soon.

You came downstairs a few minutes later and sat at the table per your mother's request. You picked your fork up timidly, and heeseung didn't miss the way your hands shook when you lifted the fork to your lips.

He sighed and glared at his wife, shaking his head in disapproval. "So, y/n, how are you doing with school? Do you have any homework you need help with?"

Your mother scoffed and rolled her eyes, and you just stayed silent.

Heeseung patted your shoulder, encouraging you to speak. Your eyes flickered over to your mom, and she was already looking at you with an evil glare.

You quickly shook heeseung's hand off your shoulder. "I-it's fine, I-I'm fine," you stuttered nervously.

"Y/n, will you excuse us?" Heeseung asked you, and you nodded your head timidly. "Babe, I need to have a word with you upstairs." he sat up from his seat and walked upstairs with his wife following soon after.

"You mind telling me what the hell is going on?" Heeseung asked as he leaned against the wall with his arms folded.

"Nothing to concern yourself wi-"

"That's bullshit, and you know it!" Heeseung cut her off.

You were still at the table when you heard heeseung yelling from upstairs. You flinched and wrapped your arms around your body attempting to somewhat comfort yourself.

"She's afraid to even come downstairs. She was literally shaking at the table. What the fuck did you say to her?" He asked as he felt his anger rising.

"I didn't say anything," his wife replied carelessly.

"So she's just been avoiding you for no reason. Is that what you're telling me?" He says losing his temper.

"I'll tell you the reason it's cause she doesn't want to be responsible. She fails all her tests, her room is filthy, and she doesn't take care of anything around the house," she continues with her same old reasoning.

Heeseung sighed in frustration. "At this point, I don't know what to tell you cause everything I say is going in one ear and out the other."

"I understand what you're saying perfectly fine you're taking that bitches side over mine!" she shouts.

"Don't call her that again!" His voice was so loud it easily overpowered hers.

You covered your ears and ran upstairs, locking yourself in your room and hiding under your covers. It felt like deja vu all over again when your mom and dad used to fight. Even though your dad left you and they were divorced, it felt like you were in that same situation all over again.

Heeseung instantly regretted getting loud like that, and when he saw the scared look on his wife's face, he quickly apologized. "Babe, I'm sorry." he walked closer to her and wrapped his arms around her shaking body. "Shh, please don't cry, baby. I'm so sorry." he rubbed her back softly as she encircled her arms around his waist. "Look at me, sweetheart." he gripped her chin with his thumb and index finger tilting her head up so he could look into her watery eyes. "I won't ever lash out on you like that again, okay?" He used his thumb to swipe the tears off her cheeks.

"Okay," she whispers softly.

"Let's just try to get along from now on, yeah?" He pecked her lips, and she nodded her head. "I'm sorry," he pouted. "I'm a big fat jerk, aren't I?" He said to lighten the mood and got a small chuckle from her in response.

"You are," she smiles, knowing her little victim tactic was working on him.

"But I'm your big fat jerk." he smiled and backed her up until she reached the bed frame and laid her down on the bed gently. "Let me make it up to you, yeah?" he whispered and got down on his knees.

"Wait," she sat up on the bed and held his hands.

"What is it, baby?" He gave her a concerned look and rubbed small circles on her thighs.

"It's late. I have to get going." She made an excuse like she always did, just so she didn't have to do anything with him.

"Baby…." He sighed disappointingly as she got up from the bed. "You have to be kidding me." he stood up with a clear look of annoyance on his face.

"Sorry, love, but I have to go, or else I'll be late." She kissed his cheek before leaving the bedroom.

He flopped down on the mattress and sighed. “Bye,” he muttered to himself.

Maybe he was overthinking things, but he was starting to feel a bit undesirable. He hadn't had sex with his wife since the wedding, and that was months ago. He didn't want to ever think this way, but he couldn't help it, and he was starting to think he didn't know how to please his woman anymore.

Before the wedding, it was multiple times a week, and he wasn't always the only one initiating either. If anything, she initiated more than he did, but after getting married, his love life seemed nonexistent.

It's almost like the wedding was what made his life complicated. Everything was completely fine before, but now there seemed to be so many other things to account for, and maybe it was his fault for not preparing to have two more people living under his roof, but either way, things had been taking a toll on him lately.

He ran his fingers through his hair and got out of bed, figuring he should probably go check on you after his outburst earlier.

“Y/n?” He knocked on your door softly, waiting for you to answer.

"Y-yeah?" You stuttered, still a bit shaken from what happened earlier.

"I'm sorry about earlier. Can I come in?" He rested his forehead on the door when you didn't respond. He sighed before opening it, and he felt terrible when he saw you balled up under the blankets.

He invited himself in and sat down at the foot of your bed. "Your mom left a little while ago, but I want to apologize on her behalf and for what I did earlier." You instantly felt relieved when you found out that your mom was gone, but it'd take a while for you to get over what just occurred. "We patched things up, so don't worry, okay?"

He patted your shoulder before getting up from your bed and walking to the door. "I took the day off from work, so if you need anything, I'll be here." he gave you a half smile and left you alone just in case you wanted some time to yourself.

He went back to his room and took off his work clothes, after calling in, stripping down to nothing but his underwear before lying down on the bed.

Deciding to kill some time he scrolled through his phone for a while. And after that got boring, he turned it off opting to read a book instead.

Some hours had passed since heeseung came to check on you, and you were feeling a lot better. You were glad to know that he and your mom were able to talk things out cause you wouldn't be able to take getting yelled at by your mom and having to hear her yell at him, too.

You looked to your left, and it was the same old story a stack of homework needed to be done, but since heeseung was willing to help you, you decided to take him up on his offer if he was still awake that is.

Heeseung sighed as he set the book he was reading aside. He was bored out of his mind. You were mad at him, and his wife was gone, and there was nothing else to do.

But there was actually one thing he could do since he finally did have some alone time. He wasn't going to let it go to waste. Besides, he was stressed, and he needed some relief cause his wife wasn't doing it for him.

A feeling of guilt rose in his chest for getting off without his wife, but he couldn't wait any longer cause she had been putting him off for months now.

He placed his hand over his crotch and pressed down gently, hissing from the sensitivity when he felt himself shiver from the slight touch. He realized just how long it’s been since he last masturbated.

Shimmying out of his boxers, he revealed his soft cock squeezing his base and working his hand lower until he reached the tip. "Fuck” he breathed out as he swirled his palm around the head of his cock softly.

Reaching inside his bedside drawer he pulled out a bottle of lotion, pumping a few squirts in his hand, rubbing it up and down, coating his thick length.

"Mmm, that's so good" he tilted his head to the side slightly and pursed his lips as he watched his dick getting harder with every stroke.

He pumped his length faster, groaning quietly as sticky sounds filled up his quiet bedroom.

He licked the pad of his index finger and placed it on his left nipple, rubbing it in small circles. “Just like that” he bucked his hips up and fucked his cock into his fist.

He swallowed thickly, forehead damp with sweat already as he circled the tip with his thumb and index finger, jerking his cock faster and faster. “Oh shit,” he moaned, slowing his pace, panting as he edged himself and biting on his lip while squeezing his balls with his left hand.

His hips jerked upward, and he couldn’t resist the urge to fuck into his palm faster. He brought his hand up to his mouth and spit on it, smearing the sticky substance all over his full sack. “Oh my fucking god,” he breathed out shakily. “Fuck me” he kept going and going until the feeling of arousal in the pit of his stomach was seconds away from bursting.

You went down the hall quietly and decided to just peek inside his door in case he was asleep cause you didn’t want to bother him with your problems. “Fuck fuck fuck” you heard as soon as you opened his door. You gasped at the sight before your eyes, covering your mouth as you stood there frozen in the doorway.

“Y/n?” He looked at you wide-eyed, confused and panicked when he saw you standing in the doorway. By the time he noticed you, it was far too late, and he couldn’t stop himself from cumming long white spurts of cum. “Mmh fuck!” he whimpered at the feeling, his abdomen tightening as he tried to grab his blankets and cover up the rest of his release.

You watched as thick ropes of cum shot out of his pink tip, and that must have brought you back to reality cause you ran back to your room, clutching your heart while trying to catch your breath.

Heeseung rested his head against the backboard of his bed, panting loudly. “Fuck” he knew he really screwed up by not locking the door, but he thought you’d be asleep by now.

He had an internal debate with himself about whether he should go and talk to you or just leave it be, but he supposed he should get it over with while it was still fresh cause the longer he avoided it, the more awkward it would be, and he didn’t want you dodging him because you had caught him touching himself.

He got out of bed and went to the bathroom, putting a clean rag underneath the faucet and running warm water on it to wipe his shaft clean before changing into a new pair of boxers and shorts, along with a shirt.

He prayed that he didn’t scar you with that image, and not to say it’d make it any better, but the fact you came in right as he was cumming was like the worst-case scenario.

“That’s so embarrassing,” he facepalmed and knocked on your door.

You sat on your bed replaying that image of your stepdad over and over again, seemingly not being able to get the sight of his cock out of your mind, and you felt so terrible cause you think deep down there was a part of you that actually enjoyed seeing him like that.

The more you thought about it, the louder the words your mother called you rang in your head, and maybe she was right about you. Maybe you were just a slut cause what kind of step daughter would look at her stepdad in a sexual way.

You buried your face in your hands but quickly sat up straight when the knock on your door brought you back to reality. “Y/n, about what happened just now, I’m uhh, I’m really sorry,” he scratched the tip of his nose uncomfortably while standing in your doorway.

You did your utmost best to hide the flustered look on your face. You understood why he was apologizing, but he didn’t need to cause to you there was nothing to apologize for, at least not to you anyway. “It’s okay,” you smiled at him shyly.

“So, did you need me for something?” He asked and clears his throat, hoping to gloss over the whole situation entirely.

You nodded and showed him your homework. He was thankful that you still even wanted to be around him after what you saw, and he was more than willing to help you out.

“Okay, let’s get started then.” he sat next to you like the other night, but something about the way his knee was brushing your thigh made a little something stir inside you.

You could hardly focus on what he was teaching you cause you were too busy staring at his body. You could see his hard nipples peeking through his white t-shirt, and your eyes flashed to his smooth-looking thighs. His shorts had ridden up a bit, revealing the flesh to your eyes.

“Are you getting the hang of it a little better now?” He asked once he finished explaining, and you shook your head back and forth as he just smiled and dropped his head in defeat. “Well, it’s getting late. Would you like to pick this up tomorrow night after I get home from work?”

“Sure,” you agreed with a small smile. “Goodnight, heeseung,” you whispered shyly.

He turned around and looked at you with a pleasant smile on his face. “Goodnight, y/n. Get some rest, okay?” You nodded, and he closed your door, going back inside his room to an empty bed, but he wasn’t expecting any less. He took off his shorts and laid down on the bed, falling asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow.

“Wow, it’s only eleven, and we’re already done,” heeseung smiled at you. He had just gotten off of work and was helping you with your homework like he promised you last night. “I’m proud of you, kiddo.” he patted your head like you were a little kid, and you pouted. “Now, next week, I want you to finish at least half, and I’ll do the other half deal?”

“Only if you stay a little longer,” you said and inched closer to him. To your luck, he didn’t seem to notice.

“Why?” He asked to his knowledge all your work was done.

“Just help me organize a little,” you said sheepishly.

“Fine, okay, but promise me you’ll clean your room after? It looks like a tornado came by,” he laughed.

“Stop,” you giggled and pushed his shoulder.

He smiled at the simple interaction between the two of you, feeling happy that you were finally opening up to him and accepting him in your life.

“Fine, I’ll be quiet.” he put his hands up in defense while laughing softly.

After you were both done organizing all the mess, heeseung’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “Hey baby,” he answers the phone while holding up his finger for you to give him a minute. “Not for another hour?” he frowned. “Okay, I’ll see you later, love,” he hung up the phone. “That was your mom. She said she won’t be back until later, so…” he said sadly. He knew she was busy working on her own things, but the constant coming home late for the past few months was getting to be quite annoying to him.

The time he had with his wife was basically nothing. He was starting to feel lonely every single day and night. The only thing that kinda cheered him up was coming home and getting closer to you, but that didn’t make up for all the lost time with his lover.

You noticed his sad expression, and you felt bad cause you knew exactly how he was feeling. One thing you knew about your mother was every day after work, she went out to drink, leaving you sad and alone, before she met heeseung, she hooked up with men at the bar, and you’re sure she is still doing that to this very day cause nothing about her has changed, not even after getting married to a guy like heeseung.

She was a lost cause ever since the day you’ve known her. Maybe that’s why your real dad divorced her, but you can’t say you thought very highly of him because he left you all alone with her.

While heeseung was sulking at her absence, she was probably wasted and in the passenger seat of some random guy's car. That’s just the type of girl your mom was, sadly.

You still don’t understand how she managed to get a guy like heeseung, so far from what you’ve seen. He was sweet, caring, and thoughtful. You hadn’t known him for long, but he seemed like a good man.

And you knew it would probably crush him if he found out that she was stealing money from his drawer behind his back and talking about him to her friends. You didn’t have the heart to tell him either besides, it wasn’t your business to get into. “I’m actually not feeling too well.” he left your room quietly with his head hung low.

Since he was always trying to cheer you up, you decided to return the favor since he liked the dinner you made for him the other day you were going to cook for him. You knew he always ate out most of the time, and that wasn’t nurturing for a hard-working man like himself.

You left your room and knocked on his door. “Hey, I’m gonna go out for a while, just so you know,” you informed him.

“Want me to drive you? I don’t mind,” he suggests.

“Nope, I’m good.” You politely refuse his offer cause you just wanted him to have a break.

“Oh,” he sighed, feeling even more useless than he usually does. “Be safe, yeah?”

“I will!” You smiled and shut his door.

“I guess I’m not needed by anyone,” he mutters to himself, and he can’t help but overthink things about his relationship and marriage with his wife. Things had just been progressively going downhill, and he didn’t even know why. “Whatever.” he rubbed his eyes and laid back on his bed. There was nothing else to do, so he decided he might as well get some rest for work tomorrow.

About an hour later, he unfortunately woke up from his nap and went downstairs to see you in the kitchen. “Mom not home yet?” He asks as he sat down at the kitchen table.

You shook your head back and forth, and you were getting slightly annoyed by him talking about her all day. “I cooked dinner for you since she’s not here to do it for you,” you added to show him that you could be there for him when she wasn’t.

“Wow, okay!” He laughed. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” he said once you placed the plate down in front of him.

You bit your lip to hide your satisfied smile. “I’m glad.” You poured him a glass of water and sat it down next to his plate.

“Thank you,” he grinned before digging into the food you cooked for him. “Mmm, it’s good.” he nodded his head approvingly as he piled up his fork with another big bite.

“You’re welcome.” You walked behind his chair and placed your hands on his big shoulders, giving him a small massage.

“Oh,” he chuckled airily. “What did I do to deserve this king treatment?” He asked with an amused tone.

“Oh, nothing. You’re just always doing things for me, so I decided to return the favor.” You used the pads of your thumbs to massage out the tension in his neck.

“It’s nothing for me, really, so you don’t need to,” he assures.

“But I want to,” you whisper and place your hands lower on his back.

“Mmm, that feels so good,” he sighed in relief as his eyes fell shut.

“Yeah?” You applied more pressure, and he groaned when you hit an extra sore spot.

“Yeah, it does feel good.” he leaned forward in his chair so you could reach further down his back. It’s been a really, really long time since he’s gotten a massage, and your hands worked wonders on him. “Really good”

Once you got done with his back, you trailed your hands around his waist and up his wide chest, massaging his hard pecs.

Though what you were doing felt good, it was a bit awkward for him, and it didn’t feel quite right. “Umm, aren’t you gonna eat?” He asked you. “I mean, your food will probably get cold, so you should eat.” he cleared his throat as you sat down at the table. “Thanks again for this.” he smiled at you, but you didn’t look at him because of the way he basically told you off.

You ate in silence, and once you were done, you went to your room and left him at the table, confused once again by your ever-changing behavior towards him.

After that initial strangeness on your end, you and heeseung started to get along better despite your little mood changes whenever he brought up your mom. You knew he was married to her, but she didn’t act like his wife nor service him the way you did, so why wasn’t he looking at you? You did everything and more for him, but you still weren’t getting the affection from him that you craved.

You wanted him to praise you for doing your homework and tell you you did a good job when you cleaned, but he merely thanked you and went on about his day. You knew it was irrational to want him to feel the same way you felt about him for you.

But you couldn’t help it, and you chalked it up to having a terrible childhood. You didn’t get love from your parents, and you always got bullied at school, so when the first person started showing you any ounce of decency, you wanted more and more, and you were willing to do whatever it took to make heeseung notice your efforts.

And since your mom was going on vacation today, this would be the perfect time to make your move.

“Why do you never tell me about these things?!” Heeseung shouted at his wife angrily. “All you do is run out of the house. You barely tell me what you’re doing, and you ignore me all the time.” So much for not lashing out again, but after weeks of his wife’s absence, could he even be at fault for getting angry anymore?

“Baby, I know it’s sudden, but it was for me too, okay? I’ll tell you everything next time. I promise I’ll let you know all my schedules a week in advance,” she told him calmly.

Truth be told, she didn’t have any schedules. Her “schedules” were simply hanging out with friends or strange men til ungodly hours of the night.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I know, I know. I’m sorry for yelling again.” he frowned. “I’m just so stressed with work, and when I get home, you’re gone, baby. I’ve just been missing you so bad lately.” he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, savoring the last moment with her until she left for a whole week. “Just make sure to answer my calls, okay? And don’t leave me on read. You know I hate that more than anything,” he chuckled.

“I promise I will.” he pecked her lips softly.

“Don’t go,” he whined. “Wouldn’t it look better attending your event with a charming rich husband hanging off your arm?” He laughed.

“Right.” She rolled her eyes playfully and laughed. “Plus, you have work.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” he cupped her cheeks in his hands and pressed one long kiss to her lips. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I know, baby, me too, but I have to go.” She pried his arms off of her waist and grabbed her bags.

“Let me help you.” he tried to grab the suitcase, but she took it from him.

“Thanks, babe, but I have it, okay?” She rushed out.

“Okay, have fun and be safe,” he rambled as she was making her way out the door. “I love you!” He shouted as the door shut. He walked over to the windows and watched her loading up the car and backing out of the driveway.

Sitting down on the bed, he let out a long sigh, something he’s noticed he’s been doing a lot recently. This was going to be one tough week without her.

Only two days had gone by, and heeseung felt like he was going to go crazy. It was already bad enough that he didn’t get to see her after work, but not seeing her at all or being able to cuddle at night was killing him.

What made it all worse was that she did the very thing he hated the most, leaving his messages on read and not answering his calls.

He wasn’t extremely clingy or needy, not to his knowledge anyway, but one thing that grinds his gears was being ignored, and his wife had been doing just that.

He went to his contacts before he could tap the call option. An incoming call from his wife showed up, and his face lit up. “Baby!” He answers the phone happily.

She didn’t genuinely call him cause she cared. She just wanted him to stop blowing up her phone, especially around company. “Hey babe”

“I miss you. I was just about to call you. How’s everything been?” He smiled faintly at the sound of her voice, and he felt relieved cause she actually made it a point to call him instead of waiting for him to initiate.

“It’s good, but I have to stay another week to finish some business,” she lied.

“You have to be kidding me? I can’t wait for you that long. I need to see you,” he said in a whiny tone.

“You will love, I promise. I have to come back for a few hours and pick up some things, so you’ll see me this week,” she cheers, but it couldn’t be more fake.

“Thank god, I feel like I’m going crazy without you,” he pouted.

“Aww, you’re such a lover, boy.” she put her phone on speaker and let her friends hear. They all knew her situation, and they just thought it was funny how heeseung let her use him so blindly.

“Yes, I am, but only for you, baby, you know that,” she muted the phone while she and her friends laughed hysterically at his sappy sayings. “Baby?” He asked when she didn’t answer. The phone was still connected, so he waited for her a bit.

“Of course, I know. I have to go now, see you next week bye,” she hung up.

“Bye, love,” the call ended quickly, and he smiled at the thought of seeing her this week. “Come home soon,” he said to himself and picked up the picture frame of him and his wife together on their wedding day.

Even though you had all this time alone with heeseung, he was always either at work or asleep, and when you asked him for help with your homework, he just told you he was too tired to help you out this week.

So, the whole week went by without you getting him to give you his undivided attention.

But that wasn’t enough to make you stop.

For the rest of the time that your mother was away, you washed, dried, and ironed his suits for him every morning. You made sure he went to work with a full stomach and a clean suit. You even went as far as to run him occasional baths so he could relax when he got home from work. “Thanks for the bath.” he came into the kitchen with a towel around his shoulders.

“No problem,” you smiled once he sat down at the dinner table.

You went to grab a fork out of the drawer for him, and you pretended to drop it on the floor so you could bend over and give him a peek up your tiny shorts.

His eyes flickered down for a moment before he focused on the plate of food in front of him.

Once you finally grabbed it, you turned around and smiled at him. “Sorry,” you whisper and grab a new set of utensils for him. “Here you are.” he smiled in appreciation while you took a seat.

“It’s hot in here.” You pulled down the zipper on your grey hoodie, revealing the top of your cleavage to him as you fanned your chest and moved your hair to the side. “Are you hot?” You ask innocently.

“No, no, I’m good.” he kept his eyes glued to his plate and cleared his throat.

“I’m like really hot,” you exclaim and take off your hoodie, leaving you with nothing but a sports bra on that showed your perky nipples through.

He shook his head and tried to erase the image he had just seen, but unfortunately, it didn’t work. He doesn’t even know why he was looking in the first place, but it was hard not to when you literally had your tits pushed into his view. “Sorry I’ve been so busy this week, but I’ll be able to help you out a little more next week.” he averted his eyes and started a conversation to distract himself.

“Take your time. There’s no rush,” you assured him and placed your hand on the back of his, leaving it there for a few moments too long.

He chuckled awkwardly and moved his hand away from you. “Yeah, you know it is a bit hot. I’m just gonna take this to my room.” he got up and took his plate and glass with him.

He doesn’t know if his mind was just in the gutter, or you were just being overly nice, or the fact he hadn’t been intimate with his wife, but no matter the case, it just didn’t feel right having you be that affectionate towards him, sure he wanted to get close with you but not that close.

He was very appreciative of the things you did for him, but at the same time, there needed to be some boundaries cause he can’t think of a logical reason for your treatment towards him lately. As bad as it sounds, It was almost like you were coming on to him, and in his sad, lonely state, he could almost feel himself breaking and giving in to you. “What am I thinking?” He rubbed at his temples, trying to get rid of the forming headache. “She’s just nice to me, that’s all,” he convinced himself and erased it from his mind, trying to pretend nothing odd was happening between the two of you.

“Is there a reason you answered none of my calls?” He spoke to his wife while she was busy packing and not paying any attention to him. She had just got back, and she was already leaving again.

“I’m busy. I can’t be here twenty-four seven and answering you at your every call,” she said, annoyed.

“I’m not asking you to answer my every call. I’m just saying maybe you could text me and at least tell me you’re alright.” he followed her from room to room so he could get the answers that he’s been wanting for the last couple of months.

“Sorry, when we got married, I didn’t know I was signing up to be your right hand,” she scoffed.

“You’re fucking kidding me right now. You make it seem like I’m just calling you all the time,” heeseung defends himself.

“You do. It’s been one week, and there are more than fifty calls from you. It’s annoying when I’m dealing with my own life,” she groans.

“Well, baby, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be that way,” his tone softened. “You know that, right?”

“I don’t want an apology. I just want you to let me breathe a little.”

“Well, I miss my wife, okay? All I do is sleep and go to work, and at night, I just want to spend time with my girl. Is that really asking so much?” His temper rose once again.

“I really just need to pack right now, okay? Now please move,” she brushed past him.

“No! You always do this. Just run out whenever you feel like it. You don’t ever tell me shit. I mean, come on, you’re daughter is fucking here alone, and you have nothing to say to her after you’ve been gone for a whole week? I can’t be the fucking crazy one here,” he yells in frustration.

“I said I’m busy!” She screamed and slapped him across his face.

He looked at her in utter disbelief, the harsh slap echoing throughout the bedroom as the once-heated room began to cool down.

He held his cheek in his palm, and he was at a loss for words. “I’m so sick of you acting like you know everything. You don’t know shit you’re just a pathetic excuse for a man.”

“Baby, come on, you don’t mean that,” he said quietly. He could get loud sometimes, but he was still very fragile at heart.

“I’m starting to, can’t believe I married someone like you in the first place.” The longer she spoke, the more hurtful her words became.

He could almost hear his heart breaking into a million little pieces as he blankly stared at her, packing up her things. “B-but you still love me, right, babe? You’re just saying that because you’re angry, you don’t mean it.” he felt himself becoming weaker and weaker by the second.

“Heeseung, not now. I’m running late as it is.” Deciding to ignore his question, she zipped up her suitcase and started preparing to head out.

“What did you call me?” After they both got married, she never called him anything but babe or baby, so to hear his real name falling from her lips absolutely broke him.

She stood up straight and huffed out a heavy breath. “I’m not going to tell you again. Just leave me alone, and we’ll talk later when I get back.”

“O-okay.” he nodded quietly and sat on the bed so he wouldn’t get in her way as he watched her pack up the rest of her things. He wanted to tell her that he loved her so much before she left, but the words just didn’t come out.

Hours passed by, and he was still just sitting there blankly staring at the wall, wondering what this meant for his marriage.

Years of love and happiness were nowhere to be found these past few months, and he couldn’t help but think this was the beginning of the end of his marriage.

He ran his thumb over the gold band on his ring finger as a tear escaped from his eye.

He quickly composed himself when you walked in his room. “I heard what happened just now. Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine, just don’t bother me right now,” he said coldly.

You frowned and closed the door, leaving him to sort out his feelings on his own.

After the way he talked to you, you didn’t feel like doing much, so you just laid in bed, hoping he’d feel better by tomorrow. You resented your mother even more after the way she treated him. You could see her abusing you cause you were her daughter, and she thought you were a failure, but heeseung never did anything wrong, so what right did she have to treat him so harshly?

You closed your eyes, thinking of ways to cheer him up tomorrow before drifting off to sleep.

Heeseung tried calling his wife the next day just to say he was sorry, but he kept getting the dial tone, so he gave up.

He called in to work again. There’s no way he could go to work with this still fresh in his mind cause he couldn’t focus, and he knows that would lead to him not getting a thing done.

He heard rustles in the kitchen, and he went downstairs to see what you were up to. “Morning, y/n,” he mumbled while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey, hee, I’m making breakfast. Would you like some?” He chuckled at the new nickname.

“Hee?” It was pretty random for him, but he still thought it was cute.

“Yeah, unless you don’t like it,” you pouted. “I won’t call you that again.”

“No, it’s fine. It just surprised me, that’s all, so what’s for breakfast?” He joined you at the table.

“Your favorite” you served him like you did every other morning. “Enjoy,” you said and winked at him. You went upstairs to grab his laundry and yours so it would be finished by the time he went back to work.

Once you came back, heeseung had finished eating and was sitting on the couch watching TV. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind. I borrowed one of your shirts since I’m all out of laundry.”

He turned his head in your direction, eyeing you up and down. “I don’t mind at all,” he nods while checking out your exposed chest and your bare thighs.

As wrong as it was, he couldn’t deny that you looked absolutely stunning wearing his shirt.

You smiled when you saw him checking you out, and you sat next to him on the couch. “What are you watching?” You asked innocently as you brushed your knee against his thigh.

“Just uhh, some show I don’t know.” he threw his hand up and let them fall back on his lap softly.

You giggled. “You’re watching something, and you don’t even know what it is?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I guess so,” he gulped as he looked down at your leg.

He knew damn well what he was watching, but it was hard to even think properly when his shirt was riding up your smooth thighs and just inches away from showing off your underwear.

Fuck, this was so wrong. He excused himself and went to the bathroom to catch a breather. He blamed this on the fact of not getting any for so long, but even he knew that was a trash ass excuse.

He tossed some cool water on his face and dried off with a towel, hoping that’d give him some type of clarity.

It didn’t.

He took out his phone from his pocket and tried to phone his wife, but again, still no answer. But for some reason, deep, deep down, he was almost happy she didn’t answer him. “Damn,” he went back to the sofa and sat at least a whole two cushions away from you.

You noticed his distance, but you were determined to get him to finally break for you, so naturally, you moved closer to him once again.

His breath hitched when he saw just how close you were to touching him, and he nearly lost it when you placed your hand on his thigh while focusing on the TV.

A smile finds your lips. When you see how flustered he looks, you can tell he is close to giving in. “I bet you’re tired. Hmm?” You purr next to his ear, subtly stroking his thigh, causing him to release a shaky breath.

“Yes,” he tilts his head back and turns to look at you, eyes already glossed over by desire.

“Yeah? I bet you just want a break after working so hard?” You use the sweetest tone you can muster while slipping your hand under his shirt and rubbing your palm over his pecs.

“You have no idea,” he sighs and leans into your touch more.

“I think I have an idea. I haven’t heard anything coming from upstairs,” you pout and look at him with a sympathetic expression.

“Your mom's just been busy, that’s all. I can handle it,” he replied, knowing exactly what you were getting at, and he told a white lie he couldn’t handle it.

“I can tell,” you hold in a laugh, referring to the night you had caught him “handling it.” “Why don’t you let me help?” You placed your hand above his clothed crotch, pressing down on it slightly. “I can see just how unhappy, tired, and lonely you are.” You leaned in and kissed his neck, tipping him off the edge with your words. “I’ll do what she doesn’t.” You reached inside his pajamas, gripping his shaft, earning a strained groan from him.

That’s what did it.

He couldn’t resist anymore. You had caught him at his absolute lowest, and at this point, all he wanted was some attention. He just wanted someone to care about him. You were there, and his wife just wasn’t.

“You wanna help your daddy, huh?” The idea that this was wrong completely vanished from his mind in this moment. He didn’t care about cheating. How could he when he had his pretty little pliant stepdaughter so eager to make him feel better?

You nodded, getting ready to listen to any and everything that your stepdad desired.

“Keep stroking it, princess” he lazily spread his legs, giving you more space to work his cock up and down. “Why do you wanna help me so bad? Hmm, pretty?” His hand came up to your cheek, rubbing it softly.

“Cause you deserve it, Daddy” You bite your lip, arousal already seeping from your untouched cunt as your tiny hand jerks his pulsing shaft. He felt so thick and warm inside your hand.

“That’s daddy’s good girl.” he laid back, resting his head against the couch, watching you pleasure him.

When you grabbed the waist of his pants, he immediately lifted his hips so you could free his huge leaking cock.

“Daddy,” you gasp from the size of him eyes sparkling when you see just how big he is, and you can’t help but stick your tongue out and swipe it over his tip, tasting his salty precum. “Hmm, so good” you lap at his slit to get another taste.

“Yeah?” He chuckles slightly as he cocks an eyebrow tilting his head to the side so he can see the way your tongue swirls around his thick cock head.

You hum, too busy with licking his length to respond properly.

He lifted his shirt up a little higher when you wrapped your lips around him and sunk down halfway, his face automatically scrunching in pleasure.

Strings of saliva trickled down his cock as you forced yourself to take him in deeper, hollowing your cheeks and making sure not to scrape him with your teeth. “Fuck princess, you’re sucking daddy so g-good” his hand was placed on the back of your head, stroking your hair as you leaned down further, attempting to take him balls deep only to gag once you got a little more than halfway. “Oh shit,” he grunted as your throat tightened up on his cock. The sound of you gagging on his length was like music to his ears. “That’s daddy’s good little girl,” you moaned as you tried to take him again, but he was so big that you choked every single time you tried. But judging by his quick breaths and moans, you must have been doing something he liked.

You held onto his thighs, pulling off his length gripping his base, and tapping his tip on your tongue before encasing his hard cock again. “There you go precious, take my dick” he slowly bucked his hips up fucking into your throat, making you gag every time his tip met your tonsils. “Gonna make your daddy cum” he throat fucked you faster, deeper rougher as your nails dug into his thighs. The slight pain only added more to the pleasure as he pushed your head down until your bottom lip kissed his balls.

You almost felt like you were going to regurgitate, but you wanted to please him, so you did your best to hold it down as you felt him twitching in your mouth.

His rough thrusts came to a stop finally after his cock had rubbed your throat raw. “Cumming!” You could barely register his words before you felt his thick, creamy seed squirting down your throat and spilling on your tongue. “Swallow princess,” his breath was unsteady as he rolled his hips, riding out his high while you drank his cum like a good little obedient stepdaughter. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off his softening cock and turning your face to him so he could kiss you. “Come here,” he whispers, and you barely comprehend what he says, but your body slowly moves closer to him when you see him awaiting your kiss. “Hmm,” he moans, feeling your hot mouth on his and the strong taste of his cum still lingering in your mouth.

You whimper into the kiss, and he grips your waist, easily lifting you up and placing your core right on top of his cock. “Daddy,” you mewl when you feel his hot length pressed between your pussy lips, and you can’t control your hips as you start grinding on him.

“Naughty” he nibbles your bottom lip and grabs your ass with his big hands to guide your delicate body over his hardening girth. “Wanna ride me, is that it?” He groans against your neck, stealing a few kisses while he waits for your answer.

“Mmm, yes, daddy.” you weren’t even sure what you were asking for. You’ve never been with a guy before cause your mother always forbade you, so all this was new to you, but the feeling of wanting something inside of you was so strong that you couldn’t help but say yes.

“Let daddy make you feel good first.” he grabbed your thighs, lifting you up and switching positions on the couch. He stood up for a moment, pulling his pants off the rest of the way and ripping his shirt off.

As you lay on the couch, getting the full view of his bare body, you can’t help but gush arousal from your core, and you realize the little glimpse of him you got when you caught him touching himself left so so much more to be desired.

Once he got down on his knees, he spread your legs open and wasted no time burying his face deep into your soaking clothed core, inhaling your strong scent. “You smell so fucking amazing” his eyes nearly roll back in his head once he sniffs you again.

You squirmed on the couch from his words, feeling embarrassed. “Baby wasn’t so shy to suck daddy off earlier,” he teased, gripping your shorts and pulling them down like you did to him minutes ago. You followed his lead, raising your hips up so he could strip you of your clothing, and just the sight of your little pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing had him throbbing so hard. “You’re really wet,” he whispers in complete awe of the translucent liquid staining your little hole and thighs. You looked so pretty he wished he could take a picture to capture this moment forever. “You must really like sucking your stepdad off, huh?” He chuckled darkly, leaving you to feel embarrassed yet turned on at the same time.

“Yes,” you reply. He wasn’t expecting you to even say anything back, but he wasn’t disappointed either.

“That’s my girl,” he smirked and rubbed over your thighs with his warm hands, getting you nice and comfortable kissing on your inner thighs to get you loosened up a bit more.

You shivered at every single one of his touches, only getting wetter by the second, you bit your lips, whimpering needily as your body began to grow impatient with need for your stepdad.

“Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good, pretty.” Those were his last words before his head got lost between your thighs as he slowly tongued down your dripping folds.

“Oh, Daddy.” The loud moan coming from your lips makes him chuckle, sending a little vibration through your core, which gains another unfiltered moan from you. Luckily for you both, he has a mansion cause if he didn’t, those two screams alone would have wakened the neighbors.

He reached his hands under your shirt, gripping your soft mounds, adding to the already mind-numbing pleasure.

You placed your hands over his as he fondled your breasts. “Fuck heeseung” his eyes fell shut when you said his name, and he was so close to humping the sofa to relieve the built up tension between his legs, but he wanted to hold it so he could cum in you after he ate you out.

You’re so lost in pleasure that you mindlessly roll your hips, rubbing your clit on his perfect pointy nose while he slurps your yummy wetness. “Keep fucking daddy’s face,” he rasps against your core. That’s what made you notice what you had been doing the whole time, and to say you were embarrassed would be a huge understatement, but you couldn’t stop rolling your hips cause his face and tongue felt so good.

He dropped one of his hands between your legs, easily finding your hole and sticking a finger knuckle deep into your wet heat.

“O-oh,” all the air got sucked from your body when you felt his digit invading your insides, and you rode his finger, eyes rolling back while you focused on the delicious feeling of something being so deep inside you, your own fingers never satisfied you the way his were right now.

He looked up from between your legs, eyeing your blissed-out state, the sight making his cock stiff as he plunged another finger inside you, desperate to see and hear your reactions to what he was doing to you.

“Mmh fuck!” you cried when you felt your walls being stretched open more than they ever had before. “It feels s-so good, Daddy” You close your eyes, too far gone to even care that you’re now shamelessly fucking his face and fingers as you run a hand through his hair.

He wouldn’t have it any other way, and the suspicion he once had about himself not being able to please a woman quickly went out the window as he saw you in complete euphoria.

He pumped your tight hole full of his digits, curling them up and caressing your upper walls to bring you the utmost satisfaction. He laid his tongue flat on your clit, and you swore you saw stars heat flooded your whole body, a weight forming in your lower stomach and your body quivering intensely.

All it took was one glance between your legs and the tip of his skilled tongue flicking on your clit to make you clamp down on his fingers as your high took over your entire body. “Fuck fuck!” He hummed, encouraging you to let yourself go as you creamed his fingers with your milky white release.

He kissed your clit, praising you as your walls finally let go of his fingers. “My good girl cumming on daddy’s fingers,” he hums. “Can’t get enough of you, princess, tastes too fucking good,” he mumbled into your core, licking up all your sticky wetness until you were clean and covered in nothing but his stringy spit.

“H-heeseung,” you pant his name in broken syllables, trying to regain your composure.

“Did you like cumming on my fingers, pretty?” He laughs softly.

You nod, too shy to tell him how you really feel. “So shy,” he grins and kisses each of your thighs softly. “Adorable”

He stands up off the carpet sitting next to you on the couch once again, setting you down on top of his dick, only this time you’re without your underwear. “You ready for me?” He smirks, feeling your pussy throbbing on top of his dick, knowing you want it.

You nod and immediately hide your face in his neck, which he finds adorable. He’d never seen someone so shy yet so eager for him. “Daddy’s girl,” he puts his hands on your waist, grinding you back and forth, lubing up his dick for you to sink down on as he wraps his arm around you holding you up slightly so he can slip his cock in your hole. “Ready, princess?” he whispers in your ear, his tip positioned at your opening.

He waits a moment and soon withdraws a bit after a minute of waiting for your confirmation. “Hey, you’re okay. Look at me.” he held your face in his hands, scanning your worried-looking features. “If you want to stop, we can,” he said softly and stroked your cheek, eyes filled with nothing but concern.

You felt terrible now cause of his words, the fact that you had led him on without knowing how to please him, and now that he was going to sacrifice his pleasure for your comfort made you feel even worse. “No, just wanna please you, Daddy.” You roll your hips, but he immediately holds you still.

“You already did, princess. Just let Daddy clean you up and take care of you.” he kissed your cheek, but you put your hands on his chest, determined to give him what he deserves.

“I’m sorry for disappointing you,” you mumbled. “I wish I could please you, but I’m a virgin, and I don’t know how.” you’re on the brink of tears, fearful that you had let him down or made him upset and your biggest fear was letting yet another person you cared about down.

He looked at you intently, and he couldn’t believe what you had said. He was far from upset with you. If anything, he was angry at himself. He didn’t know you hadn’t been touched by someone else yet, especially cause you were so nice and beautiful. What idiots were passing up someone like you? He wished he had of asked if you were a virgin before doing anything with you cause he could have made your first time so much more special and intimate.

“Sorry,” you whisper, tears in your eyes. And his silence was only making it worse.

“No, princess, don’t apologize.” he shushed you and caressed your sides. “I’m not mad at you,” he assured. “I’m mad at myself for not asking and taking my time with you. Give me a kiss.” he leaned in, a sound of approval coming from his mouth when you pulled away. “You still wanna take care of your Daddy, right?” He smiles when you nod. “Then let’s go upstairs. Let Daddy be the first one to have you. What do you say, hmm? You trust me, right?”

“Yes,” he picked you up like nothing and walked up to your room, laying you in your bed.

He quickly shuts the door and locks it just in case while you slip off his shirt from your shoulders. “I’ll go slow, okay?” he mutters once he’s on top of you.

You instinctively wrap your legs and arms around him as he bends down, pressing his lips to yours, starting out slow and gradually rutting his cock against your swollen pussy.

He kissed down your jaw and your neck, licking slowly and sensually to build you up for what was to come just so you could come crashing down on his cock when the time comes.

“Hee,” whines leave your lips as you etched your nails into his toned back.

He moans on your skin, flicking your earlobe with his tongue, making you shiver before he works his way down to suck your hard nipple into his mouth. “Ah ah,” You arch up into him, meeting his slow thrust and rutting yourself on his rock hard dick.

“So pretty.” He tightly gripped your bedsheets, feeling his need for you grow stronger with each passing second.

A glob of spit falls from his mouth, and he smears it over your tit before sucking it back into his mouth. “So good.” You place one hand in his hair, the other still on his back as your body silently begs for him to be inside.

Switching to your other nipple with a soft moan, he swirls his tongue in a circle, bringing his hand down to cup your left breast. “So soft.” his warm breath blows against your chest, making you shiver with need.

“Want more” you cry as his length slides through your wet folds. You feel like you’re going to explode if you don’t feel him inside you. Though the idea of losing your virginity was scary, the need for him was too strong for you to worry about that, especially when his tip kept poking your hole teasingly.

A relieved sigh leaves his mouth, the words he so badly wanted to hear from you finally coming out. He looks you in the eyes, leaning down to get a taste of your lips one more time. “Daddy’s gonna deflower you now, okay, princess?” You eagerly nod, leaving him with no apprehension as he angles his hips, rutting forward and pressing the head of his cock past your tight entrance.

He grunts from the tightness. It’s almost unbearable. He can barely move with how you keep clamping down on him, and he already feels like he could cum just from that. “Mmm,” he groans, staring at your face, waiting for you to give him any reaction. “Are you okay?” He wills himself to say despite your walls hugging him so tight.

“Y-yeah,” you breathe, trying to adjust. He definitely feels big, and you can’t deny the stretch is painful, and the pain continues on even when he’s halfway inside or what feels like halfway, but when you look down, you see he’s barely even past the tip, and you feel like you’re going to pass out if you try to take him in all the way. “Daddy,” you moan and squirm beneath him, trying to get him to pull out, but he stays nestled inside you, stroking your cheek and shushing you.

“You’re doing so good, princess.” With a kiss on your forehead, he bucks his hips, going in deeper. “I swear it’s gonna feel so good soon.” he inches in and out, feeling a little less resistance, but it’s still really tight.

“Hee,” you struggle to breathe, gripping tightly onto his biceps from the pain.

“Relax, princess, breathe” he nudges his nose against your cheek bringing a hand down to your clit to distract you from the slight discomfort. “That’s it.” he smiles when he hears you moaning softly. “Making Daddy proud,” he grunts when he feels you squeezing his cock impossibly tight.

Your breath managed to stabilize a bit. Moving your hands to his back, you dig your nails deep into his flesh, trying to hang on for dear life before your orgasm hits. “All for Daddy.” your high-pitched moans are a sign that you’re really starting to enjoy it now, so he pushed in halfway and stayed still.

“Fuck doll, so good for your Daddy” he looks down, seeing his cock buried in your tiny cunt, and the sight makes drool pool in his mouth. Your wet walls wrapped around him was the best fucking feeling in the whole world. He’s never felt this good ever. Not even his own wife made him feel this satisfied.

“Feel like I’m gonna cum” Your lips pout, and the longer he circles your throbbing clit, the closer you get to having your second high of the night. “I’m cumming!”

“Cream on this dick, princess,” he nearly cums with you. The way you grip his cock has his mind in a sub-space. He feels so far gone, too far gone, that just your fluttering walls have him emptying his balls deep inside you. “Fuck” he grunts, his shaft pushing inside you with each rope of gooey cum that paints your walls.

“D-daddy,” you claw at his chest, feeling full to the absolute brim. With the way you squeeze around him so tightly.

“Take daddy’s cum” he messily kisses the side of your mouth, sticking his tongue inside and exploring you. “Yeah? You like that? Being full with daddy’s cum” he massages your clit, bringing you down from your high as he fills up your hole with every last dribble of cum.

“Yes, Daddy.” Your compliance makes him completely melt. He can’t understand how you’re so good to him, especially since it’s your first time, and the fact that you were so eager to please him makes him want to please you tenfold.

The slippery, wet sounds coming from your lower half make you tuck away behind your arms, but Heeseung wasn’t having none of that. “No, no, none of that.” he pins your arms above your head, making sure you don’t pull something like that again. “You’re gonna look me in the eyes when I fill you up, understand?”

“Understand.” You nod, and it makes him smile above you.

“That’s daddy’s good girl” Even after cumming he was still hard. He couldn’t seem to get enough of you as he rolled his hips, easily sliding in now due to all the slickness between your bodies. When he bottomed out, you couldn’t help but cry continuously in pleasure, your moans encouraging him to speed up his thrust til he found a perfect pace. He pulled out halfway and pushed back in, drawing out more loud moans from you. “So fucking tight,” he grunts, gripping your wrist tightly above your head while his balls slap against your cum covered ass. “Look at that creamy little pussy swallowing my cock so well.” He moans.

You were writhing on his cock, body quivering in pleasure as you laid there and took what your daddy had to give you like a good girl. “Heeseung,” you said his name weakly. It was all just too much for you to handle. The room felt like it was spinning and everything felt so hot.

“Shh, doll, just hold onto me.” he released your arms, and you immediately clung to his body for some type of support and to ground yourself. “That’s it,” he whispers and kisses your face all over. “So good for me” he lowered himself to his elbows, gripping onto the sheets again before fucking into you faster. “All for me”

You’re not even sure what sounds you were making at this point, but you had been completely given over to pleasure as he pounded into you, his sweaty skin clapping against yours and adding to the already filthy sounds in the steamy room. “Want more of daddy’s cum princess?” His hips falter, and this time, you can actually feel him twitching inside you, and it makes your eyes roll back in your head.

“Yes, yes, yes! Daddy fuck me full of your cum. Give it to me, please.” Your mouth falls open as little continuous uh sounds leave your lips. Each time his tip kissed your cervix.

“Yeah, daddy’s gonna fuck his princess full” You clench around him when you hear him grunting as he speeds up his hips fucking into you hard, just how you deserve it. You automatically pull him closer so you can kiss him. If you could even call it a kiss, both of your mouths hung open, moaning loudly as you messily swirl your tongues together.

He thumbs your clit, and you could no longer keep up with the kiss. Despite you not kissing him anymore, he still made out with your swollen lips, swiping his tongue over them and nibbling softly as you both exchanged saliva.

Your arms hung loosely around him, your legs shaking and toes curling as the knot in your stomach snapped and pleasuring shockwaves flowed throughout your body. “Oh my god,” he growls inside your mouth as your velvety walls give him the most pleasure he’s ever felt in his life. “Keep going, keep soaking your daddy’s big cock, fuck- cumming!”

“D-daddy,” you stutter against his lips, gripping his waist harshly as he fucks his load deep inside you filling you up with spurt after spurt of his cum.

“Oh fuck, so good” he kissed you one last time, leaning back to stroke your cheek a little while after he finished, he quickly checked on you instead of marveling in the aftermath. “You alright?” He asks, looking down at your skin coated in a thin layer of sweat and chest heaving.

You weakly nodded, and he smiled, leaning down to you and kissing all over your chest once he caught his breath. “Was that good for your first time? He asks with a seriousness in his tone. He knew you didn’t have any prior experience to compare to, but he still wanted to know if you enjoyed it as much as him.

“It was perfect,” you croak out, and he can’t help the huge grin that takes over his face.

He ever so carefully pulls out of you, biting on his lip as he watches gushes of white leaking from your cunt. “I’m gonna go grab something to clean you up, okay?” He tells you softly, stroking your arms up and down soothingly, yet you hang onto him, not letting him move any further from his spot.

“Later,” you whine, and he feels your body still trembling, and he can’t help but smile, knowing that he gave it to you that good to the point you were shaking.

“Later,” he reiterates with a chuckle, ducking his head down to kiss you some more.

And not for one second did he regret anything that he had just done. Even when he saw the gold wedding band shining on his ring finger, he simply slipped it off, putting it on the nightstand before taking you to the bathroom to bathe together a little while later.

“Just like that princess,” your stepdad groans as you bounce up and down on his big thick cock.

This has been going on for the past couple of days. You and heeseung had been going at it like complete animals nonstop. No part of the house was untouched when you were together.

The day before yesterday, he had you bent over the kitchen counter while you were making breakfast. He came downstairs and snuck up behind you, pressing his morning hard-on against your ass, persuading you to turn off the stove so he could stuff you full of his cock and cum, which led to you both skipping breakfast only to go another round in the shower later.

The next day, he took you from behind on the staircase cause when he came home from work, he was too impatient to go upstairs.

Today, he decided to let you ride him on the couch while his wife was still away on vacation. “Does it feel g-good, Daddy?” You bit your lip, toying with your breasts right in front of his eyes as you bounced up and down on his dick, and the way your tits jiggled with every movement had him completely mesmerized by you.

“Fuck yes! don’t fucking stop, princess. Daddy’s gonna cum in this pussy again” Oh, you forgot to mention he had already fucked you on the couch in missionary prior to you riding him.

“Give me all your cum, Daddy” You rotated your hips, sinking lower on him, making a mess on his stomach and the sofa beneath your bodies.

“Fuck” he hissed, throwing his head back and digging his fingertips into your plush ass as he came for the second time today. “Shit,” he grits his teeth, gripping your hips tightly to lift you up and down your ass colliding with his thighs as he finished inside you. Once he was done, he smacked your ass, making you clench around him as his cum dripped out of your swollen cunt and down his pulsating shaft.

“Hmm, Daddy,” you whine, still grinding your hips and fucking yourself on his cock.

He lifts you off his lap and chuckles slightly when you whine at the loss of him inside you. “Lay down for me love.”

You immediately obey and lay your back down on the couch as he situates himself between your legs, sticking his tongue out flat and slurping up his cum mixed with your wetness. “Always taste so fucking good” he stuffed your cunt full of his fingers, curling them deep inside you and rubbing your walls just the way he knows you like it. “Suck on daddy’s fingers, baby” he taps your lip with his fingers and slowly guides them into your mouth. You start sucking on them the same way you do to his cock. “Good,” he cooed, going back to licking at your clit.

His hot breath fans your heat, and you swear you see stars when he presses down on your tongue, gagging you with his long, thick fingers.

You feel yourself going crossed eyed as he sucks your clit, bringing you closer to your high you try to say your step dads name, but you can’t cause his fingers are shoved deep down your throat, not to say you’d even be able to speak cause the way he finger fucked you was just so good it left you speechless.

He locked his eyes with yours. Loving the nasty scene in front of him, drool was dripping from your lips as you played with your hard nipples.

“Cum” he mumbled while eating you out and flicking his tongue on your swollen clit.

Whenever he said that word, it didn’t take you long to cream around him. “Yes, Daddy,” you shirked, legs shaking while he worked you through the pleasure. He got a little carried away and continued to lap at your clit to hear your pretty noises some more, “No m-more,” you cry out, but your plea falls on deaf ears as he sucks on your clit harder. Your body jolts. It’s a mixture of pain but undeniable pleasure, and before you can protest, another orgasm is rippled from you, and it feels even more intense than the first one as you squirted all over his face. You felt embarrassed and tried to pull away, but he held you close, rubbing his face all over your pussy and flicking your upper walls until he got everything out of you.

“God damn,” he groans, finally pulling away to catch a breather but diving right back in between your legs, gulping loudly and hungrily, swallowing up all your essence. “So fucking good” your taste was making him feel so weak. You could literally bring him to his knees any time you pleased cause he couldn’t get enough of your addictive taste.

He pulled his fingers away from your mouth to open you up. He spread your thighs, cleaning everything up with his tongue, and he was so tempted to lick the residual squirt off the couch, but he controlled himself and opted to lick your hole, hoping to get every last drop out of you.

You were moaning continuously, barely coherent of what was going on, but you knew you didn’t want him to stop even if you felt like passing out. “Love this pussy” he kissed your clit. “From now on, this pussy is mine, so sweet, so perfect” he went on and on about you just burying his face into your cunt, wishing he could drown in your arousal.

“Daddy,” you say, mustering up every ounce of strength to look down between your legs, only to fall back down when you see his warm skilled tongue roaming every inch of your vulva.

“Hmm, princess,” his eyes fluttered shut, getting lost in the taste of you. Even when his tongue felt sore, he didn’t stop. “Fuck” he spat on your crotch, slurping it back up only to do it again over and over, just devouring your hole with every lick and suck.

After five more minutes of your constant whining while he licked you clean, he was hard again, and he finally pulled away to get some relief. “Where do you want it?” He said, jerking his cock in front of you.

You beckoned him closer, taking his shaft in your hand and rubbing his precum-stained tip on your lips before sucking him inside your mouth. “So fucking to me,” he grunted while slowly fucking your throat. He reached down, placing his hand on your neck, feeling it bulge when you swallowed him all the way down. “Fuck I can’t hold it. Gonna cum” he splutters out, tightly gripping your throat and violently cumming in your precious little mouth. “Ah fuck! Mhm- so g-good that’s it swallow for daddy,” he pants, thighs tensing and balls tightening as he gave you his cum for the third time today. He gently pulled out of your mouth, gripping his base and softly tapping his tip on your bottom lip. “My good girl,” he breathes out, stroking your cheek as you smile up at him from his possessive words, and you felt happy knowing that you were finally able to please and satisfy someone.

Neither of you were even able to speak after that. he laid right beside you, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and laying it over your tired bodies, knowing you were far too tired to be concerned with cleaning up, and rightfully so cause he was absolutely exhausted as well.

As fun as everything was in the moment when heeseung laid eyes on his wife once she got back from vacation, he felt incredibly guilty. He felt terrible, especially cause she was treating him so well for the first time ever since the move-in.

His conscience was eating him alive whenever she’d make dinner for him and go out of her way to make him feel special. One of the worst feelings was when she’d come to him in the bedroom, no matter if he wanted to or not. He just couldn’t get in the mood to do anything cause he knew he’d see your beautiful face and hear your precious moans every single time.

“You don’t want me?” She asks back, hugging him while he sits at the edge of the bed.

“No baby, i do, I do, but I’m just so tired right now, okay? We can do something tomorrow, yeah?” he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

She didn’t exactly care cause she didn’t want anything to do with him anyway, but she pretended to treat him good since she came back from vacation so he wouldn’t still be upset with her. She had to stay on his good side for a little longer to collect more money before she filed for a divorce.

She never loved him to begin with. She just saw that he was oblivious and unreasonably nice, and she used that to her advantage to get with him. She had someone younger and better-looking living across the country, and she couldn’t wait to leave this hell hole and go live the life she’s been dreaming of.

“I mean it, anything you want, we’ll do it tomorrow.” he turned around, pulling her smaller body to his chest, not even believing the words he was spewing out himself.

“Hey,” you say with a shy smile as heeseung enters your room.

“Hi,” he says timidly and wipes his sweaty palms on his pants.

You stood up and walked over to him, standing on your tippy toes to kiss him, but he dodged it. “What’s wrong? Is my mom here?” You say, confused because that’s the only thing you could think of that was making him shy away from your kisses. He just shook his head as a no and sighed. “So kiss me.” You leaned into him, placing your hands on his hard chest and going in for a second kiss, only for him to reject you a second time.

“Y/n,” he holds your wrists, pushing you back slightly. “We can’t do this anymore,” he says regretfully.

Your expression morphed into a sad one as you heard him say those words to you. “Why? Did I do something wrong? I can fix it, I promise.” You drop your hands to his zipper, desperate to right your wrongs, but he just holds you still yet again.

Fuck he thought to himself when he saw you getting ready to get on your knees for him. Always such a good little girl for your daddy. He quickly shook his head, ignoring those thoughts cause that was a thing of the past. You’d never be his princess again, and he would never be your daddy. From now on, it was strictly a stepdad-stepdaughter relationship, nothing more.

“Look what we did,” he sighs. “I made a mistake, okay?” He lied. He didn’t think it was a mistake at all, but he just felt like it was the right thing to say right now. “I-I was just hurt, sad, and lonely, and I did something stupid it meant nothing to me, okay? I have a wife that I love very much, and I’m here because I’m asking you not to say anything to her about what we did together.” You did your best to keep a straight face, but it was hard because, yet again, here you were, getting your feelings ignored and overlooked. Even when you did everything to please him, it still wasn’t good enough, and maybe everything your mom said about you was true. Maybe you were just useless.

“Okay,” you give him a fake smile and walk back to your bed.

“So we’re okay? You’re not gonna say anything to her, right?” He checks with you just to make sure you’re both on the same page, and you nod your head. “Okay,” he whispers. “And you’re sure you’re fine? Nothings gonna change between us?” He asks once more before leaving.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Like you said, it was just a stupid mistake people make mistakes.” You shrugged, pretending like the past week you were with him didn’t mean anything to you. Unfortunately, it did, and though your initial plan was to just get validated, recognized and cared for, those feelings quickly changed into something more when heeseung treated you like his princess. How could you not grow a liking for him? You knew it was wrong cause he was your stepdad, but he didn’t treat you like that. He cared for you in a different way, catering to your needs and making you feel good, something that you’ve never felt in your life before, and now that it was being taken away, of course, you cared. It hurt you deeply, but you realized you’d never be important to anyone no matter what you did, not to your parents, not to Heeseung, absolutely no one.

“But..” he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something stupid.

He knows he said it was a mistake, but he wasn’t expecting you to say that, too. Even though it has only been a week, he did feel a connection to you, something deeper than he’s ever felt before, something he’s never felt with his wife or anyone for that matter, and to hear you say that it was a mistake after you made it seem like you were into him for more than just sex made him feel extremely hurt. “Yeah, nothing more but a stupid mistake,” he chuckled and left your room, slamming the door shut on his way out.

And despite having his wife by his side, that same lonely feeling was creeping up on him, and once again, he felt useless, like he wasn’t wanted or needed by anyone.

“Baby, come to me,” he called his wife over to the couch. “You wanna watch a movie with me?” He asked, and she joined him on the sofa, kissing his cheek.

“Sure!” She cuddles up next to him, acting extra fake.

“Do you want to pick?” He says, stroking her shoulder lightly, finding it hard to even smile next to her.

“You can, babe,” she responds as he’s scrolling through the movies. He decided on something that sounded interesting.

He felt nothing but undeniable guilt.

Twenty minutes later, you come downstairs and go into the fridge, grabbing some water.

Heeseung can’t help but turn his attention towards you, and he wished he hadn’t when he saw you in the skimpiest sleepwear a girl could buy. “Fuck” he mutters under his breath.

“Hmm?” His wife looked up at him.

“Oh, nothing,” he fake laughs.

You walk back upstairs, and heeseung cranes his neck to the side, staring at you until you were out of his sight.

You came down dressed like that on purpose to show him what he was missing out on. Even if he was just using you cause he was lonely, you still knew he couldn’t resist your body, and you were going to make him pay for thinking that you were just there as free use to him.

“Hey, y/n, how are you?” There’s no doubt you hear your step dads voice coming from the kitchen when you walk in from school, but you pay him no attention, going straight upstairs to your room.

His smile faded as he massaged at his temples, releasing a long sigh.

“I told you you shouldn’t have gone easy on her. Now look, she disrespects you the same way she does me,” his wife annoyingly chimes in.

“And here we go with this again,” an annoyed expression is visible on his face as he sits up from his chair and goes to your room while she makes another remark under her breath.

This back-and-forth shit was really pissing him off more and more. One day, he and his wife were getting along perfectly fine like before, and then the next day, he was feeling like he wanted a divorce cause she was treating him like complete garbage.

That route was sounding really good right now because before you and your mom came into his life, it was far less complicated, and he was never angry. Now, every day, he was stressed and he was the only one trying to make ends meet just to have a normal family, but he wasn’t blind. He could see that wasn’t happening because his wife just wasn’t the same. There was a time when all she wanted was to spend time with him and treat him with respect and love, but now it’s like she couldn’t even stand to be in his presence.

And as far as things go with you and him, he didn’t know, but seeing how you thought being intimate with him was a mistake, he could only assume you wouldn’t miss him if he did file for a divorce. “Y/n?” His voice comes out soft and quiet while he twists the door knob entering your room without any warning.

When you hear his voice, you immediately turn around in bed, not wanting to see his face.

You hear him sigh as the door closes. A few footsteps later, you can feel his weight sinking into your bed. “What’s happening between you and me?” He gets right to the point. “Because you agreed things wouldn’t be different, and maybe I’m blind, but things are so different.” Although he wasn’t trying to have a romantic relationship with you, he still missed your guy’s interactions, like cooking together and watching movies while his wife was away, and even though it took a long time to complete, he even missed helping you study.

The boldness of his statement baffled you. Of course, you knew things were going to be different between you and him, so maybe you shouldn’t have lied about that. But you did it to protect your feelings, and now that he was coming to you in such a way was more than offensive cause was he really that dense not to know that things were bound to be different after fucking your stepdaughter not once but multiple times for multiple days did he really think he could bathe you after sex cuddle you to sleep and make snacks for you in the morning without things changing between you two? Well, apparently, he did because he’s asking you this ridiculous question, but you supposed if you were in his shoes and used someone for pleasure and emotional support just to ditch them when you felt like it, you understood where he was coming from, but that just made you even angrier. “What do you mean?” You sat up and looked at him, sounding completely unbothered.

“Come on, y/n, don’t do this, you know what I mean” he maintains eye contact with you.

“I’ve just been busy, that’s all.” You lie again because there was no point in telling him that you actually liked him. It’d never work, cause he didn’t feel the same for you.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but even I get busy sometimes, and that’s never made me act like you or your mom don’t exist. Whenever I even try to talk to you, you just shut me out, and it’s really annoying.” heeseung was desperate for your attention at this point. He missed you, your body, the passionate moments you shared, the one-on-one conversations, and the bond he had formed with you over the small time span of a week is what he’s been searching for. He thought he had found that with his wife, and in the beginning, it was damn near close, but after spending just a little bit of time with you, he knew that’s what he’s been longing for, the way you begged for him in bed made him feel wanted whenever you asked him for help made him feel needed and at night when you’d sleep in his arms he finally found that peace that was able to take away any stress from his long day.

It was selfish trying to string you along while trying to make things work in his marriage, but right now, and maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly, but he wanted you. He could see a future in your eyes, one he didn’t see with his wife ever.

The only thing stopping him from going through with the divorce was that he’d lose you too, and he wasn’t ready for that at all, at least not yet.

You laugh dryly. “Not everyone is like you.” An accusatory tone can clearly be detected in your voice, and when he hears you say that, he’s not sure if he can continue having this conversation with you because he wasn’t ready for you to tell him about all his flaws. Cause it’d hurt way too bad. Especially hearing it from you.

“You’re right.” The weight on your bed lessens as he stands up and opens your door. “If I can ever help you with anything, just let me know. Hopefully, you won’t be busy too much longer, y/n.” A half smile is the last thing you see before he quietly shuts the door behind him, and you finally allow the tears to gather in your eyes as you lay back down.

Heeseung knew you were lying when you said you were busy. He knew you were ignoring him, or maybe now that you had sex with him, you didn’t care about him at all. He doesn’t really know, and those are a lot of options to choose from, but at the back of his mind, one made more sense than all the others, and that was the fact that you probably just didn’t care about him for real in the first place.

Either way, he was going to find out, he had to because he needed to move on from whatever the hell this was that you and him had going on.

He was having dreams about you, imagining you in his bed. Instead, he even had a dream of marrying you, but he blames that on the fact that divorce has been on his mind lately.

The fact that you and his wife seemed to care nothing about him made him feel worthless as a husband, as a man, and as a stepfather, for what that’s worth.

But he still tried.

He was currently parked outside your school, patiently waiting for you to get out, which would be any minute now. He wanted to take you on a little drive and just talk about everything that’s transpired in the last couple of months.

After he checked the time on his watch, he looked up and saw you walking out of the building. His smile quickly fell when he saw a guy next to you with his arm draped on your shoulder, and man, did that make his blood fucking boil. “Y/n!” He rolls down the window and shouts for you to get into the car.

Unfortunately, your classmate and bully just so happened to follow you out of class today, hugging his arm around you each time you pushed him away. He just kept pestering you, and you weakly gave in like you always did. “Come back to my place, hmm? You look sad, baby. Let me take it away,” he whispered in your ear, making you shudder uncomfortably, which only makes him laugh in your face. “Come on, I know you want it. Wanna feel my big coc.” a loud horn distracted your classmate, and you looked in the direction of it, immediately relieved to see heeseung waiting at the curb for you, yelling for you to get into his car.

You were thankful that he showed up and saved you from your bully, but you were upset because here he was once again, making you care about him even more when you were trying to ignore all those feelings that you gained for him in only a week's time. “I have to go,” you mutter to your classmate and run to heeseung’s car, quickly getting in and shaking off the yucky feeling from your classmate.

“Who was that?” Heeseung asks, trying to keep his composure.

When you don’t answer and choose to look out the window instead of him, his composure had quickly depleted. “I said, who was that?” You still don’t answer, and he grips your chin softly despite how angry he is. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” he restrains himself from yelling, but he doesn’t know for how much longer that will be.

“Why do you care?” You snap and push his hand away from you.

He clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Just cause you won’t tell me doesn’t mean I don’t already know. It’s obvious that he’s your boyfriend.”

Your brows furrow, and he continues. “So you’re just opening your legs for any guy now, huh?” He chuckles sarcastically, and you want to slap him in the face for saying something so stupid. “Should have known, you couldn’t go a day without my cock in you, so now you have to get it somewhere else.”

You part your mouth to say something, but instead, you close it, opting to just say nothing. If he wanted to be that dumb, then you’d let him.

“Does he fuck you better than me?” Heeseung let his jealousy take over his whole body, and he just kept saying stupid shit, but he was too deep in to stop now.

It didn’t make sense to you at first why he seemed angry, but you soon pieced two and two together, remembering how possessive he always was when he was with you. You remembered all the times he’d call you his while cumming in you. “So much better” You roll your eyes, you know you’re being petty, but it’s only fair to push his buttons a little if he wanted to say ridiculous stuff about you.

Heeseung’s face drops along with his heart, knowing his suspicions about you having a boyfriend were true. He knew you just used him for sex, and nothing you said to him in between the sheets was real, and he couldn’t take knowing that he never meant anything to you in the first place. “I’m sure it’s easy to please a whore like you,” he retaliates.

“Oh, I’m the whore? Says the guy who fucks his stepdaughter and cheats on his wife” You scoff, and to think you weren’t even having sex with your disgusting classmate made this all the more amusing to you.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that. I liked you better when all you did was take my dick and keep your pretty little mouth shut” Your breath hitched when he said that, and you could feel yourself getting turned on by his words and his dominant aura. It took you back to that unforgettable week when you had him all to yourself. “Didn’t you?” His eyes fall on your little skirt, and he can’t help but grip your thigh and trail his hand up your dress, cupping your mound.

“Daddy,” you hold his wrist, keeping his hand in place over your pulsing cunt.

That’s all it takes for him to start his car and pull around the school building, parking in the closest thing to a blind spot. “Back seat now,” he rushes out, turning off the car and yanking his belt off.

You scampered to the back seat, automatically laying on your back. He climbs in after you, smirking when he sees you’re already in position for him. “That’s a good girl.” You melt hearing him call you that after so long and it makes a gush of wetness leak from your hole. “But,” he says, pausing to take off his belt and unfasten his jeans. “You still have to be punished for giving Daddy’s pussy away.”

You were going to tell him you didn’t, but you’re not sure if, in the heat of the moment, he’d believe you, plus you'd rather be punished by him anyway cause it’s what you were used to. “Gonna take daddy’s lesson like a good girl?

“Yes, Daddy,” he smiles, that weird feeling in his chest returning. He loved you so damn much, always just so good to him.

He rolled your dress up your waist, not bothering to fully undress you. This had to be a quickie cause if your mom came home, he didn’t have a valid excuse as to why you two were out for so long.

He swallows the drool that gathers in his mouth when he sees your cute little baby pink panties, the ones he always loved so much cause they always revealed just how wet you were. “Princess,” his eyebrows draw together, and he basically moans at the sight of your pussy. He’s missed it so much that he feels himself losing all type of strength in his body, and it was dangerous because any time you wanted, you could have him however you liked.

The time it takes for him to drop his pants is nonexistent. He reveals his hard veiny cock for your eyes to feast on.

You rubbed your legs together, clenching around nothing at the sight. You miss him inside you so much, and you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again after so long.

He throws his suit tie over his shoulder and hovers over you laying his heavy cock on your core teasingly. “What to do with you?” He hums. “Such a naughty slut giving away what’s not yours” he kissed your cheek, brushing the tip of his nose along your jawline, feeling you up while he thought about how to punish you. “You don’t even deserve my cock” he whispered and licked the shell of your ear.

“Daddy, please,” you whine, already on the verge of tears because you need to feel him so bad your body has been craving him ever since that week you spent with him.

“No, don’t say please now. You should have thought about that when you let another man inside you,” he grunted and pressed his hips into you roughly. “As a matter of fact,” he leans back and sits on the seat in the back, legs spread open, giving you a clear view of his hard leaking cock. He wants nothing more than to feel you wrapped around him, but now both of you have to suffer because you decided to be naughty. “Yes,” he hisses, throwing his head back into the seat while slowly tugging his cock as you sit there and helplessly watch. “Since you wanted to be bad, here’s your punishment,” he spits on his shaft, using it as a lubricant to work his length up and down nice and slow, quickly checking his surroundings before focusing back on you. “You can look, but don’t touch,” he smirks at you while touching himself, and it’s not even a fraction of when you do it, but it’ll have to suffice for now.

“No, Daddy, I swear I didn’t do anything with him.” you instantly tell the truth. At first, the idea of being punished sounded fun, but you didn’t know it’d be like this.

“Now, princess, if you keep lying to me, I won’t even let you watch,” he threatens.

“Please believe me.” You inch closer to him, your round, innocent eyes making him feel weak, but he keeps his ground.

“Another word out of you, and we’re going home,” he warns you, and you sit there helplessly leaking arousal and watching him touch himself.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from saying something, and you eye his tip wishing you could lick it clean for him, suck him off, and make him feel real good.

“Like what you see? This is what did it for you in the first place, yeah? Walking in on your stepdad getting off, you liked that right? fucking nasty little thing” he pumps his cock faster, spitting again to wet it up. You moaned quietly when little wet sounds entered the small space of the back seat as his fist met his full balls.

Just touching himself alone wasn’t going to get him there, but usually, a little added dirty talk always did the trick, but not even today was that working. He was getting so close, but it wasn’t quite working because he needed you. He couldn’t get off anymore if it wasn’t you. “Lift up your skirt, show Daddy that wet pussy, baby,” he commanded, his fist working on his stiff cock desperately.

You immediately spread your legs and pull up your skirt, slipping your panties to the side so he can see how wet you are for him. “Fuck” He wishes he could just bend you over and fuck into you rough and hard, but you needed to learn your fucking lesson.

You swiped a finger through your slit, gathering your slick on your fingers, giving him a show. “Daddy’s gonna fucking cum” he looks at you, noticing the tears in your eyes, and he immediately stops knowing he might have taken things a bit too far. He wasn’t trying to make you sad or upset. He just wanted you to learn not to give away what was his. “Princess, what’s wrong?” He asks with worry, doing a complete 180 in mere seconds.

“Don’t want daddy to cum alone, wanna make you feel good” he nearly cums from your words alone, and he swears he’d never get used to you being so eager just to please him.

“I know, princess, but you gotta learn.” he cups your face, swiping away your tears.

“Daddy, I promise I wouldn’t do anything with anyone else but you. I only said it to make you jealous.” You sniffle and hug your arms around his waist.

He stiffened in your hold, freezing up at your confession. He said all those things to you, and it wasn’t even true. To say he felt stupid would be an understatement. “So you didn’t have sex with anyone else but me?” He says, almost afraid to even ask cause the thought of you with someone else other than him made his stomach turn.

“Nope,” you reply, rejoicing that his tone was less harsh than before.

“And you did it just to make me jealous?” He asks again just to confirm.

“Yeah, just wanted your attention, Daddy. Did it work?” You say playfully.

“Yeah, it worked,” you giggle softly, tears drying now that he wasn’t upset with you anymore. “You really are a bad girl,” he grins completely relieved, and he doesn’t care how naughty you are. As long as you didn’t let anyone touch you, you could be as bad as you wanted. “Bend over, you little trouble maker” he released you from his grip, and you bent over immediately, pulling your underwear down for him to have access to your dripping cunt. “Now that’s a good girl,” he spanks your ass, earning a whimper from you. “Stick that ass in the air for me” You shift a bit more, arching your back and sticking your ass up just the way he liked it. “There you go” he spanked you again and smoothed over your plump cheeks with his palms slotting his hard cock between your ass. “Tell Daddy how bad you want it, how bad you miss it,” he says in a daze-like state already, softly rutting himself against your supple flesh.

“So bad, miss you inside me wanna feel you fucking me deep and stuffing me with your cum daddy please” You don’t care how desperate you sound because it’s true you just need him to fill you up whenever he was inside you you felt complete.

“Aww, my princess, daddy’s got you.” You felt relieved from his words, your eyes falling shut as you rested your cheek in the backseat, just waiting to feel him deep inside you.

He doesn’t want to make you wait any longer than he already has, so without preparation, he slowly starts easing his way in. It feels tight, almost too tight to fit, but when he checked on you, you told him to keep going, and he wasn’t about to protest. “Always so wet,” he murmured behind you, lifting up his shirt and tucking it beneath his chin to watch his dick getting lost inside your tight cunt.

“Yes,” you sigh in pleasure. The stretch is a little painful, but you can take it cause it still feels really good.

He lazily rocks his hips, burying himself deeper inside you inch by inch. He loves hearing you whine every time he feeds more dick into you. He always thought you sounded so cute when you took him nice and deep.

He groaned and bit his lip, dick twitching as he feels you clenching down on his cock hard. “Feel good, princess?” his voice sounds far too sweet for what he’s doing to you, but the naughty-to-nice contrast just makes it feel even better.

You moan in response, but that’s good enough for him. He bends down, placing a single kiss on the back of your neck. “You’re so tight,” he whispers and bottoms out. “I missed this so much,” he admits. “You don’t understand.” he massaged your hips with his large hands, letting his thoughts run wild. “Been dreaming about you,” and he may have a habit of saying too much sometimes, but does he care? fuck no, he feels safe with you, safe enough to let his genuine thoughts out for the first time in a long time. “Haven’t even touched my wife since I had you.”

“Daddy,” you whine from his confession. You’ve felt the same ever since your first time with him. You dreamt of you and him together every night. “Missed you too.”

Something about that name wasn’t sounding quite right to him at this moment. This was far more than just some quick fuck to him. “Call me by my name, angel.” he tilts his head to the side, maintaining that perfect pace, the one he figured out you liked the most, which just so happened to be his favorite too, or maybe it became his favorite because of you who really knows.

You whimper weakly and slowly push yourself against him, matching his sensual thrusts, and somehow, this feels so much more intimate than anything you’ve ever done with him before. Despite the lack of space, the location, and the position, this felt raw and real. “Heeseung, it feels so good,” you pant out.

“Yeah?” his response comes out in one long breath as he watches you rocking back and forth on his girth. “So good. Wanna see your pretty face, my Angel girl” he withdraws from your hole, leaving you clenching and empty, but not for long as he turns you over and slides right back in, both of you, letting out loud breathy noises as he does so. “Beautiful,” he pecked your lips. “So beautiful.” he guided your legs around his waist, taking his spot between them slowly stroking your silky walls. “Give me your hands,” he says softly. You catch a glimpse of the look in his eyes, and it’s so sweet and tender it makes your chest swell. “I love you.” he clasps his hands with yours. “I swear I do.” he touched his forehead with yours, taking a leap of faith with his confession. Even if you didn’t like him that way, he just needed you to know that’s how he felt about you.

Nothing but warmth flooded your body at his confession. “I love you too, heeseung,” he swears he hears wrong until you say it again. “I love you so much.”

He wasn’t the type to cry often, but after hearing that, it was impossible for him to hold it in and seeing him cry made you tear up as well. “Yeah?” He laughs slightly, making your heart melt as a tear runs down his cheek.

“Yes, heeseung.” he rolls his hips, unable to keep himself still after your confession. He needs all of you. He wants to feel and hear every last precious sound you make for him.

“You’re perfect for me, so perfect.” he buried himself to the hilt inside you, stroking you deeply, every last inch of him imprinting your walls, marking you as his, as his tip stretched you wide opening you up to take his full length. “Fuck angel,” he whimpers, and he felt so helpless as you gripped his cock so snugly.

“Mmh hee,” you breathe into his mouth, back arching so far it almost hurt, but it was no concern when you felt his tip softly bumping your cervix. “You’re so big, can feel you so deep,” you cry out as you place your hands on his pecs, unintentionally stimulating his erect nipples. “Love the way you feel,” you whisper and close the gap between you both. His lips automatically work against yours, and nothing else fills his mind but the need to please you to the fullest.

He moaned into the kiss, sweat building on his forehead as that pleasuring tingling sensation crept up on him. He felt so good, so warm, so safe and secure in your presence. “Y/n, I’m- oh, I’m cumming” he breaks away from you, strained groans falling from his lips as you feel him twitching inside you, the mix of him stuffing you full of cum and the way his abdomen grinds against your clit sends you to your end, little pleas and whimpers coming from your shaking figure as you feel full of nothing but love. “That’s it, baby, let go,” he says while rotating his skilled hips.

“Hee.” You moan, running your hands through his damp silky hair, and then place your palm on his cheek. He immediately nuzzles his face into your touch as his eyes flutter close momentarily when they open again. They are full of nothing but adoration. There’s no denying it. “I love you.”

He smiled shyly. “Love you too,” he mutters, and you both laugh in happiness together in the back seat of his car behind your school. Not where you thought you’d be today, but neither of you were complaining.

“Home?” He asks you after you both calm down a bit.

“Yeah,” you swipe your thumb over his bottom lip affectionately. “Home”

He grins excitedly, kissing all over your face. He’s probably a little too excited, but he can’t help it cause the weight he’s been carrying finally feels nonexistent, and you’re finally in his arms again, and that’s all that ever mattered.

When you both arrived home, it was no surprise that your mom wasn’t. Once heeseung saw the coast was clear, he back-hugged you at the door. “Just you and me, angel,” he whispers in your ear. “Shower with me.” he kissed your neck, rubbing his palm over your stomach, making you feel butterflies all over. “Please.” he tightened his grip on you, making it even harder for you to say no.

“What if-“

“Shh, don’t worry about that, just come with me,” he says in your ear, and you caved in immediately.

“Okay,” you say as he steps to your side, ducking down to hook his arm around the back of your leg. You instinctively put your arm around his neck as he lifted you up bridal style and walked you upstairs.

“Hee,” you giggle and push your face into his neck, tickling him.

The shower was filled with nothing but loving touches and soft, breathless laughter as you both took turns washing each other's bodies.

Once you finished, you helped each other get dressed, and you went downstairs hand in hand. He ordered food, and you both waited on the couch for it to arrive.

After eating, you both cuddled up to each other on the couch and watched TV, sharing kisses here and there, but you couldn’t fully relax knowing that your mom could be home any minute. “Hee, I know you said not to worry, but wha-“

“Mmm, don’t worry, angel. I checked her location. She’s still forty minutes out.” he kissed your temple softly and laced his hand with yours.

“Okay,” you murmur softly and hold onto him, seeking his warmth as you lay your head on his chest.

This.

This feeling is all heeseung’s ever wanted.

“What have you been doing while I was away?” Your mother is currently standing in front of you, interrogating you about why heeseung has been treating her so differently lately. “What have you told him?” She raises her voice, not bothering how loud she gets cause heeseung was at work, and there was no one to hear your cries or protect you.

“Mom, I haven’t told him anything. I swear he doesn’t know,” you reply, tears gathering in your eyes as you tuck your knees to your chest.

“Then why won’t he touch me? Why is he not talking to me?” she steps closer, gripping you by your hair tightly, making you whimper in pain.

“No, Mom, please,” you beg, on the verge of crying when she smacks you across the face.

“Quit lying!” She screams and yanks you off your mattress, when your knees hit the carpet on the floor you wince in pain. “Whatever you did, fix it. If he finds out, I’ll lose everything, so you better keep your mouth shut, you hear me? DO YOU HEAR ME??!” you nod your head weakly, but just for good measure, she goes to your window, grabbing the wand, and detaching it from your blinds.

“Mom!” You cry out as she whips your bare skin, avoiding your arms and legs on purpose so no one would notice. “Please,” you beg past your tears, pleading with her to stop, but she doesn’t. She never does. “I won’t say anything,” you choke out, tears running out as she ignores you and keeps hitting you ruthlessly. Your body shook on the ground, and you couldn’t do anything but sit there and let it happen. She’d probably kill you if you ever tried to fight back.

“Remember what I told you,” she huffs out a breath, tossing the rod on your body, making you flinch before she walks to your door, leaving you a hyperventilating mess on the floor. “I’m going out. Don’t you dare say a word to him when he gets back, or else next time will be so much worse.”

Heeseung came home in good spirits after work. His wife was gone, and he knew you’d be home at this time.

It’s funny, less than a month ago, he’d be sad that his wife wasn’t home, but now he didn’t much care as bad as it sounds, he just didn’t feel anything towards her anymore, not like he used to.

He walked upstairs, taking a peek inside your room. Pouting when he saw that your back was turned and you were sleeping, but it was okay you probably needed to rest. He knew you had a habit of working your little brain over time.

He cleaned up a bit and went to his bed, killing some time with a little bit of light reading before bed.

You shifted uncomfortably in your sleep, and you woke up from the slight ache in your body. The pain definitely wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it wasn’t the best feeling in the world.

Your eyes landed on the clock. They lit up once you realized it was half past ten, and heeseung had gotten home a little while ago. You sprung out of bed, running to the bathroom to bandage your wounds and wash up.

When you were finished, you immediately went to his room, opening the door right away, not even concerned if he was still awake or not cause you were just too excited to see him. “Hey!” He smiles as soon as you enter and playfully jump on his bed.

“Hi,” you smile and rest your face in your palms, happily kicking your feet.

“Come here.” he sets his book on the nightstand and takes his glasses off as you climb up on his chest, burying your face in his pecs, making him chuckle from your cuteness.

“Miss you,” you say, muffled into his bare chest, listening to the soft bass in his voice when he laughs.

“I was just about to say that.” he placed his large hand over the small of your back, stroking it lightly as you trailed his chest muscles between the opening of his unbuttoned shirt.

You scooted back on the bed, leveling your face with his crotch area as he cocked his brow, watching you settle yourself between his legs as you rested your cheek on his thigh, eyeing the soft bulge in his pants.

You rubbed his thighs up and down teasingly, nudging your cheek on his clothed cock. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You giggle and pop open the button on his black suit pants and pull down the zipper.

His expression turns dark instantly as he watches you. “Y/n,” he groans as you grip his semi-hard cock.

He lifts his hips up ever so slightly to bring his pants further down for you.

You peel back the fabric covering the tiny hole in the front, drool pooling in your mouth instantly at the sight of his thick veiny girth. Pursing your lips, you pull his cock out, kissing it immediately, and he moans quietly from the feeling of your soft warm lips running along his hard leaking cock.

You licked the tip clean as you pumped the lower part and playfully tapped his thick head on your lips, a thin string of precum sticking to your pretty plump lips. You quit with the teasing and open your mouth wide, taking him balls deep right away.

His legs tremble when he feels your warm, wet mouth taking him deep. “Angel, your mouth feels like heaven,” he breathed out, listening to the sounds of your mouth slurping and sucking on his hard dick.

“Yeah?” You say when you pull off him with a pop to take a small breather.

“Yes,” you could feel yourself throbbing when you hear his high-pitched, whiny voice, you loved hearing him get like that for you.

You twist your wrist, fisting his cock as you trail your free hand to the hem of his shirt, pushing the material out of the way. You lean down, sucking a nipple into your mouth, earning a loud groan from him. “What the-fuck!” he moans, unable to comprehend the pleasure he’s feeling. His wife has never ever done anything like what you are doing to him right now. He’s never felt so much pleasure at once. The way you paid close attention to every little detail about him made him love you oh so much more.

You hum against his chest, flicking each of his nipples with the tip of your tongue, making him squeeze your waist as you pump his dick faster.

You replace your mouth with your hand, still stimulating his nipples while you wrap your mouth around his cock once more. “Oh fuck” his whimpers fill your ears, and you’re more than pleased that he’s so vocal it just lets you know that you’re the one making him feel so good that he just can’t keep quiet.

“Y/n, can you?” he immediately shuts his mouth, feeling way too embarrassed to admit what he really wants. He always wanted to experience the feeling, but he never dared ask his wife in case she thought it was weird, and even though he trusted you with his life, he still didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“Hmm?” You hum around his dick, swirling your tongue on the tip.

“It’s nothing,” he lies.

“Hee, come on, you can tell me,” you say softly after pulling off him momentarily.

When you ask so prettily, he can’t resist telling you, even if that meant you’d stop what you were doing to him. “My…” his face gets hot, and he’s actually not sure if he can go through with this. “Suck..” he muttered, guiding your hand to cup his balls, moaning loud at the small contact.

You grin lustfully and lightly squeeze on his full sack, earning a whimper from him. “Want me to suck your balls?” He nods shyly. “Yeah?”

“Yes, please,” he loses his voice the instant you suck one into your mouth. “Uhh, that’s it,” he moans, eyelids drooping even more from the pleasure. “Keep sucking on my balls, angel” he peeled his shirt to the side, fondling his nipples while you jerked him off and inhaled his balls, sucking on them lightly, and you’re doing such a good job he feels like he’s in heaven. “Gonna cum soon,” he losses himself, mouth hung wide open and whimpering loudly while watching each of his balls disappear into your petty little mouth.

You quickly put your lips back on his tip, awaiting his cum on your tongue while fondling his heavy balls. “Take all my cum, angel” he pinched his nipples hard and shot his thick milky load in your throat, his hips involuntarily bucking up to gently fuck your mouth as he filled you up, moaning your name over and over again, it felt so good that his toes curled down into the mattress, muscles twitching and body jerking with each spill of seed as his balls continued to throb on your bottom lip while you hungrily swallowed all of his hot cum.

Sucking him through his high, you release his soft cock from your mouth and lick the corners of your lips, collecting all his cum before kissing his tip one last time. “Good?” You smile mischievously, already knowing his answer.

“So good,” he huffs, eyes lidded and filled with love.

You began tucking his cock back inside his boxers. “No.” he reached for the waistband of his underwear, getting ready to take them off cause it was your turn now. “I’m gonna make you feel good too.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, remembering the wounds on your skin. There’s no way you could let him find out what was happening behind his back. Your mother would never forgive you.

He looked at you, a hint of disappointment in his eyes from your lack of enthusiasm for him. “Do you just not want to…?” he lifts his slacks back around his waist.

“No, it’s not that I just wanted to do something nice for you, nothing in return.” you hope he believes what you’re saying. Of course, you want him, but even your horrible mother had to get in the way of your relationship with heeseung.

“What? That’s nonsense. I want to give you something in return,” he says and reaches for your shirt, but you flee from his touch.

“Heeseung, it’s really okay,” you lie.

“So…. you just don’t want me?” He says, clearly confused.

“No!” You’re quick to clarify. “Of course I do!”

“Then get back over here,” he giggles, relieved that you weren’t telling him off.

You try to scoot off the bed, but he quickly catches you. “Got you!” he smiles while hovering over you.

“Let me go!” You giggle and squirm, but it’s no use. He’s far too strong for you.

“You’re all mine now,” he giggles, and as soon as his hand makes contact to tickle you, you wince in pain.

Shit.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He pouted and leaned back, making sure he wasn’t crushing you.

“No, I’m fine.” you gripped the hem of your shirt, making sure he couldn’t lift it up.

“Y/n, what’s going on?” He says sternly there’s definitely something more going on. You saying you didn’t want anything in return the strange behavior, and now you’re covering up.

“I’m just tired, that’s all.” you come up with every lie on the spot. The only problem was that not a single one was believable.

“Then let me do all the work.” he gets back on top of you, and even though you try to hold your shirt down, he immediately lifts it up, breath hitching when he sees the wounds on your skin. His eyes flash to every one, and his brows crease together. “Angel,” he whispers in shock, eyes going wide as the room falls silent while he runs his thumb over the bruise softly.

You lean back immediately, covering yourself and hugging your knees to your chest with tears gathering in your eyes.

It was silent for a half minute before he cradled you in his arms. He didn’t say anything and waited before he jumped to any conclusions about what exactly happened. “Please don’t cry,” he says softly and strokes your hair, but it was too late. Tears were already running down your face from fear, anger, and embarrassment. “Tell me what happened when you’re ready, okay?” He smoothed over your thigh and patted your back, kissing your head gently.

After a few minutes, you calmed down a bit. He leaned back, analyzing your broken expression before kissing the tears away from your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you sob quietly. Thoughts begin stirring in his head about what you could possibly be sorry for, and no matter how anxious he was, he simply waits for an answer cause he doesn’t want to pressure you into speaking if you don’t want to.

Your cries were literally breaking his heart. He just wanted to know what was wrong so he could try to fix it. “Shh, just breathe, okay? I’m here, y/n, I’m here.” he kissed your forehead, reassuring you over and over that he was there for you.

“Promise you won’t tell my mom, and you won’t be mad?” You hug him closer, thinking that he might run away after you told him the truth.

That was a big promise for him to keep, but he’d keep it for you. “I promise.”

“Mom,” that’s all you said, and you felt him tense up, which made you clutch onto him tighter.

“Angel, what are you saying?” If you were implying what he thought you were, then he’s not sure if he could keep the promise that he just made.

You wordlessly revealed the bruises on your midsection, and he clenched his jaw.

“You’re saying that my wife y-your mom did this to you?” His voice was laced with pure disgust as he examined your poor state. “N-no,” he shook his head back and forth in denial, not because he didn’t believe you but because you were going through this, and he had no idea you were suffering all alone. “Angel, no,” his eyes shook, tears welling in them as they turned bloodshot, but his sadness quickly turned into pure anger at the thought of your mother hurting you like this. “You can’t really expect me not to do anything about this!”

“Heeseung, don’t please,” you cried.

“No! You can’t keep going through this,” he yelled, and you flinched. “Fuck” he mutters softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, Angel. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Don’t, I’ll be fine. It’s nothing new anyway.” you zipped your mouth after that, trying not to reveal anything more, but it was too late.

“How long?” He asked, running his fingers through his hair.

“Since before I met you,” your lips wobbled, your body shaking with fear and anxiety.

Now everything made sense. No wonder your mom treated you like that. No wonder every time he stuck up for you, she got upset. “Hey, look at me,” he cupped your cheeks, smiling slightly because at least now your suffering would all be over. He was going to make sure you never got harmed by anyone ever again. “I’ll protect you.” You’re not sure how he’d go about doing that since every time he left for work, she’d hit you, but you trusted him. The look in his eyes made you believe that his words are true and that he’d protect you. “Okay?” He cupped your cheek, leaning in to press a kiss on your lips.

“Okay,” you whisper against his mouth and go in for another kiss.

He hums, letting you take the lead. He wasn’t going to make any moves that might kill the moment or make you uncomfortable.

You deepen the kiss, leaning into him more and placing your hand on his thigh. He matched your movements easily, keeping up with the slow pace of things.

You whine, and he grabs your thigh, pulling you onto his lap. Immediately you roll your hips, humping the bulge in his slacks. “Are you sure you want this right now?” He asked while rubbing your hips.

“Yes, want you to take the pain away,” you whispered and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Need you, Seung,” you moan, feeling his cock brushing against your clit through your clothing.

“I will, angel, I promise,” he whispers, entranced by you, and he needs you just as much as you needed him, if not more.

“I love you so much,” heeseung confesses. Your clothes long gone, his wedding ring far away from his finger as well as his picture frame from the wedding facing the wall, and he looks into your eyes so lovingly while stroking your cheek with his thumb and rolling his hips, reaching the deepest parts of you.

“I love you too, Seung,” you say breathlessly, your high feeling closer than ever as he runs his thumb over your clit.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again,” he promises and ducks his head down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, sealing all his love for you in that moment.

“Hee,” you whimper his words, taking you right to the edge as you spasm around him.

“Close, angel?” He moans, using every muscle in his body to make you feel good. He made out with your pretty wet folds earlier, stretched your beautiful hole open just right so he could make you feel full to the brim, and he kissed every single bruise on your precious, delicate skin, taking the pain away and replacing it with his love for you everything about this night was beyond perfect and not a second went by where you didn’t feel loved by the man above you he was so perfect and you made sure he knew it.

You nod confirming his words. Just seconds later, you release on his length, making you both gasp out and cry in pleasure as he messily locks lips with you again and again.

“Love you, seung, love you so much.” you breathe into his mouth, teeth clashing together, but neither of you can care, too caught up in this moment of complete bliss and euphoria.

“Love you too, my precious y/n,” strangled moans leave his lips, the first rope of cum spurting inside you, covering your insides white. The second one follows, and you feel that warmth that you loved so much, that feeling that only he could give to you.

When you see the tears in his eyes, you cry with himea, and he smiles at you.

He wraps you up in his arms, sharing his warmth as your highs take over your body. He’s still lazily rolling his hips and softly playing with your little pearl until you both reach your highest point and slowly come back down.

When the initial pleasure fades, he nudges your nose and finds his face buried in your neck. You’re both panting heavily and exhausted from lovemaking, and all you want to do is bask in each other's arms.

And that’s what you do, but the risk of getting caught is too high, especially cause you’re both in his bed. After you fall asleep, he takes you to your room and quickly changes the sheets so your mom won’t notice anything and goes back to sleep. He wishes you could be there with him, but he’d make that happen really soon.

“What is this?” Your mother barges through the door angrily, catching you and heeseung on the sofa holding each other. You quickly jump off his lap in shock, heart racing uncontrollably in your chest meanwhile, heeseung sits still, hiding you behind him. “How could you do this to me heeseung?!” She fake cries using her little victim tactic, except this time, it doesn’t work.

Usually, when heeseung heard his wife’s cries, it broke him to bits, but now he could only chuckle because of her nerve. Earlier in the morning, you had opened up to heeseung about everything that had been going on cause he deserved to know the full truth, and when he asked you to tell him what had been happening, you told him everything straight from the beginning.

And normally, it would have been upsetting for him to hear that his own wife was cheating on him, but he had no feelings other than relief from knowing she gave him just another reason to file for divorce after he found out the things she had done to you he had no love in his heart for her not even an ounce.

He never suspected his wife of being a cheater. He always trusted her no matter how many times she went out without telling him her whereabouts, but it also wasn’t a surprise when he found out cause the dots were connecting now. He no longer wondered why she was gone cause now he knew she was out cheating or hanging out with friends and spending his money. No wonder she didn’t want to treat him like a husband. It’s because she had someone else on the side. No wonder she didn’t want his body, no wonder after they got married, she showed zero interest in him. Now, he knew it was all just a ploy and a scheme to get half his assets and leave. Boy, was he blind, but thankfully, he now had you to show him to truth. Now he had someone that actually appreciated him, and instead of regretting his whole marriage, he was thankful for it cause it’s what ultimately led him to you, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“How could I do this to you?” He stands up and folds his arms an amused smile on his lips. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“W-what are you saying?” Her eyes shake between you both, and before anything can get thrown her way or accuse her of anything, she puts her dirty little plan in motion. “I can’t believe you’d break up the family like this, and I never thought I’d say this, but heeseung, I-I want a divorce!”

When he doesn’t give her the desired reaction is when she finally shows her true colors. “You’re right. It is the other way around,” she laughs, and heeseung can’t believe he ever even thought she was beautiful cause now everything about her was mean, ugly, and evil. “But at least now I’m finally free away from you both. You disgust me. I only ever stayed for your money. I never loved you. You know why I never had sex with you after we married? It’s because I despised you and I hated how I had to be attached to you, but in the end, it was all worth it cause now I get to live my life far away from you and that disgrace of a daughter of mine now I can live with the man of my dreams, and you can stay stuck with that disgusting bitch!” She yells at you, and you flinch, tears stinging your eyes cause through everything, she was still your mother.

“Funny how you call someone else a bitch” he laughs. “Are you done? Cause if you are, get out, and if I ever hear you call her out of her name again, I won’t be as nice.” Heeseung puts a protective arm around you for comfort. He could only imagine how you were feeling. Hell, it was hard for him, and he was just her husband, but as a daughter, it must feel so much worse.

“Not till half of everything is mine,” she states confidently.

“All yours.” he doesn’t fight back cause he has one little trick up his sleeve that neither of you knew about.

“Heeseung,” you whisper to him. He couldn’t just give her everything after what she’s done.

“It’s okay, angel, I got us, I swear” he kissed the crown of your head, and she scoffed.

“I want all my stuff packed by morning and I expect you to be nowhere in sight.” She turns on her heels confidently, striding out the door.

“Come here, angel, don’t mind anything she says, okay? I love you, my precious Angel, and you’re the furthest thing from any of those foul names she called you.” he rubs your cheek softly, and you melt into his touch. It would be hard moving on from this and living a life without your mother for the first time, but with heeseung, you felt like you could do anything. He made you feel safe, and he always knew the right words to say to make everything better.

“I love you, hee.” You hug him tightly, inhaling his scent, never wanting to let him go. You both sat in silence, taking everything in as he promised he’d do his best to make you feel loved the right way. “But what about all your stuff? Are you really going to let her take it all?” He just smiled at you, appreciating your concern for him and his belongings, but he had that covered too.

“Angel, I have cameras throughout the entire mansion so anything she’s ever done is on tape” he never once in his life thought that he’d have to use his cameras for abuse in his own family, but unfortunately, that’s what it’s come to, and though this would be a long grueling process in the court for you and him, he just knew after everything you both could live happily ever after, he could show you what real love felt like and he would keep you safe from all your mother's 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

𝐅𝐈𝐍.

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[sonarspace]

༉ BLOW OUT ALL THE CANDLES ! (S. GOJO)

꒰ synopsis. you made satoru gojo feel something he rarely ever did—normal, and undeniably special.

content. not proofread. nsfw. öral. blöwjob. cöwgirl (sorta.) orgasms (kinda?).

wc. 3.8k

an. happy birthday to my satoru pie. i love you forever.

satoru gojo didn’t care much for birthdays.

they weren’t a big deal when he was a kid. in his family, birthdays were less about celebration and more about the clan’s ambitions. they were opportunities to build connections, to showcase the strength of the gojo name. grand dinners with stiff smiles, meticulously chosen gifts meant to impress, and the constant reminder that his life wasn’t just his—it belonged to the clan.

as he got older, birthdays became… stranger. his peers either avoided him out of intimidation or fawned over him out of obligation. a few clumsy celebrations with shoko and suguru had been nice, but even those were fleeting, bittersweet reminders of a time he didn’t let himself dwell on. over the years, he perfected the art of shrugging them off. a careless smirk, a throwaway joke, and people stopped trying to make a big deal of it.

but you weren’t most people.

so when the doorbell to his apartment rang on his birthday evening, he didn’t expect much. maybe yuuji or nobara with some half-baked chaos to drag him into, or shoko dropping off cheap booze alongside a biting remark about his eternal man-child status. what he wasn’t expecting was you.

you stood there, a box of cupcakes balanced in one hand and a single cupcake in the other, topped with a tiny, flickering candle.

“what’s this?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe, his grin lazy but curious. “you come to serenade me?”

“in your dreams,” you retorted, brushing past him and into the warmth of his apartment without waiting for an invitation. “happy birthday, satoru.”

he blinked, caught off guard by your casual entrance and the lack of fanfare. you set the box on the coffee table and placed the lone cupcake beside it, turning to face him with your arms crossed, like you weren’t about to take no for an answer.

“make a wish,” you said, nodding toward the flickering candle.

“a cupcake?” he teased, his voice laced with mock disbelief as he moved closer. “no fireworks? no parade?”

“you get enough attention,” you replied with a shrug. “i figured you could use something normal for once.”

the word hit him unexpectedly. normal. it was such an ordinary thing, so far removed from the fabric of his life, yet the way you said it, like it wasn’t out of reach for him—like you could give it to him—made it feel almost tangible.

his grin softened as he lowered himself onto the couch, his gaze lingering on the candle a beat longer than necessary. he hesitated, the faintest flicker of vulnerability crossing his features, before he leaned forward and blew it out. the flame disappeared in a curl of smoke, and he watched it fade as if expecting something more to happen.

“what’d you wish for?” you asked, settling beside him, your tone light, but your curiosity barely hidden.

he leaned back, draping one arm across the couch’s back, the smirk slipping easily back into place. “if i told you, it wouldn’t come true.”

you tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. “oh, i’ve got it. you wished for the power to finally stop using so much hair gel.”

his laugh was instant, warm and unguarded. “excuse you. this is natural. flawless, even.”

“of course,” you said, rolling your eyes with exaggerated seriousness. “how could i forget? the hair, the face, the attitude—you’re a walking genetic miracle.”

“now you’re catching on,” he replied, leaning slightly closer. “being this amazing isn’t easy.”

“it sounds exhausting,” you said, mirroring his smirk. “you should write a memoir. ‘satoru gojo: the struggles of being too beautiful for this world.’”

he placed a hand over his heart, feigning a dramatic sigh. “you wound me. but let’s be honest—you’d buy a copy.”

“wrong. i’d steal one,” you quipped. “wouldn’t pay a cent.”

his laughter softened as he shook his head, his grin fading into something smaller, quieter as he glanced at the box. he pulled it open and grabbed a cupcake, peeling the wrapper with an almost boyish carelessness. his first bite was deliberate, and the faint hum of approval he let out made your stomach flip, though you didn’t dare show it.

“what?” you asked, catching the subtle shift in his expression.

he shook his head, licking a stray bit of frosting from his thumb. “nothing. just… been a while since i’ve had something like this.”

“a cupcake?” you teased lightly.

“something simple,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “this feels… nice.”

the words lingered, unpolished and unintentional, like he hadn’t meant to say them out loud. you studied him for a moment, the usual bravado softened, the ever-present walls of gojo satoru slipping away to reveal something more vulnerable underneath.

“you deserve nice things,” you said, your voice gentle but firm.

he glanced at you, his smirk faltering for just a moment before creeping back, though it was softer this time. “careful,” he said, his tone playful, “you’re starting to sound like you like me.”

“don’t let it go to your head,” you shot back, bumping his shoulder lightly.

his chuckle was low, and when he leaned back into the couch, his expression was unguarded, his gaze steady. “too late,” he said, his voice quieter now. “you already made my day.”

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth in his tone lingered, settling deep in your chest like an ember refusing to burn out. it was the kind of warmth that reminded you this wasn’t the strongest sorcerer in the world sitting next to you, the untouchable, larger-than-life gojo satoru who wore his arrogance like armor. this was just him—barefoot in his apartment, smirking over a cupcake, his guard down in a way you rarely got to see.

and as the thought settled over you, steady and sure, you realized you wanted to keep him like this—unguarded, real, and yours, if only for tonight.

the two of you fell into an easy rhythm after that. the cupcake led to takeout, and soon the coffee table was littered with empty containers, the sound of your laughter filling the quiet apartment.

you’d known satoru for years now, ever since your paths crossed during a particularly chaotic mission that required his abilities and your steady resourcefulness to pull off. somehow, your friendship had stuck. you weren’t part of his clan, nor a student at his school. you were simply you—a constant in his otherwise turbulent life.

“so, birthdays,” you said at one point, your tone casual. “not your thing?”

he shrugged, popping the last bite of your dumplings into his mouth before replying. “they’re just… another day.”

you raised an eyebrow. “seriously? not even a little excitement?”

he hesitated, his usual cocky demeanor faltering just slightly. “when you’re me, birthdays are… complicated.”

you didn’t push, but the way you looked at him—curious, patient—made something in him unravel.

“when i was a kid, they were more about the clan than me,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “every party, every gift—it was all about connections. alliances. showing off what the gojo name could do.”

your expression softened, the weight of his words settling over you. “that sounds… lonely.”

he gave a half-smile, his gaze flickering to the melted wax still pooled on the cupcake. “yeah,” he said softly. “it was.”

you tilted your head, studying him for a moment before speaking. “what about what you want?”

he blinked, caught off guard by the question. “what i want?”

“yeah,” you said, leaning back against the couch. “what would make your birthday feel special?”

he didn’t respond right away, his gaze drifting to the candle. “this,” he said finally, his voice softer. “this is nice.”

later, as the night wound down, you reached into your bag, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box. “i got you something,” you said, your voice softer now, your fingers fidgeting slightly as you handed it to him.

he took it with a curious look, tearing into the wrapping with his usual enthusiasm. when he lifted the lid, his expression shifted, surprise flickering across his features.

inside was a sleek, custom-designed blindfold. the material was a soft, matte black with subtle silver detailing at the edges—practical but elegant. as he turned it over in his hands, you could see the faintest flicker of emotion cross his usually carefree expression.

“figured you might like something a little different,” you said, your tone almost shy as you watched him. “still functional, of course, but… you know, something that’s actually yours.”

he ran his thumb over the stitching, his voice quiet. “you had this made?”

“yeah,” you admitted, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks. “i just thought you'd like something that’s just… you.”

his throat tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. he turned the blindfold over in his hands, his usual cocky demeanor softened by something quieter, more vulnerable. “you didn’t have to do this.”

“i wanted to,” you replied simply.

he looked up at you then, his usually mischievous eyes holding something deeper. “this might be the best gift i’ve ever gotten,” he said softly.

you laughed lightly, trying to shake off the sudden weight of the moment. “well, don’t get used to it. next year, it’s back to birthday cards.”

he chuckled, slipping the blindfold into his pocket with a small, genuine smile. “thank you,” he said again, his voice low and sincere.

the quiet shifted, the weight of the day settling in as the distance between you felt like it had shrunk into nothing. it wasn’t just the laughter, or the teasing, or even the gift. it was the way he looked at you now, unguarded and steady, like you’d managed to slip past the walls he kept so carefully built.

“satoru,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. the sound of his name made him shift closer, his hand moving to your waist, his touch light but deliberate.

“hmm?” he hummed, his gaze dropping to your lips.

“happy birthday,” you said softly, and then his lips were on yours.

his lips moved against yours with a mix of urgency and reverence, like he couldn’t get enough but wanted to savor every second. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you, his body warm and solid against yours. every touch, every kiss, felt like it carried the weight of all the things he wasn’t saying aloud.

“you’re full of surprises tonight,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm as his nose brushed yours.

“you haven’t seen anything yet,” you teased, though your voice came out softer than you intended. he chuckled, the sound low and rich, vibrating through you as he kissed along the line of your jaw.

his hands found the hem of your shirt, tugging it up with maddening slowness, his fingertips grazing your sides and sending shivers down your spine. the shirt joined the growing pile of forgotten items on the floor, leaving you in just your bra. his eyes flicked over you, his smirk fading into something darker, more intent.

“beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. the way his gaze lingered on you, like he was committing every detail to memory, made your cheeks flush.

you opened your mouth to say something, but then he was reaching for the cupcake you’d brought. his grin returned, wide and mischievous as he scooped a dollop of frosting onto his finger.

“satoru,” you started, already suspicious. “don’t—”

but he was already leaning forward, smearing the frosting just above your collarbone, the coolness of it making you shiver.

“you’re impossible,” you muttered, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

“i’m creative,” he corrected, his grin widening as his mouth followed, his tongue warm and deliberate as he licked the frosting away. the contrast of cold and heat sent a jolt through you, your fingers tightening against his shoulders.

he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath brushing your skin as he whispered, “want to know what i wished for?”

your heart stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “what?”

his lips curved into a softer smile—less playful, more genuine. “this,” he murmured. “you.”

the words landed heavy in the space between you, sinking into your chest and stealing the air from your lungs. the teasing glint in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something raw and unguarded that made your chest ache.

“satoru,” you murmured, his name slipping from your lips before you could stop it. it felt more vulnerable than you meant it to, but the way his expression softened in response made you glad you’d said it.

“say it again,” he whispered, his hand reaching for more frosting. this time, he smeared it just above the curve of your breast, his grin turning wicked as he leaned down, his tongue following the sugary trail. the warmth of his mouth, paired with the way his hand slid behind you to unclasp your bra, had your breath hitching.

“satoru,” you gasped, your back arching instinctively as his lips lingered against your skin.

“good girl,” he growled softly, the praise sending heat straight to your core. he tossed your bra aside, his gaze dropping to take in the sight of you fully. “god, you’re perfect.”

his hands framed your ribs, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch again. “best birthday ever,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he pressed a kiss between your breasts.

his cerulean eyes glinted mischievously as he suddenly shifted, his hands gripping your hips as he turned, placing you back on the couch with a smooth motion. the world tilted, and before you could register what was happening, he was on his knees in front of you, his broad hands parting your thighs gently, reverently.

“satoru,” you murmured, your voice shaky as he pressed kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his breath warm against you.

“shh,” he whispered, his tone full of appreciation. “let me take my time with you.”

his lips moved slowly, trailing kisses over your thighs before dipping closer to your center, his tongue flicking out to taste you again. you gasped as he found your clit, his tongue pressing firm and wet against it, sending a shock of pleasure through your body. his hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you open as he worked you with a precision that made your toes curl.

“you’re so perfect,” he muttered against you, his voice thick with praise. “taste so sweet—so good for me.”

your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as the heat built low in your stomach. every swipe of his tongue, every low hum he let out, sent sparks through your body, but when your hips bucked into his mouth, you couldn’t stop yourself from tugging harder, yanking him back.

he groaned softly at the sharp pull, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, dazed and hungry. “what are you—”

before he could finish, you pushed him back, your hands firm on his shoulders as you guided him down to the floor. his surprise melted into delight, his grin wide and playful as he propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with open curiosity.

“my turn,” you said, grabbing another cupcake from the table with a smirk.

his brow lifted in amusement, but the playful look in his eyes didn’t waver, even as you smeared the frosting across his sharp jawline. the sticky sweetness painted his pale skin, and you leaned down, your tongue darting out to clean the frosting in slow, deliberate strokes. his breathing hitched as you kissed the trail from his cheek to the corner of his lips, the sugary taste mingling with the salt of his skin.

“another present?” he teased, his voice low and velvety, laced with intrigue.

you didn’t answer, your lips brushing against his jawline, tracing a path to his throat. his breath caught as your tongue flicked against the hollow of his neck, your hands moving to unbutton his shirt with deliberate slowness. the fabric fell away, revealing the smooth planes of his chest, the faint sheen of sweat making his skin glisten in the dim light.

“you’re a menace,” he muttered, his voice dropping as his hands came up to your waist.

“consider it a gift,” you replied, your tone light but teasing as your hands roamed his chest, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your palms.

“some gift,” he murmured, his tone roughening as his fingers brushed against the hem of your shirt. his gaze locked onto yours, the heat in his expression making your stomach tighten.

“you’re welcome,” you quipped, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his collarbone. your lips moved lower, trailing kisses down the sharp lines of his torso, leaving a path of heat in your wake. he let out a low groan, his fingers flexing against your hips as you reached the waistband of his pants.

“you’re full of surprises tonight,” he muttered, his voice thick with anticipation as you unfastened his belt and tugged the fabric down.

your gaze drifted lower, taking in the sight of him fully. his cock was already hard, flushed at the tip and glistening with precum. the sight made your thighs press together instinctively, a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your stomach.

“what’s the matter?” he teased, his voice a bit uneven as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch you. “you look like you’ve seen something you like.”

“you could say that,” you replied, your voice breathy as your hand wrapped around his length, stroking slowly. the weight of him in your hand was intoxicating, the heat of his skin sending a shiver through you. his breath hitched, and his head fell back, exposing the column of his throat as he groaned softly.

“fuck,” he muttered, his hands tightening on your hips. “you’re gonna ruin me.”

“that’s the plan,” you replied with a grin, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his cock, your tongue darting out to taste him.

his reaction was immediate—a sharp inhale, his hands flexing against the floor as he fought to keep still. “shit,” he rasped, his voice rough as his gaze dropped to meet yours. “don’t stop.”

you didn’t. your tongue flicked against him, teasing before you took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you worked him slowly. his breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling with each deliberate stroke of your tongue.

“look at me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. your eyes flicked up, meeting his gaze. his blue eyes were darker now, clouded with desire, and the sight of him—his chest heaving, his jaw tight, his lips parted—made your thighs clench with need.

“fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice a mix of awe and desperation. “you’re too good at this.”

you hummed softly in response, the vibration pulling a low groan from him. your hand joined your mouth, stroking the base of his cock in time with your movements, and the combination had his head falling back again, his hips twitching beneath you.

just as he seemed on the verge of losing control, you pulled back, your lips leaving him with a soft pop. his eyes flew open, wild and questioning, as he looked down at you.

“another present,” you said, your voice teasing as you climbed back up his body, your lips pressing to his jaw, his neck, his collarbone.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you settled over him, the slick heat of your core brushing against him.

“only a little,” you replied, your grin wicked as your hands braced against his chest, your hips rolling against his in a slow, deliberate grind.

his hands slid to your thighs, gripping them firmly as you moved together, his cock buried deep inside you. the wet, slick sounds of your bodies meeting filled the room, mingling with the soft gasps and ragged breaths you couldn’t contain. his gaze locked on yours, heavy-lidded and full of heat, and it made every nerve in your body ignite.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. his hands gripped your hips tighter, guiding your movements as his hips rolled up to meet you, each thrust deeper and more deliberate than the last.

your hands braced against his chest, your nails scraping lightly over the hard planes of muscle as you rode him. the drag of his cock against your walls, the way he filled you completely, sent waves of pleasure through you. his jaw was tight, his head tipped back slightly as he watched you through half-lidded eyes.

“satoru,” you gasped, your voice breaking on the syllables as he thrust up into you harder, hitting the perfect spot that made your vision blur.

“say it again,” he growled, his voice commanding. his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as his hips snapped up into you. “say my name.”

“satoru,” you whimpered, your breath hitching as your body trembled against his. your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as you kissed him, your lips brushing against his in a frantic, heated rhythm.

his movements grew faster, more desperate, as he chased his release. his hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles that made you cry out, your head falling to his shoulder as your body arched into his touch.

“come for me, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and full of praise. “let me feel you.”

the coil in your stomach tightened, the heat building until it was unbearable. and then it snapped, your orgasm crashing over you in waves that left you trembling in his arms. your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and the sound he let out—a low, guttural groan—made your head spin.

“fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust into you one last time. his cock pulsed inside you, his release warm and overwhelming as he buried himself deep, his head falling to your shoulder as his breathing turned ragged.

you stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, your bodies pressed so close it was impossible to tell where you ended and he began. his hands slid up your back, his touch gentle now, almost reverent, as he held you close.

“you’re amazing,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. the words were quiet, but they carried a weight that made your chest ache in the best way.

“happy birthday,” you murmured, your voice soft as your fingers traced the lines of his jaw, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release.

he chuckled softly, the sound warm and full of something you couldn’t quite name. “best birthday ever,” he said, his voice rough but sincere.

you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “you’re welcome.”

his arms tightened around you, pulling you down against his chest, his body warm and solid beneath you. the world outside faded, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his heartbeat against yours, steady and grounding.

“stay,” he murmured, his voice barely audible as his eyes began to close.

“always,” you whispered, your hand sliding to rest against his chest as your own eyes drifted shut.

for the first time in years, satoru gojo didn’t just feel celebrated. he felt loved.

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[yaksha-lover]

Summary: After the events of ghost bride, Vil and Leona decide to continue their competition to determine who is the best suitor. They decide you, being new to the school, are the best option to try and romance.

Multi x GN Reader (Leona, Vil, Ace, Deuce, Floyd, Rook, Azul, Malleus)

Part 2

“Yeah, whatever, you failed too. Doesn’t mean a thing. Any sane person would’ve chosen me over you,” Leona snarks.

“Prove it, then. Let’s choose someone else and we’ll be able to determine who the real winner is,” Vil replies, not bothering to look up from the compact he’s using to apply his makeup.

Leona’s ears perk a little at the idea, but he turns his nose up at it anyway. “Like who? Everyone at this school’s already stepping over each other to get a picture with you. Not exactly a fair competition, blondie.”

“Our dear prefect hasn’t been at the school long, and they’ve never known me as a celebrity since they’re from another world. It seems they would be the fairest way to continue our little competition,” Vil pauses, looking back over at Leona. “If that’s okay with you, your majesty.”

Leona rolls his eyes. “Old bride clearly had no taste. At least the prefect won’t have all these delusional biases about their ‘prince,’” he grumbles. “Fine, they’ll do.”

“Alright, then whoever can get them to accept an invitation to the upcoming semi-formal will be the winner.”

“Deal. Try not to feel too hurt by their rejection, it’s not as though you can compete with a real prince like myself.”

“I’m not worried, you hardly qualify as a prince, lazy second-son that you are. Unless you’re planning to actually try for once? Could it be you have another motivation for wooing the prefect?”

“As if I would go for a pathetic little herbivore like them. I’m in this to prove a point to you, that’s all,” Leona huffs. “You’re the one who suggested them. Projecting, are we?”

Vil smirks at his denial. “My, my, quite the tsundere little kitty you are. I have no reason to deny, I have become quite fond of them recently. Enough to stop you from becoming a perpetual nuisance in their life, at least.”

-

The next day, you sit at your usual lunch table with Ace, Deuce, and Grim, when a certain grumpy lion approaches you.

“Herbivores,” Leona says, narrowing his eyes at the sight of Grim devouring an entire leg of chicken. He turns his gaze to you. “Get up, prefect, I need to talk to you.”

“Kinda busy,” you mumble, mouth full of food.

“Why, hello prefect,” Vil greets, walking over from his table where Rook and Epel watch on. “Ah, let me get that for you.” He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, gently tilting your face when you look up at him and dabbing at the corner of your mouth. “Now you look perfect.” Vil looks up at Leona, saccharine smile ablaze. “Was this man bothering you?”

You ignore his strange behaviour and decide to just continue eating.

Leona glares at him, spotting the rose in Vil’s hand. “Aren’t you about to do the same thing, Schoenheit?”

Vil scoffs, glimpsing the small jewelry box Leona is subtly holding behind his back. “Hardly. I was simply checking in on my dear friend, who seemed distressed by your presence.”

Between Grim looking over at your food every two seconds and the bickering going on above your head, you decide to give in and let him have the rest of yours. “…I think I’m just going to leave.”

The two housewardens are too busy bickering to notice you making your escape, leaving them with the rest of your table.

“I never knew you felt so threatened by me. You really had to resort to sabotaging my attempts?”

“I was not! You just happened to be in the way of my own plans,” Vil dismisses.

Ace finally looks up from his lunch to address the situation. “What’s up with you, housewardens? Why are you hovering around the prefect like that?”

“Stick your nose out of this, freshman. It’s none of your business.”

Vil sighs. “If you must know, I wish to ask the prefect to attend the semi-formal as my date. I came to ask them.”

Ace looks back in forth in surprise between Vil and Leona. “You too, Leona? Huh, never figured you’d be interested in anyone but yourself.”

“Don’t lump me in with him. This is just a competition for me. Neither of us won when trying to charm the ghost, so now I’m going to take my victory over him.”

Ace relaxes a little at his words, turning to the other housewarden. “You’re doing this for a competition, Vil? I know Leona is shameless, but surely you’d never stoop to his level?”

“It’s not just for the competition. I do like the prefect, but now I have the chance to take them to the dance and to show Leona how much more charming I am than him.”

“I mean, I hate to rain on your guys parade but I think it’s a lost cause. The prefect definitely likes me. We’re best friends after all, so they’d probably choose me if I asked.” Ace says nonchalantly, earning him a glare from Deuce. “Not that I’m interested in them! Obviously, I don’t care. But, uh, if it’s a competition, of course I have to win.”

Deuce rolls his eyes: “You’re such an idiot. And wrong. I’m their best friend.”

“And where do you think you’re going?” Vil asks Leona when he starts to walk away.

“To nap. It’s exhausting dealing with you children. Try not to get in my way, next time,” Leona replies, not bothering to turn around as he saunters away.

-

The next time you’re approached by the housewardens is in the hallway after class. You jump in surprise when a hand reaches around your waist to pull you into an empty classroom. The long brown hair that tickles your face gives you a pretty good idea of who the culprit is.

“Prefect,” Leona greets casually , as if he didn’t just basically kidnap you with no explanation.

“What are you doing? Will you let go of me, please,” you sigh.

Leona loosens his grip and turns you around in his arms to face him. He brushes a hand over your cheek, tucking a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he says, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. He’s so close his breath brushes over your neck.” “For me to let go of you?”

“Leona?! I-”

Your response is interrupted by the sound of a bell and the noise of chatting students approaching the classroom you currently occupy. You and Leona fling apart, but there isn’t enough time for you to calm your flustered face before Floyd, just entering the room, is able to see it.

“Shrimpy! What are you doing in here with sea lion?” Floyd takes in your embarrassed expression. “You haven’t been doing anything naughty, have you? And without me?”

“Nothing happened, eel. Let’s go, prefect.”

“Now you’re trying to take shrimpy away after hogging them all to yourself?”

“Sorry, Floyd,” you appease, not wanting to get into another ridiculous situation, “but he’s right. I have a class to get to.”

“Class is boring. I’d much rather be playing with you, but suit yourself. I’ll just have to squeeze you sometime later!”

Leona trails behind you as you walk to your next class, demanding an explanation from him.

“So why did you try and seduce me?”

“Seduce? You’re so perverted. Have you forgotten I’m a prince? I was only trying to-”

His reasoning is interrupted by Crewel’s glare as you silently head into class and take your spot beside Ace, leaving Leona to get a talking to for making you late.

-

“Leona and Vil have both been acting so weird lately, and I don’t know why.”

You miss the side-eye Ace and Deuce give each other as they ‘uh huh’ your venting.

“So,” Ace says, leaning towards you a bit, “Have you heard of the upcoming dance?” He winces when Deuce kicks him from under the table. “It’s kinda stupid, but if you wanted to go-”

“Trappola! Quiet or you’ll have extra work to do after class.”

Crewel seemed to be saving you a lot today.

-

Later, you notice Vil ahead of you, walking by himself through the halls. He drops something on the ground, but walks away before you can call out to him. Picking up his dropped handkerchief, you rush after him, finding yourself in yet another dim, empty classroom.

“Vil?” you call. He turns around, and you hold his lost item out to him. “You dropped this.”

His eyes light up and he smiles when he sees what you’ve brought. “Oh! Thank you so much, dear.” He approaches you, suddenly dropping a kiss on your cheek, making your face heat up. He winks. “Just a little reward for your endless kindness.”

“Uh, it was nothing, really.”

“Nonsense!” Vil leans against the wall, filling your view. “In fact, let me repay you. Do you have some time now?”

Before you can respond, someone flickers the lights on, the brightness now revealing the room was less empty than you assumed. The sound of a violin fills your ears as you spot Rook in the corner of the room, playing beautifully. Epel stands in front of a small table, set with two plates and a vase of roses in the middle. He blushes a little when you spot him, giving you a gentle wave. Both of them wear suits. Epel approaches Vil to remove his school overcoat to put on a more traditional suit jacket.

Still lost in confusion, you let Vil guide you to your seat at the table. He sits down across from you, taking your hands into his. Epel brings out a slice of chocolate cake, setting it between you, before going to sit near Rook.

“Ah, I hope you don’t mind sharing, dear.” He winks again. “You know, I really would like to repay you for your act of kindness.”

“Did you just- have this all set up? In case you dropped something…? It’s really nothing, it took me literally two seconds to return.”

“So humble, it’s one of your many fantastic qualities. I am serious about treating you, though. You know the upcoming dance?” You nod, not liking where this is going. “How about I accompany-”

Before he can finish, the door flies open and Leona struts in. He, seemingly, is not fazed by this set up in the middle of an empty classroom.

He ignores Vil and the others completely, turning to you. “Prefect, we never finished our conversation from earlier,” he grumbles.

“You’re right. Sorry, Vil, but it would be rude to keep him waiting. I better just-”

“Please, I have something important to ask you. Just one moment of you time is all I ask.” Vil places him arm on your shoulder.

“They already made up their mind, Schoenheit. Back off, they wanna come with me.” Leona grabs hold of your hand, trying to tug you out of Vil’s grasp.

Vil does not give in, taking hold of your other hand. “Putting words into their mouth, Kingscholar? They were about to choose me.”

Stuck between the two of them, locked in a glaring contest, you try to pull your arms from both of them.

“Merveilleux!” Rook stops playing his violin, approaching the group of you. “To have two beautiful men trying to make you swoon, c’est le paradis!Would you like me to become a contender for your heart as well?” Rook sweeps his arms around you gently, before Leona pushes him off.

“Fuck off, I don’t need another one of you pomefiore brats swarming around them.”

Rook turns back to you. “He’s quite possessive, are you into that type of man, I wonder? I can be that type too~”

“I’ve gotta go,” you say, taking this chance to run out of the class.

-

You’re asked to sit in on a meeting with the teachers and housewardens, which Vil and Leona decide to use as their last opportunity to win once most of the others have left. Only you, Leona, Vil, and Azul remain, still packing up your things.

“Prefect? I apologize to bother you again, but if I could, I’d still love to ask you-”

Vil is, once again, interrupted before he can finish.

“Prefect,” Leona says, touching your cheek. You turn to face him just in time for him to pull out a jewelry box from his pocket, popping it open in front of you. “I-”

“What the hell? Are you actually proposing to me?!”

“What are you on about?” It’s only then that Leona seems to realize your confusion. “A ring, Ruggie?? I said get something nice, not a ring!”

Ruggie strolls in from around the corner, shrugging. “I’ve never even seen jewelry this expensive before. How would I know what you wanted me to get? I’ll take it if they don’t want it.” He pauses, suddenly remembering something. “Also, did you still want me to bring in the flowers? There’s four hundred roses just sitting in the other room.”

You turn back to Leona incredulously. “Why did you send Ruggie to- Forget it, why have you guys been acting so strange?”

“Leona and Vil made a bet on who could get you to agree to go as their date to the semi-formal. It seems their small, fragile egos were quite bruised from their rejection by the ghost bride,” Azul interjects, finally looking up from his book at the corner of the table.

Vil stares at him. “You truly have no loyalty nor shame.”

“Says you,” you quip.

“Yes, it’s quite pitiful. I heard rumours and used my resources to discover the truth. I thought you deserved to know, prefect.” Azul stands from his chair, approaching where you’re sitting to place a hand on your shoulder. “Now, if you still wanted to attend the event with someone who wasn’t planning on manipulating you into it, I would be happy to offer my services.”

Your narrowed eyes prompts Azul’s swift apology.

“Ah, I see now was not the correct time. I shall make my exit.” He leaves the room along with Ruggie, leaving you three alone.

“What is wrong with both of you? You didn’t learn your lesson with Eliza? It’s messed up to play with a person’s feelings like this, I’m not your little prop.”

“Prefect-” Vil starts, cutting himself off at the look you give him.

You give them each one last glare before walking out the door, barely hiding your laughter.

-

“You’re quite the actor, my dear,” Malleus says, slipping your hand into his own as the two of you walk towards Ramshackle.

“I know,” you laugh, “Did you see their faces? I think that’s the first time in his life Leona’s ever looked guilty. His tail was definitely between his legs.”

“Yes, it was rather unbecoming of him,” Malleus chuckles, before stopping his stride. “Although, you could have simply let them know you already belong to another.”

“True, but it shouldn’t really matter. It’s not as though they’re actually interested. They clearly just think of me as some kind of prize to win in an ego competition. Plus, it’ll certainly make a scene when we walk in to the dance together, won’t it?”

Malleus sighs, pulling you into his arms to drop a kiss on your head, before continuing to walk you home. “You are far too naive, my love. Not to worry, you have me to protect you from those beasts.”

[takes1]

ah, hello kuroken anon again here!!! :> I LOVED LOVED LOOVEDDDD THE PART 2 HAHAGWGSH SOO EXCITED TO SEE HOW IT’LL END!!!! AND MASTERMIND KENMA??? YOU. GET. IT. YOUUU FUCKING GET ITTTT. IM SO CRAZY THATS LITERALLY HOW I THINK HE’D BE IN BED AJAKSIFIRKRJ. thats the team’s brain right there!!!! cant wait to reread this story over and over <3333

thank you again for sparing some time to write even when youre busy with your education, i’m also busy with my education related stuff so you posting your writing at this time is really helping me to keep me going 🫶 good luck to u!!! ^^

[final] kenma sharing you with kuroo

you're a gem and i will sorely miss hearing from you after this part is posted. fuuuuck you made me cry a lil bit 🤏not even kidding omg. i'm genuinely so glad the characterization got through 😫💕and that i could help you in any capacity loves.

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / porn with plot / threesome / angst, fluff, and smut / jealous?kuroo / secure!kenma / submissive(with conditions)!reader / praisewhore!reader / use of toys / m!rec oral / riding / kuroo working through his emotions / mastermind!kenma / poly!conversations / happy!cuck'd kenma / fluid pecking order / 3k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. part one here. part two.

"Good," A little drive-by peck to your temple and Kenma was off the bed, grabbing some water.

"I need a break."

Kuroo filled the space he left verbally and physically-- a starved scan of your body, trembling already, on top of him. His head swiveled from you to Kenma's cute butt. He couldn't keep his hand off of his own cock to save his life, so it didn't surprise you that he stroked himself and checked your boyfriend out at the same time. If you had one, you'd do the same.

"You lazy fuckin' bastard..."

They shared a laugh.

He let the chuckle die for a second, more of a yearning as he looked at you again, "You sure it's alright with you, man?"

You realized you couldn't stop your hands from shaking. You really wanted him.

You both looked at Kenma, who put his hands up, more annoyed that the question kept cropping up, "Promise. I'm fine, I just got- kinda close."

You were brimming with pride at that truthful statement, hips automatically rolled against Kuroo's cock. He could play the role well, but it wasn't natural. Neither was his pace or his intensity, so it made sense that he was forced to sacrifice his already shitty stamina.

Kenma liked slow, smother-y, whiny, missionary stuff that went on for a couple rounds and ended in you both passed out in your own slippery mess. This was all a little pornographic, performative, for a neutral observer.

"F-uck," He groaned, face tense at how well you took him.

He couldn't believe neither of you made him wear a condom. He never fucked raw, and never imagined he would have the chance to get with you. This was too perfect.

Kuroo was on the thicker side, and leaned hard to the left. Two features you weren't accustomed to, but instantly learned to love. He stretched your cunt out so easy- leaving you at a shallow gasp, as he wasted no time to show you how much he had been craving you over the past year.

That pretty, occupied, shock was exactly what he wanted to see.

He grinned, a possessive grip around your throat, "That's what you wanted, huh?"

His lip curled, twitched. He bottomed out and rolled his hips the way Kenma had, earlier.

"You wanted me?"

You squeaked at his premature intensity- nails digging into his shoulders. He squeezed you to prompt an answer.

A whimpery, "Yeah."

Kuroo was different when he let himself talk to you like this, like it was just you two. It felt like he was finally being honest.

It was apparent that he wanted you close, intimately so, and not posed up for Kenma. He was still sipping his water, watching, as if he was hanging out on the bench during a game.

Kuroo fucked you slower, nicer, after he hearing your pitiful sob of an answer.

His thumb rubbed slow, a nearly imperceivable circle in your hip, as he searched your eyes.

"Why didn't ya tell me?" Was so quiet. It made your heart squeeze.

He felt too good, pumping in and out of you so easy, filling you over and over again like it was nothing.

His voice was ever softer, as you were rewiring your brain to make room for a singular thought.

"You hear me, pretty girl?"

You softened at his endless list of nicknames for you- all so methodical and sweet, like he had always thought of you as his baby, his doll, his pretty girl.

"Mhm," Got muffled against his fervent kisses.

It would have to go unanswered. You realized at some point you didn't have a satisfying response for him; even if you did before, you couldn't do his questions any justice, now.

He was like Kenma when he got close. He grew huffy, and leagues worse at kissing. His little taunts were incomprehensible, but the nature of his mumbly, dirty words was enough to get you close and considering the possibility of a future arrangement here.

The idea had you pushing out of his weakened grip, looking towards Kenma. Adoration had filled his features even before he caught you looking at him, evidence that he had nothing to hide.

He came closer to kiss you.

Kuroo allowed you to you lean close to Kenma's ear, amused when you covered your whisper up with your palm, so he had no chance of hearing.

"Let me suck you off again," Was your request.

Kenma stepped back, face too hesitant for your liking. He shook his head, undecided, with a long and quiet hum.

"Please," Your hand fell from his shoulder as he stroked himself, just to see if he could last for it.

You had to beg a few more times, real sweet, real pretty, for him to decide that finishing first wasn't all so bad. It clearly wasn't an original part of his plan, but he couldn't tell you no; not with you all fucked out, waiting for more, on top of his best friend.

"Ohh my god," Kuroo groaned, forcing you still, as he pieced together why Kenma climbed back up, on his knees, at his side.

Your dirty little smile only broke to press a kiss to the tip of Kenma's cock.

"Oh my g-od..." He repeated himself, voice breaking this time.

It was easier from this position, than the one you had been in earlier- the whole reason any of this was playing out now.

The way your tongue stretched out, the hollow in your cheeks, how fucking easy you made it look, and most of all, your pretty little stare up at him was all too perfect. Kuroo didn't blush often, but this was a true surprise, and a moment worthy of the red on his face, now.

He wasn't going to last long, from the start, but this was overload. You had gotten comfortable with him long before he was ever in the picture- knowing exactly how Kenma liked it, what got him closest, the fastest. He didn't make the connection before now, but that's what Kenma had shown earlier, too.

Kenma was huffy, a bit higher in tone, "She got me off the game- ah-h, like-- this,"

One hand was still, twitchy, at his side- one kept your hair back, but didn't control you. His abs flexed, uneven.

"Fuckin' knew it," Kuroo gave a tired, very distracted chuckle.

His shoulders would stoop hard to the side with a big, struggled sigh when you'd take him deeper. You brought out a more submissive side of Kenma. It was a welcome sight.

Kuroo had to let you go to rub the ache from his temples. In the absence of his hands, you rolled your hips. You didn't want to just be a cock warmer-- you wanted him to fuck you. So far, Kenma had been rougher, and that didn't meet your expectations at all.

He seethed, and kept you still again with a shuddery sound, "Don't- don't move."

You came back up, popping Kenma out of your mouth, stroking him quickly as you gave Kuroo a mean stare.

"Relaaax, babygirl, I just need a second--,"

You frowned. So they both couldn't last? You took your frustration out on Kenma- twitching, gasping, at your lubed palm making an embarrassingly quick work of his endurance. He was really cute when he was about to cum.

"Babe- fuck- I'm-- I-h- Ah!," He stuttered, his panting growing quicker, the tension across his body now locked.

He let you to decide what you wanted. You could feel him tense as you kept your tongue laid flat, swirled in little circles on the underside of the tip, as you pumped the rest of his length.

"Mm-h, fuc-k--"

"Aah, ah-hh-!"

Kuroo had to scratch little divots into his palm to keep himself sobered enough. He watched along in awe as you swallowed, hardly any labor on your brow. You looked at him the whole time, this impossible innocence in your steady gaze.

Kenma was a work of art, his mouth parted, lips wet with drool, his brow tense at how you kept sucking at his sensitive tip. He adored you. There was no hope for Kuroo to replace that, going either way.

"Oka-y, okay," Kenma pulled you off with a shuddery sigh.

He muttered, "I love you s'much," against your scalp as you licked your fingers clean. After stealing a kiss, he sat back on his heels, a hand rested on Kuroo's shoulder.

There was a sorry lack of quips from him. He wasn't being a smartass anymore, or even funny. He was acting a little dull, like Kenma after a couple rounds. You tilted your head down at him, analyzing what the hell happened.

He returned it, his intense, deep eyes cutting right through you.

You softened your expression. Maybe he was still in there.

"He won't move," You pouted to Kenma, as if he could possibly do something about it.

He covered his snicker with his hand- Kuroo rolled his eyes but got cut short when you tried to move your hips up and back down. His nails dug so hard into you that you gave a small whimper- trying to pry his hands away, unsuccessfully.

"If she doesn't stop doing that, I'm gonna fuckin' cum," In a similar fashion to you, he looked at Kenma, like he could fix it, "I'm so serious, bro- it's not even funny."

Kenma gave a loaded sigh. He did look like he was thinking for a solution.

Kuroo had your face in his big hand, warning you, to be still. You liked the sound of him cumming inside you, and how he was barely holding himself together, so you only met his harshness with a small, maniacal smile.

After rifling through the sheets, Kenma found your favorite vibrator and wiggled it with pride in front of Kuroo. He didn't disappoint; he truly had a solution for everything.

"Dunno how I forgot about this," He muttered, clicking through the settings to the only one you actually used.

As he took the time to do this, you clocked that he was still half-hard, even after two orgasms, and felt some butterflies in your tummy. He glanced your bodies over with a little smirk.

He kissed right behind your ear, "Let's try leveling the playing field, yeah?"

It was easy to act all big and bad when they were both closer than you. Once they had you on your back, completely honed in on just your body, your short-lived confidence was shaken.

In a similar, reverse fashion, Kuroo was back to his original state: an irritating tease.

He was eager to listen to and watch Kenma as he cuddled up to your side.

"We usually don't go for this long-," He admitted, making him smirk.

He took one leg hostage to spread you before pressing your vibrator up to your clit.

"A-hh-ah-!" You twitched, under all the sudden pleasure.

"But you're getting spoiled today, huh?" Your partner chuckled, a little kiss to your temple.

This may have been one of the few times Kuroo didn't keep his cock in his hand. The whole point was to get him further away from a climax, after all.

He used that effort to take your opposite side, in an almost identical orientation as Kenma. Your other leg was relieved of its fatigue once Kuroo wouldn't let it go.

If he focused too hard at the delicious tension in your face, or the way Kenma had to keep you forcefully still, he had to look away for twice as long with a big, calming sigh.

"She is such a pretty thing," He muttered, during one of these moments.

"Sooo pretty," Kenma agreed. He watched Kuroo's affliction, how it seemed more than just physical.

Another little peck to your sweaty temple, as you squirmed and flexed, panting, under their weight and pulling, "You should tell Kuro how much you want him."

They couldn't let you rest. It was psychological torture paired with the most a dizzying turn of events you hadn't prepared for.

It was, all things considered, a simple task.

A fluttery sigh- then a short, pitiful whine at how Kenma was making it hard again-

"I think- ah! I-i... I've 'ad a-... crush- on you-- Mh!"

Your pushing against his forearm became compromised as Kuroo laced his fingers through yours, pulling your hand to his lips. He listened closely.

That little tension around his eyes seemed to melt, his smirk becoming more of a smile. It was partially amusement at how difficult it was for you to speak, but it was also something he needed to hear.

"You're- h-ah-- soo hot," You seethed, unfocused eyes finally landing on his face, how he pressed that kiss real slow into the back of your hand, eyes unfaltering, "'And-- mmm, s-ooo sweet."

His true nature, with his guard down, didn't even show much like this. When he let loose, you could see that he was not much of a scheming, cunning, captain naturally. He was a big cutiepie that filled the gaps of his loneliness with too many distractions. That left him feeling guilty. Which, in turn, gave him more reason to compensate with the same sinful crutches.

It was easy to feel empathic for him as he gave you those big puppy dog eyes, but it was the very affinity for these crutches that got him all fired up at your words.

"Yeahh-," He gave another, rougher kiss to your hand, and sighed, "You're gettin' dicked down for that one."

Kenma chuckled at his silly, sudden change in attitude. You smiled, relieved, to see that you didn't have to move, that Kuroo would actually go for missionary, because this edge was heaven.

When he was settled between your legs, filling you up again to the base of his cock- he leaned forward and swerved to hold Kenma's face in one of his hands.

"I see what you're doin'."

Surprise was all over his delicate features.

"You're not subtle," He spat, using a rough kiss as the end of it.

They shared a long, messy kiss that spurred Kuroo to start fucking you- your gasps, whines, only encouraged him, only inspired their curiosity.

Maybe Kuroo did understand that Kenma had a higher plan; one that involved persuading you to come clean about your secret feelings, and use that as a weapon to inspire action in Kuroo. What remained ambiguous was why.

As distracted as Kenma was, he still didn't let off of your poor, overstimulated clit. They were both so rough in their respective tasks, and every time you tried to move one of them, your hands would be intercepted.

You had to just lay there and take it.

The 'why' kind of- fell away, when he parted from Kenma's soft lips, looking down at your clingy, blacked-out expression. Needy. He didn't get that look often- it made his cock swell, and turned his thrusts harder, as he felt you tighten.

"Fuck-! Ughh-" He had to swallow the build-up of spit in his mouth, push his sweat-soaked hair back, "You gonna cum around my cock?"

You responded so well to the pain on his face, the wanton desire behind the way he dug into your hips and watched Kenma lean over you for more kisses.

"Right in front of your- Mmh, pretty- little- boyfriend?"

In your pseudo-daze, riding that high, long-awaited build-up, you could feel Kenma sigh against your mouth at the attention.

"Fuck- fuck, fuck--!" You gasped- your pussy spasmed around his perfect cock.

Kuroo bit the inside of his already chewed up cheek to keep from cumming inside of you.

He felt your nails dig hard into his hand on your hip, your other one adding another trophy to Kenma's scarred shoulders. It was confirmation that Kenma had been lying to the team in the locker room on dozens of occasions, talking nonsense about a cat somehow scratching him up.

"Mmh-h-Ah-!"

It was nearly impossible to listen to you, as he fucked you hard through it all. Kenma recognized that expression well, a little proud smirk at his friend's restraint, and at how good your pussy was to keep him so obedient.

You were coming down, stupid and breathless, when he rushed to pull out of you.

"F-uck, a-ah-Haah, shitshitshit," He whined.

He was shaking, panting, and unsure if he had pulled out in time.

The nasty, addictive feeling of hot, sticky cum painted all between your folds, in the sheets, over your vibrator, tummy, inner thighs, and Kenma's hand.

His face was twitchy, but slowly spread to a panic that wasn't shared between you and Kenma.

Kenma considered torturing him longer, but decided against it.

"Birth control," He clarified, then repeated at Kuroo's empty-headed expression, "She's on birth control."

Kuroo gave a big, loud groan, slouching back to sit on his ankles: "Thank God- Ohhh-! Thank God, Holy shit...fuck."

This relationship had too many cum-hungry habits to not take every precaution. Aside from condoms.

His exhausted relief left him cracking his neck, rubbing his warm face at the sight of how covered you had gotten. He nearly missed Kenma licking the back of his own wrist.

You still looked as cute as ever, all sleepy and drenched. He couldn't help but shimmy lower, just to press a mean kiss to your slicked-up and tired clit.

"Ah-!" You squealed, thighs squeezed around his head.

Thankfully, he didn't intend to stay. He wiped the excess cum off of his cheek, finding it a little too salty for his taste, and chuckled at your quivering form.

Kenma was already taking on the responsibility of cleaning up. It left Kuroo to mess with you a bit longer and nestle up to your side again.

Kenma was on a mission for a warm rag for your slick, starting-to-be-sticky body and pulled on some clothes. He finished his water and excused himself to go grab more, for the two of you.

He watched him leave. It was quiet, except for your still-shaky breathing.

"You okay, babydoll?" Kuroo used his big hand to guide your face towards him, sharing in a few long, soft kisses.

You still kissed him with the same passion as earlier, even though Kenma wasn't around.

A weak, "Mhm."

"Was I too rough with you?"

You smiled, the question somehow able to make you blush, "N-o, you were- you were great."

Kuroo grinned, but it was a little empty. He wasn't optimistic about the reality of the aftermath. One fling, a spur-of-the-moment threesome, was fun, exciting, new. What about after that? After the newness wore off?

The last kiss you shared was a bit harder, rushed, for a reason you couldn't pick apart. He kept talking to you as he moved off of the bed and started getting dressed again.

"Y'know- I thought you and Kemma fucked like old people."

You chuckled, "Oh, really?"

"Yeah- but... you taught me a couple things."

Kuroo knew he would never be satisfied if he was seen as the outsider- but there was no room for him in your dynamic, from what he had seen so far.

He had no idea where he phone was, so he began searching for it, and it took so long that Kenma was already coming back in.

"Where are you going?" Kenma clocked him instantly.

You opened your eyes, confused- and now Kuroo had both of you looking at him like a fox in your henhouse.

"Well- I," He chuckled, again, empty, and you sensed it now, "I just- thought this was-..."

Kuroo swallowed, way more emotionally invested than he wanted to be. Usually, he could brush off that 'Why are you leaving?' look, as a sort of trophy sometimes, in recognition that he fucked somebody well. Here, he felt like a genuine asshole.

Kenma had a rag balled up in his hand, dripping onto the floor like a weapon. He set two bottles down on the bedside table without looking away from him.

"I don't know how you managed to twist it all up in your head, Kuro-," He walked closer, shoulders squared, until he was a little too close. Kuroo mimicked him, naturally.

You covered your mouth, a little too trembly, naked, and uninformed to contribute.

He was incredibly frustrated, as he continued, "-But I know you're not heartless. If you walk out--,"

"What?" Kuroo laughed, egging him on.

"I'm gonna beat your ass."

Kuroo laughed harder, brow furrowed, eyes searching down at him.

Disbelief laced his voice, "Oh, yeah?"

Kenma pushed him. It wasn't hard, but it made him take a step back. Kuroo blinked, and all the amusement had vanished, leaving only irritation in its wake.

It was unironically quite a scary display- you had already taken the initiative to sit up and cover yourself with a blanket. You were swimming in your own guilt. If you had said no, or just never liked him in the first place, it wouldn't have gotten to this point.

Kenma looked incredibly small with Kuroo's heavy hands on his shoulders.

"Good thing-," His hand slid down to Kenma's, interlacing their fingers, with a quick kiss to the top of the head, "I'm not leaving."

You shared big sigh of relief with Kenma.

"Fuck you," He muttered, giving into a grumpy kiss.

Kuroo's brow raised, already cheerful, and satisfied that he was wanted, especially enough to warrant that kind of reaction from Kenma. It was successful at settling any present doubts that this was just surface-level lust at play.

"Mm- maybe next time, yeah?"

He caught sight of you, all worried and bundled up in your blanket, "Aaww, sweetie-!"

"You poor thing-," He quickly returned to hug you, a thousand apologetic kisses to your head, "I would never hurt Kemma."

The only problem left to address was your stickiness, now also all over that one throw blanket. They both shared in the arduous task of cleaning up. The two were back to goofing around, showering you in compliments, apologies, and kisses for getting so stupid and worked up while you were caught in the middle.

Kenma had put his foot in the figurative door for something pretty special between the three of you. It would be a process, navigating this new thing together. If it meant more of this, though, it was worth a shot.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

taglist - thanks for your patience and the support!!

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my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I HATE THE NEW HERO

PT 1 - What teacher assigns a group project for a poster?!

Pt 1 (You're here) - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10

Classes were always boring for you, don't get you wrong - you love the subjects, you just hate how it's being taught.

To sum it up, here is your lessons for today, Friday.

Literature, Methods Math, Biology, Ancient History, Engineering and finally Chemistry.

It's a lot and frankly you're regretting choosing half of those subjects. Even more so because of a certain billionaire playboy's ward. Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.

You're pretty sure he's a massive fanboy of Aranea, the new spider-themed hero of Gotham who you detest with your very being.

The costume is ugly, they're too optimistic - it's Gotham, who on Earth is happy in Gotham? Most of all however, they're a two-faced bitch. You should know, after all you are them.

It's not that you hate yourself and your nightlife, just that you need to look unconnected to them at all costs. There can't be any correlation between you and your persona. You use a voice modulator while on patrol and missions, you wear a wig while in your costume and any defining features are covered by either the costume or makeup.

So, whenever Aranea is brought up you take the chance to make fun of it. The comments aren't anything horrible, mean sure.

"Ew, they're more of a roach than a spider.."

"They're actually ugly enough to be the next Joker"

"I hope they humiliate themself and everyone sees how gross they really are."

But not horrible.

Despite this Timothy seems to have thought you were the devil himself in the form of a teenager. Glares were thrown at you, false reports were made to the principal's office, public shaming on Chitter and more.

You won't lie and say it gets to you sometimes but at the same time he's being a manchild. You can't expect everyone to like who you like.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by a paper being slammed onto the desk. Your head snaps up and you glare at the person.

Timothy may as well be the devil with the way he's staring at you now, a sneer paints his pale features. His nose held high enough that you swore he was about to snort on you.

You grit your teeth and look down at the paper he slammed on your desk. You're actually going to scream and cry right now.

Scratch that, you're actually going to jump out of the window and hope to perish.

You hate Chemistry. You hate this school. You hate Gotham. You hate Timothy Jackson Drake.

You pray he'll think you're incompetent and not bother with actually working together for this group project.

A group project on Titration! Who even does a group project outside of school for that?

You look around, hoping there will be others in the group but because your luck is so thin it might snap everyone else already were in groups of 3s. Meaning Timothy and you would just be a duo.

Instead of doing what you wished you instead sighed and grabbed your pencil, probing at Timothy's hand until it stopped holding the paper against the desk.

"A poster on bases and acids in titration? Why does this need to be a two-person job?!" You huff out. Timothy's features turn more hate filled, kinda petty to hate someone for different tastes Timothy...

"Because lazy people like you won't do the work otherwise!"

"I'm not lazy! Fine, fuck you! I'll do it myself!"

"No way! I need the marks - plus you'll do it wrong!"

you take a deep breath, trying desperately to not snap your pencil in half.

"... Fine. We'll do it at my place then once school lets out. No way am I going to your place where I'm sure you'll set your family on me." You respond calmly, still glaring up at him.

After a moment Timothy nods.

Your shoulders slump in relief.

"I'll meet you at the front gate then."

"Fine. But if you're late I'm doing the project on my own." With that Timothy walks away. You feel a migraine coming on - seriously, what is wrong with him? There wasn't even a proper time set!

Some people think that Damian kid is the rudest - those people clearly haven't been on the bad, petty side of Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.

[ba9go]

50 rounds of uppercuts (pt. 2)

gymbro!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

part 1 💥 part 3 (coming soon)

you hate to say it, but bakugou was right.

your eyes went wide as saucers. you did one rep, then two, and you made it to eight before you completed your set.

"holy shit," you breathed, slightly winded. you slowly lower your butt down to the ground. "i didn't know i could do that."

bakugou shrugs. "you're welcome."

"how did you know?" you turn to look up at bakugou with a frown.

"i see you here like, thrice a week," bakugou scowls. "you've just been holding yourself back."

and suddenly, you realise that you're talking to japan's number 2 pro-hero, dynamight. not only that, but he's a regular at your neighbourhood gym. surely, the number 2 pro-hero has better things to pay attention to aside from your half-assed hip thrusts?

nevermind that, this was THE dynamight standing next to you right now. should you ask him for an autograph? probably not, he's kinda prickly, right? or maybe that's just his branding? big, scary, intimidating dynamight— who's giving you gym advice like your average gym bro?

"what the fuck," bakugou sneers at you, crossing his arms in front of his chest. your eyes jump immediately to the way his biceps bulge and you blush like a fangirl. fuck it, maybe you will ask him for an autograph. you're sold. dynamight stan for-fucking-life.

"you got a problem? say it to my fuckin' face, pink cheeks," he practically hisses at you, and holy fuck, you're so sold. the dynamight branding. it fucking sells. this guy's brand image is genius. this is so good. literally the fucking best—

"would ya stop FUCKIN' ogling me like a piece of meat and fuckin' say somethin' like a normal person?! what are ya, a sociopath? ya got a fuckin' problem—"

bakugou continues berating you as you shift yourself out from under the barbell resting over your lap. he's so loud (as advertised) and angry (also as advertised) and you are so going to ask him for his—

"—just fuckin' ask if ya want my number or somethin', don't be so fuckin' weird about it for fuck's sake!"

autograph???????

'FUCK his autograph,' you think to yourself as you fumble for your phone in the pocket of your gym shorts. you open your contacts list but you don't even get to hand it to him before he snatches your phone from you and slams his number into your keypad.

"fuckin' weirdo," bakugou grumbles as he shoves your phone back into your hands, before turning around abruptly.

as bakugou walks away, you're left standing in the middle of the gym with stars in your eyes. and yes, you are still staring at his amazing figure. god, it's fucking illegal, the way his shoulders are so fucking broad and his waist is so fucking tiny.

he doesn't turn around to face you as he raises a hand to wave lazily. "see ya around, ya fuckin' dork."

his harsh words should not be making you this happy, but holy fuck, dynamight's branding was so fucking on-point.

it's only after he walks out of the gym that you finally tear your gaze from his back and look down at your phone.

you entered the gym feeling lazy and unmotivated. you left the gym a fucking dynamight stan.

god, you loved being a gym girl.

sorry for the inactivity. i had a stressful fucking week of uni and going to the gym was LITERALLY the HIGHLIGHT OF MY WEEK. super motivated to finish this fic now. this fic is a tribute to gym and all the gym girls and gym bros out there. SHOUT OUT TO MY FELLOW GYMRATS

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @valeriyaaak @v3n7s @deimosjay @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy @thesimpybitch @eempxth @hanta-seros-wifey @gold24fish

[cherry-pop-elf]

Warming Up The New Client

Fred Weasley x Reader

Sum: Was another one of those little bets you and Fred did. You lost, but you are kinda the biggest winner between the two of you. Especially when one of the Weasley’s business partners come in to discuss important things. Let’s see if he can keep his head straight

Warnings: 18+, cock warming, blow jobs, semi public, kinda cracky because not everything needs to be a porno you gotta laugh, accidental choking, worried boyfriend because whoops this has become a sitcom, after care. Lowkey tho any fic you’ll read from me will have it, unless stated otherwise. HEALTHY AND REALISTIC SEX

“MR WEATHERBIRD! What are you doing here?!” Fred would panic, as he would force his chair to push into the desk. Was followed by a thump, as your body hit the back of the desk. Hardly any space for you, and his legs, in the confined space.

Why were you under his desk, and between his legs? Well you lost a bet. Was a harmless one. Just those lazy Mondays, at the shop, where you both needed something to help stimulate the day. A bet where it didn’t matter who won or loss, because there weren’t really any losers when the fun is the game.

Your prize for losing was to give the winner a blow job. Nothing too crazy. That is until unaware company arrived. That being a man that the Weasley twins were meant to do business with. Seems like George must have missed the man. Well, he arrived via fire place. George wouldn’t have seen him arrive, unless in the office with you two.

“Is now a bad time, Mr. Weasley? I figured Mondays would work best for you. Tis a joke shop, after all. The slowest day of the week, as your largest income bracket is through the school children. A Monday morning felt the most reliable to arrive.” Damn his logic, that was what Fred thought. He had a point.

“No no! It’s fine, you are right. Just surprise, that’s all. Take a seat. Let’s talk!” He would grin his award winning smile, as you remained stuck in your hiding place. Left with a choice to make. Stop what you are doing, or see how far you could push the button. Well, you married a Weasley. What’s a little bit of risk?

“Wonderful. We have much to discuss.” Boy was this going to be boring. You knew it, Fred knew it, but hey. You are certainly going to make it more enjoyable. Or worse. Either way, it’s gonna be fun.

As the older gentlemen began his garble, you were busy with your own garbling. Letting his cock press into your cheek, as you tried to find a way to move your head. You didn’t want to just keep thumping your head on the wood. That’s not fun at all.

You were shifting your head all over the place, as you tried to get comfortable. Made for your boyfriend to struggle with paying attention to the boring work jargon his business partner was making. Was certainly difficult to make sure he looked like he was listening, and not currently getting sucked off. Certainly difficult indeed, when those freckled cheeks of his were rosey.

“You seem a bit warm, Mr. Weasley. Are you feeling well?” The older gentlemen would ask Fred. Ever the charismatic man he was, he was oh so quick to think on the fly. Lie out of every situation. Such a charming gift to have.

“Fever fudge. You know how my brother and I are. We always self test our products. That way if anyone gets hurt, it’s us. We only ever field test with mostly our siblings. We know how they would react to what we make, but not to strangers. No. We don’t act like it, but we try and keep things safe.” That seemed to win over Mr. Weatherbird. Charmed the man as much as he could charm a gaggle of girls in a quidditch stand.

The devil on your shoulder was going to be the death of you, and him, with what it was whispering to you. Wanting to try and make his facade crack somehow. Just a little bit. Enough to make him sweat under the pressure. Just a little bit. You don’t want to actually put him at risk of anything, but gambling is gambling. Win big, or die trying.

As you finally managed to force Fred’s chair back, you could properly move your head. Made him need to sit awkwardly, to not make it appear that he was pushed back. Didn’t want the man to get suspicious. Seems he wasn’t, as he was busy with papers. Gave Fred time to look down, and see your devious face. Stuffed with his cock. Was so arrousing, you could feel his cock twitch on your tongue. With fresh flavor for you to enjoy.

He would shoot you a glare, only for the man to look back up. Forced him to meet the clients eyes, as to try and act as chill as possible. Never did he think he would want to do paper work right now. Anything to not just cum down your throat. George was the moaner, not him. But you were seeing if they were identical in a few other ways.

That was until Mr. Weatherbird started to lean over the desk. Just trying to be polite, and show him something on the papers. Had Fred quickly slam himself back under the desk. Forced you to take his cock all the way down your throat, and gag on it. Had you cross eyed, and trying so damn hard to not gurgle on it. Guess you weren’t quite enough.

“What was that noise-?” “What noise?” “Sounded like someone was choking….” Fred, ever quick, was able to come up with the perfect lie. A lie melted in truth, to keep the seal on the little secret at hand closed.

“We have a product here called puking pasties. A pastry used to help kids throw up. For one reason or another. Not to mention we have many things that stink so bad you wish to obliviate yourself from the memory. Just kids being kids. George has it under control.” He would brush off the worry, as you tried to find your ability to breathe again.

Was rather difficult, as you were now trapped entirely under the desk this time. How your head was pressed against the desk, and held no way to move your head. Just gagging around his cock, with drool soaking all over your clothes.

The more you tried to steady yourself, the more his cock twitched in your mouth. Feeling your tongue trying to adjust itself. How your throat kept clenching and your lips desperate to move.

Before you could make any other noises, he was quick to wave his wand. Had his gramophone kick to life, and play that loud swing music those twins loved. Nothing like some big band to liven up the scene. Along with hide more of your gagging, and sputtering, in the hopes to finish this meeting.

“That’s better. Now, as we were saying-“ The droning was starting to get to him. All his mind could think about you was choking on his cock. Had him aroused, but also very worried he was hurting you. It’s not hot if it’s not consented on. Was an accident, yes, but he loves you and wants you safe. He had to figure out how to get you out of there, before things get worse.

“Say uh. Mr. Weatherbird, um-“ Wow was it getting harder to talk. Wasn’t helping that you were still scrambling. Your hands reaching into his lap, to try and push him back some. When trying to reach the front of his chair, you got a full grab of your favorite stress toy instead. Had his eyes go cross, for a moment, as he had to bite his lip. Trying so hard, but he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Oh, I know it’s alot. You are so new to this world of business. I respect it. You two are stars, I can see it. I’ll do my best to help guide you both. You two are already doing so wonderful. Truly business savvy. Your parents must be so proud. Here, I’ll leave these papers for you and your twin to discuss over. Just send an Owl if you have any questions.” He gave a tip of his hat to Fred, as Fred himself did his best to give a flustered nod.

Mr. Weatherbird would give a wave goodbye, and vanished through the fireplace. As soon as he did, Fred pushed himself back. Made for a rather pornographic sight, and sound, as he popped his cock out of your mouth.

You were just covered in your own drool. Face more flustered than his own, with your lips swollen from being stretched for so long. How you were panting hard from the stress of the scene. It was all too much. You were just so perfect in his view. He just had to add to it.

He barely had time to close your eyes, as he leaned back. His cock just spilling his cum all across your face. Across your drool stained chest. You were just covered in so much. You were surprised he even had so much in him. Guess this was some life or death edging, so to speak.

With your breath caught, it was his turn to pant. Just leaning back in his office chair. His body slack, as he was seeing stars. That release was so needed, and so intense. He swore he pulled his back out from it.

“That could have gone better…Or worse. Depends on if we look at this from a positive view or not.” You would joke, as he gave a dry laugh. Happy to know you were ok. You knew he was worried, you could just tell. There was something sweet about it. That even with such heat of the moment he was looking out for you.

You would let him collect himself, as a cleaning charm solved all your problems. You also were polite to help out his dick away for him. After care goes both ways, after all. When he would come back to reality he would take care of you. You knew that. Until then, you’ll make sure he is cared for to.

Once he had his time to no longer sweat himself a new pool, he would pull you into his lap. Just cuddling you. A means of apology, without saying it. You knew he was trying to not have you humiliated. It wasn’t intentional in any way. The way you would play with his hair conveyed it. Both of you using your own silent little love language.

“So….Whens your next meeting?” The fact you asked that made his head spin. You wanted to do that again? That risk? The choking? The fear? The adrenaline? The insanity of it all?

“…….Thursday, after lunch….” He’s a Weasley. They were all adrenaline junkies. That’s just one of the many things that made you love him. Love him, kiss him, and bump your noses together. His adorable bird nose, with yours.

“You are such a minx, and I LOVE it.”

[kaira-diaries]

Intruders:

warning: violence // emotional distress // non-con touching // cannon type violence

pairing: fem!reader x in-ho

wc: 16.7k

summary: What if there were two intruders? Jun-ho and in-ho’s lover...

a/n: oof what if the intruder was also in-ho’s girlie..likeeee the heartache...I DON'T WANNA TALK ABOUT THE LENGTH. Also this is such a dramatic piece but I’m kinda here for it ??

-> Masterlist <-

You had been with the police department since the day you graduated from college, bright-eyed and full of ideals.

But if you were being honest, the job was never what your partner made it out to be. Jun-ho had painted it as something noble, something that gave you purpose—a career where you could make a real difference. But for you, the police force felt like a necessary evil, like a wound that would never entirely heal. Some days, you believed in the badge, but most days, you saw it for what it was—corruption hidden beneath polished shoes and pressed uniforms.

The moment that sealed your fate—the final, irreversible crack in the foundation—was when In-ho was stripped of his title, dismissed like he was nothing more than a piece of discarded evidence. And the cruelest part? It was your fault.

Three years ago, your body had betrayed you, liver failure creeping in like a slow, merciless tide. The sickness took everything—your energy, your independence, your hope. But In-ho, stubborn as ever, refused to let you go. He did what any desperate man would do when faced with losing the only thing he couldn't bear to live without. He pulled strings, made deals, and buried himself in debt.

Loans turned into bribes, and bribes turned into something much darker.

And for what?

By the time a donor was found—just weeks later—In-ho was gone. Not missing, not dead, just... vanished. No calls. No letters. No trace of the man who had burned his life to the ground for you. You could only imagine the weight of his shame, the crushing defeat of knowing he had sacrificed everything for someone who no longer needed saving.

But in the end, he had saved you.

He just wasn’t around to see it.  

You told yourself it was the pain of losing his career—the one thing he had bled for, suffered for, given everything to. It was all he had ever known, and you had taken it from him.

But deep down, you knew it was more than that. He lost faith. Not just in the system, not just in the job that had defined him, but in everything. In saving you. In living the life he had so carefully planned. Maybe, in the end, it wasn’t even about his career. Maybe it was about you.

And maybe—just maybe—he hadn’t wanted to be around to watch you die.

Only, you didn’t.

You were here.

You were breathing.

The cruel irony of it gnawed at you, an ache that settled deep in your bones. Did he know? Had he ever found out that all his sacrifices hadn’t been in vain? Or did he disappear believing it had all been for nothing? Did he hate you for it? For taking everything from him and still being here? For living the life he destroyed himself to give you?

Jun-ho tells you otherwise. He insists his brother could never blame you, never resent you. But Jun-ho doesn’t carry this weight, this unbearable, suffocating guilt that clings to you like a second skin. He doesn’t lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling from an empty, frozen bed, wondering if somewhere out there, In-ho is doing the same—only his resentment keeps him warm.

You want to believe Jun-ho. God, you do.

But that doesn’t stop the pain from sinking into your chest, heavy and unrelenting, as though his absence is carved into the very fabric of your existence.

You traced lazy patterns through the mound of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables on your plate, the food growing colder with each passing second. Hunger hadn't found you tonight—just as it hadn’t last night or the night before. Beside you, Jun-ho ate with his usual fervor, scooping generous spoonfuls into his mouth without a second thought. Each bite was mechanical as if dinner were nothing more than a task to complete.

Across from you, his mother sat rigid, her eyes locked on the untouched chicken before her. Her fingers curled slightly around the edge of her plate, but she made no move to eat. Beside her, the empty chair loomed—In-ho’s chair. Though he hadn't sat there in years, his place at the table was still set each night with unwavering devotion. A clean plate. Perfectly arranged silverware. A glass of water filled just enough. She still clung to the hope that one evening, he would drift through the doorway, drawn by the scent of home-cooked food, his nose in the air, his expression a front of quiet satisfaction. But the chair remained empty, a stark reminder of absence woven into your nightly ritual.

"Y/n," his mother called softly, her voice threading through the heavy silence, pulling you from the fog of your thoughts.

You looked to your left across the table, meeting her gaze—warm yet heavy with sorrow. Her eyes, glassy with grief, searched yours as if trying to find the right words, the ones that might bring you even the smallest comfort. Slowly, she reached across the table, her fingers brushing against the back of your hand, a quiet plea for you to let her in.

Your breath hitched. You bit your lip, gaze darting past her, past the dining room, past the life that still moved forward while you remained frozen in time. The tears welled before you could stop them, blurring the dim light, making the world swim. You shook your head.

You didn’t want to talk.

Didn’t want to hear reassurances that felt hollow. Didn’t want to pretend you were okay when every inch of you was unraveling. Even now. After all this time.

Without another word, you pushed back your chair, the legs scraping against the hardwood floor in a sound that made Jun-ho glance up mid-bite. But you didn’t stop. You turned away, footsteps heavy as you left them to their meal, the scent of untouched food lingering in the air.

The moment your bedroom door shut behind you, you locked it—sealing yourself away from the world, from their pity, from the unbearable ache of his absence.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

You sat at your desk, eyes skimming over the words on your screen, though you already knew what they said. The article had been plastered across every major news outlet in the city, but this one—this one came from the most ruthless, the kind that spared no mercy when it came to public disgrace.

And they got every detail right.

Policeman fired for bribery.

Officer dismissed for fraudulent behaviors.

Police Officer Hwang In-ho canned for illegal bribery, lining his pockets.

Criminal.

Criminal.

The words seeped into one another, each one twisting like a knife in your gut. They made him sound like a violent convict, like some immoral officer who had lined his pockets instead of a man who had destroyed himself for someone he loved. For you.

Your stomach churned, a wave of nausea rolling through you. You couldn’t take it—not the truth of it, not the shame clawing at your ribs. With a harsh breath, you slammed your laptop shut, the sound echoing through the quiet room.

A knock at the door rang a moment later.

You blinked, your mind still tangled in the venom of that article, but you forced yourself up, dragging your feet toward the door. When you opened it, Jun-ho stood there, leaned against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was exhausted, dark circles etched beneath his weary eyes.

"Can I come in?" he asked, voice quieter than usual.

You hesitated for only a moment before stepping aside, opening the door wider. He slipped past you, the familiar scent of his cologne filling the air as you shut the door behind him.

You turned to face him as he sat on the edge of the bed, his posture weighed down by something you couldn’t quite name—fatigue, frustration, or maybe the same grief that sat heavy in your own chest. He patted the space beside him, a silent invitation.

You paused before sitting down, folding your hands in your lap, your fingers twisting together as if you could wring the blame from your skin.

Jun-ho cleared his throat, his voice low, careful. "You need to stop blaming yourself, y/n," he murmured.

You scoffed a hollow sound that barely left your throat. A bitter breath pushed past your lips as you shook your head. "I wish it were that simple, Jun-ho," you whispered. "But I can't."

The room fell into stillness.

Then, Jun-ho turned to you, his jaw tight, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes—not at you, but at the weight you refused to let go of. "It is not your fault you got sick," he said, voice firmer now, edged with something dangerously close to anger. "It is not your fault In-ho took bribes."

You swallowed hard, but he wasn’t done.

"He made that choice himself," Jun-ho continued, his gaze piercing, unwavering. "No one forced his hand. Not you. Not anyone. None of this is your fault, y/n."

But the truth—no matter how desperately he wanted you to believe it—didn’t loosen the vice around your heart. If anything, it only made it squeeze tighter.

Tears spilled silently down your cheeks, hot against your skin, as Jun-ho’s words settled over you like a heavy weight. He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck before softening his tone.

"Besides," he murmured, "I need your skill set."

You blinked through your tears, brows pulling together in confusion. A hollow laugh escaped you as you lifted a dismissive hand. "Jun-ho, I—"

He caught your wrist gently. "Just… listen," he said, his voice low, almost pleading. "A minute is all I’m asking."

You stilled, caught off guard by the urgency in his voice. The weight in his gaze was enough to pull you from your grief, just for a moment. With a slow inhale, you nodded.

His fingers loosened as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, worn card. "I went to his apartment today," he said. "The landlord said he hasn’t been by in a long time." He hesitated before holding out the card. "But I found this."

You took it carefully, fingers brushing against the textured surface. Three shapes were printed on the front—simple, yet unsettling in their starkness. Your stomach tautened as you flipped it over. An address. A date. A time.

Your pulse quickened. "Odd," you muttered, tracing the ink with your thumb again before looking back up at Jun-ho.

His expression had shifted. That familiar sharpness had returned—the one you had seen countless times before, when the two of you were knee-deep in a case, piecing together a puzzle no one else could solve.

"I want to find him, y/n," he said, voice steady, unwavering.

The room felt colder suddenly. You swallowed hard, glancing back down at the card.

For the first time in three years, you felt something other than guilt.

"And I want you to help," Jun-ho said, his voice unwavering.

You shook your head immediately, your grip tightening on the card. "He—he wouldn’t want to see me, Jun-ho," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "He probably doesn’t even think I’m alive."

Jun-ho exhaled through his nose, rubbing his hands together as if weighing his words carefully. Then, he looked at you, his expression unreadable. "Maybe," he admitted, but there was something in his tone that made you look up. Something steadier. "But what if he does?"

You let out a bitter laugh, rubbing your tired eyes. "Jun-ho—"

"No," he cut in, shifting closer, his voice quieter but no less firm. "Listen to me. I know my brother. He’s stubborn, and he’s proud. But do you really think he wouldn’t want to know that everything he did wasn’t for nothing?"

You swallowed hard. But he kept going.

"If there’s even the smallest chance that seeing you, seeing his brother, could bring him back to this family… to himself… don’t you think it’s worth trying?"

Silence stretched between you.

The card in your hand suddenly felt heavier.

Jun-ho sighed, running a hand through his hair before standing up. "I’m going," he said simply. "With or without you."

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, exhaling shakily.

And when you opened them again, you knew—you couldn’t let him do this alone.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

The sky stretched endlessly above you, an uninterrupted canvas of brilliant blue, unmarred by even the softest wisp of cloud. Sunlight streamed through the canopy of trees, dappling the forest floor in shifting patches of gold. The air was warm, carrying the fresh scent of pine and damp earth, mingling with the faint perfume of wildflowers that lined the trail.

You breathed it all in, savoring the tranquility, but your attention—like always—remained elsewhere.

In-ho walked beside you, close enough that your arms nearly brushed with every step. His presence was stable, unshaken as if he belonged here among the towering trees and whispering leaves. You watched him from the corner of your eye, studying the way the sunlight caught in his black hair, the way his expression eased when he glanced at the beauty enveloping you. He was breathtaking in the way that made your chest ache—so full of life, so unshakably kind.

You knew you shouldn’t feel this way. Shouldn’t let your heart stumble over the very idea of him. He was your partner’s brother. This was a line you weren’t meant to cross.

But god, it was impossible.

The forest path narrowed as you and In-ho made your way toward the lake, the sounds of the world around you muffled by the thick, lush trees. The sunlight flickered through the branches, and as the air grew cooler, you felt the weight of his presence more intensely. The water was near—still, calm, and inviting. You could see the glimmer of it through the trees, its surface reflecting the blueness of the sky like a mirror.

In-ho’s steps slowed as you approached the water, and he looked toward the lake beyond the dock with a quiet smile. “It’s even more beautiful than I remember,” he murmured, almost to himself, the sound of his voice low and dreamy.

You stood at the edge of the dock, the water below gleaming with a quiet invitation. The air felt pure between you and In-ho. You could feel his gaze on you, like a weight on your skin, but you didn’t turn to meet it just yet. Instead, you reached behind you and unbuttoned the top of your shirt, slipping it off, and then slid your shorts down to reveal your bathing suit.

You could hear In-ho’s footsteps pause, a soft intake of breath behind you. His voice was quiet, questioning. “What are you doing?”

You turned to look at him, a small grin on your lips. “I’m going for a swim. Unless you’re too scared to join me?” you teased, your heart racing at the way his eyes followed your every movement.

There was a brief silence between you two before In-ho’s lips curled into a smile. He shook his head slightly, his expression unreadable, before starting to walk toward you. But before he could get any closer, you didn’t wait for him—you jumped, diving into the water with a splash, the coolness instantly enveloping you.

The moment you resurfaced, you caught sight of the dock above you, the ripples of the water swirling around you. With practiced grace, you swam towards the edge, your hands finding the weathered wood as you pulled yourself up, water streaming off your skin.

In-ho stood there, looking down at you from the edge of the dock, his gaze softer than before but still intense. Your heart beat wildly as you stretched out a hand, holding it out to him, your fingers just inches from his.

For a moment, In-ho hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, searching your face. You could see the battle in his expression, but then he stepped closer to the edge, reaching out for your hand.

The moment his fingers brushed yours, you pulled him in, tugging him into the water with you. His surprised laugh echoed in the air as he splashed into the lake beside you.

You turned away from the dock, your eyes fixed on the water, waiting for him to surface. The seconds stretched longer than they should have before you saw the dark shape of In-ho break through the surface, shaking his head to clear the water from his hair.

When he emerged, his hair clung damply to his forehead, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of it. The sound was light, carefree—until he wiped his eyes and looked at you, his face unwound, his expression somehow caught between amusement and something more in-depth. You felt your pulse quicken as you watched him, your body drawn toward him like a magnet.

Without thinking, your hand lifted, almost instinctively, to brush his hair from his eyes. The touch was delicate, gentle, but the moment it happened, you both froze. His eyes locked on yours, the softness in them catching you off guard. There was a stillness that passed between you, one that felt both fragile and inevitable.

His hand reached for your palm then his fingers curled around yours with a quiet passion. Slowly, he pulled your hand toward him, guiding you closer, his movements willful and slow, as if he was savoring the proximity. The way he held you felt different now—his grip was tender.

He gently guided your palm to the warm skin of his neck, his fingers pressing against your wrist, urging you closer still. You could feel the steady pulse beneath your hand, his breath shallow, quickening. At the same time, your other hand found its way around his neck, the back of his damp hair slick beneath your touch. The world seemed to narrow, focusing entirely on the space between you.

Before you could fully process what was happening, his arms slipped around your thighs, pulling you toward him with a strength that made your breath catch. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your bodies pressed so close there was nothing left between you—no distance, no hesitation. The lake water rippled around you, but all you could feel was the heat of his skin beneath your hands, the steady beat of his heart against yours, the weight of the moment that pulled you both into a perfect, suspended stillness.

In-ho’s fingers then moved softly through your damp hair, his touch light, almost reverent. He cupped your cheek, the warmth of his hand sending a shiver through you as he gently tilted your head to study you. His gaze lingered, taking you in like he was memorizing every detail—your flushed cheeks, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle in the light of the sun.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “What?” you teased softly, a playful edge to your voice. “Are you going to compliment me, or just stare?”

His lips curved into a slow, teasing grin, his eyes still locked on yours.

“I’m just trying to figure out how you managed to look even more beautiful after jumping into a lake.” He ran his thumb lightly across your cheek, his touch gentle. “It’s not fair.”

In-ho’s expression softened even further, the playful glint in his eyes fading into wonder. His thumb lingered against your skin, tracing slow, gentle circles. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts as if weighing the words carefully before letting them slip out.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now…” He hesitated for just a moment, his eyes searching yours, like he was trying to find the right way to say something that had been hidden for far too long. "I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but… I’ve been in love with you for longer than I care to admit.”

The confession hung between you, quiet but heavy with sincerity. His voice was soft, almost fragile, like he was giving you something vulnerable. The weight of his words settled around you, stirring a whirlwind of emotions inside. You could hear the honesty in his tone, the deep affection, the care that he held for you in every gesture, every look.

“You know,” you started, your voice more subdued than normal, “I’ve been thinking about something too.” You searched his eyes, trying to convey everything you felt in that one moment. “You always worry about me and your brother, but… I worry about you, In-ho. Every day, every time we’re out there.”

Your voice trembled slightly as you continued, the vulnerability in your words matching the uncertainty in your heart. “I don’t think you understand how much it scares me, the thought of something happening to you." In-ho reached out, adding his other hand to your cheek, his touch steady. “I know you care, and I care about you more than you can imagine.” His eyes searched yours, intense and serious, but there was a soft kind of resolve in them that made your heart ache.

He leaned in slightly, his forehead pressing gently against yours. “Even if I disappear, even if I’m not here… I’ll always be with you. I won’t leave you, not really. You’ll always have a piece of me with you.” He leaned further in, pressing his lips to yours for a quick kiss, pulling back a moment later with another sweet, reassuring promise.

"No matter what happens, I’ll always be with you.”

A rough, urgent hand shook your shoulder, the pressure bringing you back to consciousness with a start.

Your eyes fluttered open, groggy from the haze of sleep, and you jolted upright in the passenger seat of Jun-ho’s car. The dim glow of the street light filtered through the windows, casting a pale glow on the dashboard. You blinked, still disoriented, trying to shake the remnants of the memory that had been pulling you under.

The weight of Jun-ho’s hand on your arm lingered for a moment before he released it and quickly reached for your hand. His grip was feeble, a contrast to the way his expression was tight with concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and almost hesitant, as if unsure whether to push you further.

You turned to him, your gaze meeting his, and you could see it—the groove in his brow, the way his lips were pressed into a narrow line. There was unease in the way he watched you, something familiar but hard to ignore.

You rubbed your tired eyes, trying to will the sleepiness away, and forced a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled, your voice still thick with the remnants of slumber.

Jun-ho didn’t seem convinced, though. He hummed softly, his voice almost too quiet for the silence of the car. “You were doing it again,” he said, his tone carrying a weight that made your chest tighten.

“Doing what?” you asked, still trying to clear the fog from your mind.

He hesitated for a moment before withdrawing his hand from yours and reaching over to offer you a bottle of water. His fingers brushed against yours, cold against your warm skin, as he handed it to you.

“Whimpering his name,” Jun-ho said, the words coming out carefully like he was weighing every syllable. His eyes flickered toward you briefly before they returned to the harbor ahead, but there was something in the way he said it that sent a ripple of discomfort through you.

You glanced down at the bottle in your hand, but you didn’t bring it to your lips. Instead, you were focused on the sensation of his words. The reality of it stung, pulling at something raw inside of you.

You didn’t know how to respond, so you did the only thing that felt safe in that moment—you looked away, turning your face toward the window, hiding the flurry of emotions.

You cleared your throat, the sound catching in the stillness of the car as you tried to shake off the heaviness that paused in the air. You shifted in your seat, glancing out the window at the bustling port ahead, the soft hum of distant engines and the sway of boats cutting through the thick tension between you.

"What's the plan again?" you asked, your voice a little too tight, though you tried to mask it with a sense of casualness.

Jun-ho didn’t take his eyes off the road as he responded, his voice steady but carrying an edge of uncertainty. "We wait until 6 PM," he said, glancing down at his watch. His fingers brushed over the timepiece with a nervous habit. "Which is... three minutes from now." He paused, then glanced at your reflection in the window, his face softened but lined with an unreadable expression. "I wish I knew what to expect, but... I don't." The silence that followed felt thick, charged with the weight of unspoken things.

You looked back at him, your heart twisting at the concern etched into his face, and offered a reassuring smile, though it felt strained. "I'll do whatever you need me to do."

His eyes flickered briefly to you before he nodded, his jaw tightening, like he was carrying more than just the weight of the mission. He sighed, a quiet exhale that seemed to carry everything he hadn’t said. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. "What... what were you dreaming of?"

The question caught you off guard, and you felt your throat tighten as you fidgeted in your seat again. You ran a hand over your face, your fingers trembling slightly, the memory still fresh.

"That day at the lake..." you started, but the words caught in your throat. The weight of it—what had happened, the things you hadn’t said, the emotions you hadn’t let yourself feel—clung to your chest like a lead weight.

"When... when In-ho told me..." You faltered, unable to find the words that would make sense of it all.

Before anything else could slip from your lips, the sudden sweep of headlights caught your attention. The flicker of bright, glaring lights poured into the side mirror, sharp and blinding against the darkening sky. You jerked your head toward it, your pulse quickening as you recognized the unmistakable silhouette of several vehicles—vans, by the look of it—growing larger in the reflection.

"Jun-ho!" you gasped, your voice tight with urgency. "Behind us, there’s lights. Lots of them."

Without a word, Jun-ho’s face shifted from concern to something more focused—more dangerous. His eyes shot to the rearview mirror, and in one swift motion, he cut the engine, the car's hum falling silent. The tension in the air thickened, every second stretching as the sound of the approaching vans grew louder, their engines growling through the otherwise still night.

"Down!" he hissed, urgency sharp in his voice. Without thinking, you ducked instinctively, pressing yourself low against the seat, your heart pounding against your ribs. The world outside the car blurred into streaks of light, the headlights of the vans flashing in quick succession as they rumbled past.

Once the last of the vans disappeared into the port entrance, you and Jun-ho slowly sat back up, eyes locked on the convoy as it rolled steadily toward a massive loading ship. The hulking vessel loomed over the water, its floodlights casting long, eerie beams across the dock. The sound of metal groaning echoed through the air as ramps lowered, ready to swallow the vehicles into its depths.

You exchanged a glance with Jun-ho, a silent conversation passing between you—no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just action.

With a sharp nod, the two of you flung open your doors, slipping out of the car in one fluid motion. Your boots barely made a sound against the concrete as you sprinted toward the dock, keeping low, moving as one. The salty tang of the ocean mixed with the faint scent of oil and gasoline, and the rhythmic crash of waves was almost drowned out by the mechanical sounds of the ship preparing for departure.

Guns drawn, you pressed yourselves against the cold steel siding of a small storage building, hearts pounding in sync. Jun-ho exhaled slowly, his breath steady despite the tension crackling between you.

“What are we doing, Jun-ho?” you whispered, gripping your weapon tightly as you peered around the edge of the building.

He mirrored your movement, stealing a quick glance at the loading area before ducking back beside you. His voice was low but firm. “The vans are stopped.” His eyes flicked to yours, sharp with intent. “We split up. Get low, hide beneath a van, and let them take us onto the ship.”

You swallowed hard but nodded. This was reckless. Dangerous. But it was the only way.

Jun-ho reached into his pocket and produced a tiny comm link, pressing it into your palm. “Put this in your ear,” he instructed. “Keep me updated on your position at all times.”

You gave a tight nod, slotting the device into place as you prepared to move. But just as you stepped forward, Jun-ho’s fingers wrapped around your wrist—firm, urgent.

Your breath caught as you turned back to face him. His grip wasn’t forceful, but there was something weighted in the way he held you there, something implicit that flickered in his dark eyes. Worry.

“Stay out of sight, y/n,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And be careful.”

For a moment, the intensity in his gaze pinned you in place. There was something deeper there, something intimate that went beyond just concern for a partner. It was protective. Personal. A silent plea.

You let a small smile tug at your lips, trying to ease the tension. “Aren’t I always?” you teased softly, though your heart thrummed wildly against your ribs.

Jun-ho’s lips pressed together, like he wanted to say something more—but instead, he simply let go of your hand, his fingers trailing away with reluctant hesitation.

Then, without another word, you turned and slipped into the shadows, heart hammering as you prepared to vanish into the night.

The memories clung to you like a shadow as you ran through the darkness, each footstep light but filled with the weight of the past. The sting of salt in the air, the distant hum of the ship, the adrenaline surging through your veins—it all blurred together beneath the echo of a voice from years ago.

Jun-ho’s voice.

It had been a hard pill for him to swallow back then. The truth of your surface-level feelings for him. The way he had always been there—steady, watching over you with quiet devotion. You had known, even before he ever admitted it, that he cared deeply for you. Perhaps even loved you. But love had a cruel sense of irony.

Because your heart had never belonged to him.

It had belonged to his brother.

Your breathing stumbled as you recalled the night it all came spilling out—the raw, unfiltered confession buried in slurred words and whiskey-laced regret. It had been late, the bar dimly lit and nearly empty, save for the two of you. His fingers had curled around his glass, knuckles white, jaw clenched as he forced himself to say what he had buried for so long.

"You don’t even see it, do you?" he had murmured, his voice bitter.

"How much I lov—" He had cut himself off, shaking his head with a humorless laugh before downing the rest of his drink.

You had frozen, your heart squeezing painfully, because in that moment, you saw it all. The way his feelings had festered beneath the surface, hidden behind late-night conversations and lingering touches that you never thought twice about. And worst of all, you had seen the pain in his eyes as he realized the inevitable.

That you loved In-ho.

And that In-ho loved you.

Now, as time had squeaked by, Jun-ho had learned to hide it well. He buried it beneath layers of professionalism, sarcasm, and quiet understanding. It had become something unspoken, something he never let rise to the surface—except in rare moments. Moments like earlier, when his fingers curled around your wrist just a little too tightly. When his voice carried that same note of hesitation.

It still hurts you.

To know he was in pain. To know that no matter how much time passed, no matter how much he tried to pretend, a part of him still carried that weight.

And yet, as you ducked behind a stack of crates, heart hammering as you prepared to slip beneath one of the vans, you couldn’t afford to think about it anymore. Not now. Not when danger lurked just ahead.

But still…

It lingered.

You clicked the comm link in your ear, pressing it just enough to activate the line. “In position. About to make my move under the van.” Your voice was a whisper, barely audible over the distant crash of waves against the dock.

A faint crackle followed before In-ho’s voice came through, steady and controlled. “Stay low. On my mark, make your move.”

You pressed yourself against the cold metal of the crate, your breath hitching as you scanned your surroundings. The dim glow of overhead floodlights cast long, flickering shadows across the dock, stretching over the pavement like creeping fingers. Your pulse quickened as movement caught your eye in the distance.

A figure. No—figures.

Dressed in pink uniforms, their hoods pulled high over their heads, their faces hidden behind dark masks. They moved in pairs, methodical and silent, sweeping the area with slow, calculated strides. Rifles slung over their shoulders, their heads turned sharply from side to side, scanning the shadows, ensuring every corner of the ship’s perimeter was clear.

A chill ran down your spine. They were everywhere.

You clicked the comm link again, barely daring to move. “Jun-ho, watch your six.” Your voice was tight, urgent. “There are guards everywhere.”

A long pause. Then, his voice came through—lower this time, more serious. “Copy that. Stay hidden.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers flexing over the pavement as you readied yourself. The tension in the air thickened, your body coiled like a spring, waiting for the moment to move.

In-ho’s voice finally returned, quiet but firm. “Now.”

You took a sharp breath and made your move.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

The ship had long since left the dock, its massive hull cutting through the waves with a rhythmic hum. You could feel the vibration of it beneath you, the low rumble of the engine pulsing through the steel floor, through your bones. The scent of oil thickened the air, mixing with the faint tang of rust.

Curled beneath the van, you stayed as still as possible, pressed against the cold undercarriage, every breath controlled, every muscle tense. The ship swayed ever so slightly, the motion subtle but constant, a reminder that there was no turning back now.

Your comm link crackled to life in your ear.

"Hanging in there?" Jun-ho’s voice came through, laced with quiet amusement.

You exhaled softly, shaking your head even though he couldn’t see you. "We’re closer to your brother than we’ve been in three years, Jun-ho. What do you think?"

A short laugh came from the other end—warm but edged with something heavier. "Fair point."

Silence stretched between you for a moment, broken only by the faint sounds of footsteps above, boots thudding against metal as the guards moved across the ship’s deck. Your fingers curled into a fist against the hard ground.

Jun-ho’s voice softened. "I promise we’ll get him back, y/n."

You bit your lip, hesitation gnawing at you. "We don’t even know if he wants to come home," you whispered, barely daring to say it aloud. The thought had haunted you for years. "Or what his part is in any of this."

A quiet hum came through the comm, Jun-ho’s thoughtful exhale. When he finally spoke, his words were steady, resigned, yet resolute.

"If we find him, and he doesn’t want to come home… then at least we’ll know we did what we could for him."

Something in your chest tightened at that.

Because deep down, you knew that if In-ho chose to stay—if he had changed into someone neither of you recognized—you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to let him go.

Jun-ho’s voice was quieter now, almost wistful, carrying an edge of something he rarely let slip.

“And maybe we could start fresh,” he finished, the words hanging between you like a possibility neither of you had dared to speak aloud before.

“We could quit our jobs, find something else—something that doesn’t come with a gun in our hands or a target on our backs. Leave it all behind… for good.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a slow-moving tide, threatening to pull you under.

Start fresh.

You had never allowed yourself to dream of that. Had never let yourself imagine a life beyond the chase, beyond the endless pursuit of justice, of closure, of the ghosts that never stopped following you. But now, hearing it from Jun-ho—spoken so plainly, so genuinely—it made something inside you ache.

A life where there were no late-night stakeouts, no whispered orders over comm links, no bulletproof vests or bodies lost in the shuffle of corruption. A life where you weren’t constantly searching for something—someone—just out of reach.

Could you really walk away?

Would In-ho, if you found him?

You swallowed hard, staring at the dim underbelly of the van, the vibrations of the ship’s engines thrumming beneath your body. Your voice was barely above a whisper when you finally spoke.

“Do you really think it’s that simple?”

Jun-ho exhaled, a breathy chuckle tinged with something almost sad. "I don’t know. But I’d like to think there’s a world where we could be more than just this.”

You closed your eyes for a brief second, allowing yourself—for the first time—to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he was right as the two of you lay beneath vans beside each other.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

Twenty minutes had passed, though it felt like an eternity, the weight of damp fabric pressed against you. The stolen uniform fit awkwardly, the material stiff, the sleeves slightly too long as if the previous owner’s presence still lingered.

You had moved quickly—silently. The guard never even had time to scream before your hands snapped his neck with a sickening crack. His body had hit the water without a sound, swallowed by the dark waves below. You hadn’t let yourself think about it. There was no time for hesitation, no space for second thoughts. Survival had demanded ruthlessness, and you had given it without question.

Now, standing in the dimly lit cabin of the ship, your heart pounded against your ribs, each beat a drum of anticipation. Shadows stretched along the walls, the flickering glow of old, buzzing lights casting uneven shapes across the steel interior. The hum of the ship’s engine vibrated through your bones, yet you still felt untethered—adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

You couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t move.

Couldn’t even call for Jun-ho. You were too close to the others.

For all you knew, he could be standing in the room with you, a breath away, just as silent, just as unseen. The air was thick with tension, each second stretching impossibly long. Your grip tightened into a fist at your side, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Then—the lightest touch.

A brush of warmth against your fingers, so delicate you almost thought you imagined it.

Jun-ho.

The tension coiled in your chest began to unravel, the weight pressing down on you, lifting just enough for you to breathe again. He was beside you.

The ship docked with a heavy groan of metal against concrete, the subtle sway of the water beneath you replaced by the rigid stillness of solid ground. The transition was seamless—no hesitation, no time to breathe. Orders were barked, movements synchronized, and like a well-oiled machine, you followed along, blending into the sea of masked figures.

You climbed into the driver’s seat of one of the transport vans, gripping the wheel with hands that didn’t feel like your own. The thick gloves made your fingers clumsy, but you forced yourself to focus. The weight of the uniform, the anonymity of the mask—it was suffocating, yet necessary.

As the van rumbled to life, you drove in a straight, controlled line, mirroring the other vehicles in the convoy. The facility loomed ahead, a cold monolith of concrete and steel, its high walls stretching endlessly into the darkened sky. The moment you passed through the towering gates, your stomach twisted. There was no turning back now.

The night blurred into a haze of orders followed and errands run. The rigid structure of the facility allowed no room for mistakes—no hesitation, no deviation. Guards moved like phantoms, silent, their every step rehearsed. You mimicked them perfectly, keeping your head low, your movements precise. Jun-ho was never far, always within sight but never obvious. A shadow among shadows.

At last, after what felt like hours, you were dismissed to your cabins.

You followed Jun-ho closely, his presence an unspoken reassurance in the vast, sterile hallways. Your masks were scanned at a checkpoint, a quick flicker of red light passing over the numbers now assigned to you. Attendance. A subtle but effective way to track who belonged and who didn’t. Your numbers were sequential—assigned side by side, keeping you close.

Now, you stood in front of your respective doors, the dim, flickering light above casting elongated shadows against the cold steel. You glanced sideways, watching as Jun-ho reached for the keypad on his door, his fingers moving with practiced ease.

You did the same, pressing the cool metal of the scanner, waiting for the soft beep before the lock released.

For a moment, you hesitated, gripping the door handle, your heart still racing from the events of the night. Then, you exhaled and stepped inside, shutting the heavy steel door behind you with a quiet thud.

The silence pressed in around you.

For the first time since boarding the ship, you were alone.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you were terrified.

You had faced danger before—walked through crime scenes stained with blood, pursued criminals through darkened alleys, wrestled with the weight of life and death more times than you cared to count. Murders, robberies, violent, gruesome killings—you had seen it all. But this was different.

This was something else entirely.

You weren’t the hunter here. You were the prey, trapped in an environment where the rules were unspoken but absolute, where one wrong move could mean the difference between survival and a bullet to the head.

Your breath was shallow as you sat stiffly on the small cot, the mattress thin and unyielding beneath you. The walls around you were bare, lifeless. Cold. A single dim light buzzed overhead, casting an eerie glow across the metallic surfaces. In the corner of the room, a small, unblinking red light glowed—a camera. Watching. Recording.

The soft crackle of the comm link in your ear startled you, breaking the suffocating silence.

It was as if he could sense your fear.

“Stay calm,” his voice was low, steady—a tether in the storm. “There are cameras in our rooms. Don’t show weakness. And whatever you do, don’t show your face to the camera.”

You swallowed hard, forcing the tension from your shoulders, willing your hands to stop trembling. “Copy,” you whispered.

A deep breath came through the link, then Jun-ho’s voice again, quieter this time. “For all we know… In-ho could be on the authoritative side in this facility. But if we’re caught, we have no idea what they’ll do to us. Best not to take any chances.”

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, pressing your lips together to suppress the flood of emotions threatening to surface. You had waited three years for this—three years of searching, of unanswered questions, of agonizing uncertainty. And now, you were closer than ever.

But you still had no idea what you were walking into.

No idea who In-ho had become.

The thought sent another wave of unease through you, but you shoved it down, exhaling slowly as you opened your eyes. Jun-ho was right. Now wasn’t the time for fear.

“For now, we take orders,” Jun-ho continued, his tone resolute. “We do what we’re told. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. Your voice was barely above a whisper when you finally responded.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“For now, get some rest.” Jun-ho’s voice was softer this time, a quiet reassurance cutting through the barren emptiness of your room. “I’m close by, and it’ll stay that way until we get out of here.”

You wanted to believe that. Needed to.

The comm line crackled faintly, and then—silence.

The absence of his voice felt heavier than it should have, settling into the pit of your stomach like a stone. You sat still for a moment, listening—to the low hum of the ventilation system, the distant echoes of footsteps in the corridor, the rhythmic buzz of the fluorescent light overhead. Everything about this place felt unnatural. Controlled.

Shifting slightly on the cot, you let out a slow breath, your muscles aching from the tension of the day. You knew you needed sleep, but the thought of closing your eyes in this place, where danger lurked behind every corner, made your pulse quicken.

But Jun-ho was close and so was In-ho.

Swallowing back the unease, you lay down, curling slightly on your side to avoid facing the ever-watching camera. The mattress was stiff beneath you, the blanket thin and rough, but exhaustion was creeping in, dulling the sharp edges of your fear.

You held onto Jun-ho’s words, repeating them in your mind like a mantra.

I’m close by.

It’ll stay that way.

As your eyes fluttered shut, the hum of the facility droned on, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to drift into uneasy sleep.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

You sat snug on the couch, wrapped in the warmth of a soft blanket that cocooned you like a gentle embrace, the flickering light from the TV casting a soothing glow across the room. The pages of your book turned easily beneath your fingers, but the comforting scent of fresh coffee wafting through the air kept pulling your attention away. In the space beside you, In-ho sat casually, his presence a quiet comfort. Your feet rested in his lap, and his thumb absentmindedly circled the soft skin of your ankle, the movement both soothing and intimate, grounding you in the moment. His eyes were locked onto the TV screen, absorbed in the rerun of one of your favorite shows. Without hesitation, he'd dove into it once you shared it was something you loved—he was always so eager to understand every little thing that made you smile, laugh, or even cry.

It was as if everything you cared about fascinated him, and you found yourself smiling at the way he would learn about the things you loved, weaving them into the fabric of your shared life.

But as the scene unfolded on the screen, you couldn’t help but watch him. His features softened in the dim light, his attention rapt on the show, but there was something so peaceful about the way he sat beside you, as though this moment was as perfect for him as it was for you.

You must have been staring longer than you realized, because suddenly, his chin snapped in your direction, his eyes locking with yours, curious and alert.

"What?" he asked, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You hummed softly, not needing to think about your response. "Nothing," you said, the words coming out as if they’d always been there. "I just enjoy watching you."

A quiet smile stretched across his face, and without another word, he scooted closer to you. The air around you seemed to shift as he leaned in, taking your book from your hands and tossing it casually onto the coffee table. His fingers gently spread your legs, creating a space for him between them as he lowered his head to your chest.

His body pressed against yours, arms wrapping around your waist, a warm, familiar weight, and you instinctively leaned down, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his temple. The moment was so quiet, so tender, and you allowed him to sink into the comfort of your embrace as his gaze returned to the show, now content to simply be near you.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. His body was warm against yours, his weight familiar, grounding. The steady rhythm of his breathing matched your own, slow and easy, as though neither of you wanted to break the moment.

Then, without warning, he pressed a soft kiss to your breastbone, the warmth of his lips lingering against your skin. It was fleeting, but enough to send a gentle shiver down your spine. When he lifted his head, his dark eyes found yours, deep and searching, holding something heavier than the peaceful stillness that surrounded you.

“Let’s have a baby,” he murmured.

Your breath caught. The words settled into the air between you, delicate yet weighted, and your eyes widened in surprise. Your heart stuttered, your fingers unconsciously tightening against the fabric of his shirt.

You had talked about it once before—the possibility of starting a family, of what that might look like—but it had been just that: a possibility. A distant thought. Neither of you had brought it up again since then, and now, here he was, laying it bare, no hesitation in his voice.

You swallowed, your lips parting as you searched for something—anything—to say. Finally, you managed, “Are you sure?” The words came out barely above a whisper, tinged with uncertainty, with the weight of everything this meant.

In-ho pushed himself up, leveling himself with you, his face inches from yours. His hand found your cheek, fingertips brushing away a stray strand of hair, his touch impossibly gentle. He held your gaze, his thumb grazing the curve of your jaw, and with a certainty that left no room for doubt, he said,

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

His voice was low, steady, laced with quiet conviction. The sincerity in his eyes sent warmth blooming in your chest, melting away the initial shock. He wasn’t just saying it—he meant it. Every word.

Your lips parted, but no words came. Instead, you just looked at him—at the man who had woven himself so deeply into your life, your heart. He was watching you so intently, waiting, searching your face for a sign, for an answer.

A breathy laugh escaped you, shaky and disbelieving. “You really mean it?” you asked, voice softer this time.

His thumb traced small, soothing circles against your cheek. “I do,” he whispered. “I think about it all the time. What our child would be like. If they’d have your smile, your laugh… your heart.” He exhaled, his forehead brushing against yours. “I want this with you.”

Your chest swelled, your heart a fluttering mess beneath your ribs. “In-ho…” You barely managed his name, your throat tightening with emotion.

“I know it’s big,” he continued, his fingers now sliding down to lace with yours. “And I know it’s scary, but I want to build that life with you. I want late nights rocking them to sleep. I want tiny hands reaching for us. I want to watch you love them the way you love everything—with your whole heart.” He let out a small, breathless chuckle, shaking his head. “I love you. And I know that if we do this… our child is going to have the most incredible mother.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Warmth bloomed in your chest, spilling into every inch of you.

You squeezed his hand, the weight of his words wrapping around you like a promise. A future. A dream neither of you had fully allowed yourselves to grasp before now.

A slow, watery smile crept across your lips. “You really think I’d be a good mom?”

His eyes softened. “I know you would.”

Your throat bobbed with emotion, and then, in one swift movement, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close. He let out a soft chuckle as he melted into you, his arms winding around your waist, holding you as if he never wanted to let go.

“I love you,” you whispered against his temple, pressing a lingering kiss to his hair.

His hold on you tightened. “So… is that a yes?”

A quiet laugh bubbled from your chest as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. You didn’t even have to think anymore.

“Yes,” you breathed.

His grin was instant, bright, and boyish, filled with something raw and beautiful. He kissed you then, deep and slow, pouring all of his love, all of his joy into you.

Your heart was pounding—so fast, so violently that it felt like it might shatter right through your ribs. The force of it ripped you from sleep, your body jerking upright as a sharp, gasping breath tore from your lungs. The room was dark, but your vision swam, unfocused, the remnants of the dream still clinging to you like phantom hands you couldn't shake.

It wasn’t a dream.

It was a memory again.

Another cruel, agonizing memory, dragged from the depths of your mind just to remind you of everything you had lost.

A strangled sob broke from your throat as your hands shot up, pressing hard against your face, as if you could somehow smother the pain, force it back down where it wouldn’t consume you. But it was already there, crawling through your chest, squeezing around your lungs like a vice. You sucked in a breath, but it was useless—shallow, shaky, burning.

Your skin was damp, slick with sweat, but you were cold. So unbearably cold.

You were tired. Tired of this endless torment. Tired of waking up like this, drowning in grief that refused to let go. Tired of being haunted by something you could never get back.

Your shoulders trembled, your body curling in on itself as wave after wave of sorrow crashed over you, relentless and merciless.

You just wanted it to stop.

Just for one night.

Just long enough to breathe.

But deep down, you knew—this grief, this heartbreak… it wasn’t letting go of you anytime soon.

_____________________________

The weight of the bodies in your arms was nothing compared to the weight in your chest. You knew where you were—what this place was—but the stark finality of it didn’t truly sink in until now. Until you were standing among the dead.

Your hands trembled slightly as you lifted another body, the limp form heavier than you expected. It wasn't just the physical strain—it was the sheer wrongness of it.

Here, life was taken without hesitation. Without ceremony. A single gunshot to the head—quick, efficient, painless, if such a thing could be called mercy. It wasn’t personal. It was routine.

You reached for the coffin cover, your fingers just brushing the edge—when it was suddenly snatched away.

Though Jun-ho's face was concealed behind his mask, his movements betrayed him—protective. Before you could even react, the room erupted into chaos.

A single gunshot cracked through the air, splitting the silence like lightning. Then—shouting. Struggling. The sound of bodies shifting, boots scuffing against the gravel.

Your head snapped up just as Jun-ho shifted closer to you, his voice a low whisper. “Back up. Stay behind me.”

Your pulse hammered against your ribs as you obeyed, instinct kicking in. You weren’t armed. Neither of you were. And that realization settled over you like ice.

At the center of the chaos, a player stood trembling, a stolen pistol clutched in his hands. His arm shook, but his aim did not waver. The barrel of the gun was pressed flush against the forehead of a guard.

“Take it off,” the player demanded, his voice raw with desperation. “Take off the mask. Look at me.”

For a moment, no one moved. No one breathed.

Then, slowly—hesitantly—the guard obeyed.

The mask fell away, revealing a face that was far too young for this place. Barely a man. Eyes filled with something detached and misplaced.

Your breath caught in your throat.

What was he doing here?

How could someone so young be a part of this?

But before those thoughts could fully form, the player made his choice.

A sharp inhale. A flicker of resolve.

Then—he turned the gun on himself.

The shot rang out, deafening. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Silence followed. Heavy. Suffocating.

And then—boots.

Slow. Intentional.

The purest sound of authority.

Your head snapped to the left, just as Jun-ho’s did.

A man approached, his uniform a stark contrast to the others. Head to toe in gray, a mask black as the void concealing his face. He moved with eerie precision, gun already raised.

One shot.

The young guard barely had time to react before the bullet tore through his head, his body collapsing beside the player’s.

You inhaled sharply, the horror of it settling deep in your bones.

Then—the man spoke.

“Remember.” His voice was smooth, level—chilling. “Once they find out who you are, you die.”

His steps never faltered as he turned, moving past you without a second glance.

So close that his shoulder nearly brushed yours.

You stood frozen, every muscle in your body locked tight, your own breath feeling too loud in the deathly quiet.

Jun-ho exhaled slowly beside you, barely above a whisper. “We need to find In-ho and get the fuck out of here.”

You didn’t dare nod. Didn’t dare move.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

You sat cross-legged on your bed, the thin mattress barely offering any comfort, the tray of lukewarm food balanced on your lap. Mechanically, you took another bite, chewing without really tasting it, your gaze locked onto the official transfer papers resting on the sheets beside you. The crisp white pages were handed to you by an officer earlier that morning without so much as a second glance.

It had been two days.

Two days of dragging lifeless bodies across cold concrete, the metallic stench of blood clinging to your skin no matter how many times you scrubbed your hands raw. Two days of bowing your head, following orders, keeping your expression carefully neutral beneath the ever-watchful eyes of masked guards. Two days of stealing glances at Jun-ho as he maneuvered through the facility, shifting seamlessly between identities, slipping into the skin of a different man each time.

You had seen the way he carried himself—first as a low-ranking worker, blending into the sea of pink-clad figures, and then as a square guard, his stolen mask concealing the sharp determination in his eyes. He had taken the uniform off a dead man, stripping him of his role just as easily as the guards stripped their victims of life. All to get closer, to gather more intel.

And you—

You wanted to help. You wanted to be in the thick of it with him, to shoulder some of the weight of this dangerous game you were both playing. But Jun-ho had been firm, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"Stay back. Stay safe."

He preferred the target to be on him, for the guards to believe he was the only intruder. It was strategic, calculated—if anything went wrong, at least you wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire. At least one of you would still have a way out.

You exhaled, setting your tray aside, your appetite long gone. Your fingers skimmed over the edges of the transfer papers, the stark black ink of your new assignment staring back at you. A new role. A new place to hide in plain sight

Your fingers curled around the edges of the brittle transfer papers, your stomach twisting as you read the words again. You had been reassigned. Not to the usual mindless tasks—not to disposing of bodies, scrubbing blood from the floors, or following silent orders.

No, this was different.

You were to serve VIPs.

The second-to-last game was about to begin, and your role was clear: cater to them, offer liquor, serve food, be present—but unseen. You didn’t allow your mind to wander beyond that, refused to let yourself consider what else they might expect.

Because there were no rules here.

No boundaries.

No lines that couldn’t be crossed.

That thought alone sent a sickening chill through you.

The comm link in your ear crackled suddenly, making you flinch.

"What were you given earlier?"

Jun-ho’s voice came through, steady but cautious, like he was bracing for something he wouldn’t like.

You swallowed down the unease rising in your throat before answering.

“Transfer papers. They want me to serve the VIPs.”

A heavy silence followed.

Then, Jun-ho hummed thoughtfully, though there was a tightness to the sound, an unspoken weight behind it.

You forced yourself to continue. “Y’know… pour alcohol, serve food. Stuff like that, I guess.”

The words felt hollow as they left your mouth, as if saying them out loud might make them true, might make this role as simple as it sounded. But you both knew better.

"VIPs?" Jun-ho repeated, his tone skeptical. “You hear anything about them?”

You hesitated. “No, but they must be high-ranking if they’re given their own space, their own servers. And if they’re allowed to watch everything up close.”

Jun-ho didn’t respond right away, and you could almost hear the gears turning in his head. He had been careful since stepping into this place, but this—this was unknown.

"I don’t like it," he admitted at last, his voice quieter but firm.

You swallowed hard. “Neither do I.”

The unstated fear remained between you. Whoever these VIPs were, they were powerful enough to be protected, to be kept separate from the rest.

And that alone made them dangerous.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

The black dress clung to you like a second skin—too tight, too short, too deliberately designed to make you look enticing. The fabric hugged your upper thighs, the hem barely skimming the curve of your ass, leaving little to the imagination. Every step you took made the sheer tights shine against the chandeliers, a constant, unwanted reminder of how exposed you felt. The glossy black heels that fit around your feet were the tallest you’d ever worn, forcing you to adjust your balance with each step, each shift of your weight.

Your commanding officers had been meticulous in their orders: hair down, cascading over your shoulders, its purpose clear—conceal the clip of your black mask. The loose strands felt foreign against your skin, framing your face in a way that made you feel even more vulnerable.

But what unsettled you the most was the thick layer of makeup painted onto your face. Powder, contour, shimmering highlights, all meticulously placed to enhance features that no one would even see. And the lipstick—deep, blood-red, stark against your skin. A cruel joke, considering the mask that concealed everything but your eyes. You had questioned its necessity, but no one had answered. Maybe it was all about the illusion, the mere suggestion of beauty beneath the disguise.

Still, it made you nervous. The entire situation did.

But you couldn’t show it.

With steady hands, you balanced the silver tray of wine glasses and descended the grand staircase leading into the lavish room. Gilded walls gleamed under the warm glow of chandeliers, and the plush, oversized furniture was arranged like a decadent playground for the six VIPs lounging around, their golden masks gleaming in the dim light. Laughter and murmured conversation filled the air, but you barely heard it, your heartbeat thudding loud in your ears.

Two square guards stood near the walls, their stiff postures a contrast to the indulgent sprawl of the men before them. And then there was the captain.

The moment you stepped onto the marble floor, you felt his gaze.

His mask tilted upward, attention locked onto you as you made your way forward, tray in hand. You didn't know what exactly he was looking at—the length of your exposed legs? The way your hair fell in soft waves around your shoulders? Or maybe it was something deeper, something unreadable beneath the stark black mask covering your face.

You forced yourself to keep moving, the heels clicking against the floor, the weight of the tray steady in your grasp. But the weight of his stare made your breath catch.

So you did what you could.

You lowered your gaze, focused on the swirling crimson liquid in the delicate glasses, and moved through the room, offering wine to the golden-masked men who barely acknowledged you.

Your heart pounded in your chest.

This was only the beginning.

And you had no idea what was expected of you next.

"So how are your scores so far? Bet on any winners?" One of the VIPS asked as you bent down, offering a glass. The breeze you felt on your ass made your breath snag, but you moved on after the man took a glass.

"No. For some reason I keep picking losers." One of the other men said as you walked around. Your heels clicked loudly, drowning out the sound of the music playing overhead. You wished Jun-ho were here. You wished your partner were here.

The game unfolded before you in a spectacle of lights, glass, and muted screams, but you barely registered the horror playing out in front of you. Standing at the side of the opulent room, you kept yourself small, trying to blend into the background as much as possible. The other servers, dressed just as provocatively, moved silently, refilling glasses and catering to the whims of the men who sat reclined in their lavish seats, watching the brutality unfold with twisted amusement.

Then, a deep voice cut through the low hum of conversation.

"Don’t be shy, my lovely. Come on over."

The voice belonged to the man sitting at the front, closest to the captain. His golden elk mask gleamed beneath the warm glow of the chandelier, catching the light with every subtle movement. He was leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the armrest in a posture of complete leisure, his other hand outstretched toward you, beckoning.

Your heart sank...sank and sank until you thought it might crash onto the marble floor beneath you.

For a fleeting second, you hesitated.

And that’s when you felt it—an invisible weight, pressing down on you.

The captain’s mask turned in your direction.

Even without seeing his eyes, you felt his stare—heavy, unrelenting, a silent demand that burned into your skin like a warning. Your refusal to move, even for just a moment, had not gone unnoticed.

The air in the room grew suffocating.

Your fingers tightened into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms, grounding yourself against the sickening dread pooling in your stomach. Your legs felt like lead, but somehow, they moved.

One step.

Then another.

The distance between you and the elk-masked man closed too quickly, yet not quickly enough. You could feel the heat of a dozen gazes on you—some amused, some indifferent, but his… his was expectant.

When you finally stopped before him, he tilted his head slightly, as if studying you from behind the mask.

You swallowed hard, standing there stiffly, waiting for whatever was to come next.

But the worst part was, you had no idea what he wanted.

And that terrified you more than anything.

The man let out a low, satisfied groan as his eyes lingered on you, his hand reaching out to graze the curve of your calf. His touch sent a wave of revulsion through you, but you fought the instinct to pull away. With the captain’s mask fixed firmly on your back, every muscle in your body screamed to obey, to stay still, to endure.

You took a step closer, the warmth of his body radiating up to meet yours, but the touch only grew more invasive. His hand slid up your thigh with casual arrogance, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin. Before you could react, he pulled you forward, and you fell, unceremoniously, into his lap.

The shock of the movement knocked the breath out of you, his hands caressing the skin of your thighs.

He laughed, a breathy, self-satisfied sound, his hot, alcohol-scented breath washing over your mask. You could feel his grip tightening on your upper thigh as if claiming ownership, each subtle shift making you feel smaller, more exposed.

“Are you enjoying yourself, darling?” His voice was slow, deliberate, as if testing how far he could push you, his fingers making subtle circles along your skin.

You blinked, fighting to keep your expression neutral, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you. “Of course, sir.” The words were louder than you wanted, leaving your lips before you could stop them, the fake cheer in them tasting bitter and hollow.

His hand cupped your chin, his fingers digging in, forcing you to meet his gaze. You couldn’t look away. The nasty grin on his face sent a sick feeling twisting through your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” he ordered, his tone thick with amusement. “Where are you from?”

You bit your lip, trying to steady the frantic beating of your heart. You told him where you were from, the words left your mouth before you could stop them, a reflexive lie that felt like sand in your mouth.

He hummed, pleased, his fingers tangling in your hair, yanking, and inquisitive as he pulled you closer. The force of his fingers in your hair loosened your mask, and for a split second, it made you panic. The black mask had shifted, exposing part of your face. Half of your vulnerability was now laid bare, that half of your face exposed to the captain.

Your pulse spiked, terror rising in your chest as half of your identity was half revealed to him.

You barely had time to react. The second your hand reached up to adjust your mask, it was too late. A gloved hand seized your wrist with unyielding force, yanking you from the VIP's lap. The VIP barked in protest, but it didn't matter. The sharpness of the grip made you gasp in pain, your breath caught in your throat as you were dragged across the room. The sudden motion left you dizzy, and for a moment, your legs struggled to keep up, stumbling as you fought to stay steady.

The force of the hand around your wrist was crushing, unrelenting, and you looked up—meeting the cold, piercing gaze of the captain. His mask bore no expression, but his silence was loud enough.

He gave a sharp order to the guard beside him, his voice low and commanding, “Monitor the game.”

The words sent a shudder through you, but you didn’t have time to process them.

You tried to pull away, to break free, but his grip only constricted. He was stronger, faster, his hold unshakable.

Every attempt to escape felt like an exercise in futility, and a sickening thought crept into your mind: this was it.

You weren’t the face on file for Guard 29. You weren’t supposed to be here. You were an imposter. The realization struck you like a punch to the gut, and a bitter taste flooded your mouth.

You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, but there was nothing you could do. Your commlink, hidden beneath your mask and tucked away in the other uniform, was useless now. You were trapped.

The hallway ahead was cold as he dragged you, the air viscous with the aroma of metal and the distant echoes of distant screams. The sharp sound of your tights ripping apart at the seams made you wince, the fabric tearing like a sickening reminder of your helplessness.

But still, you fought.

You kicked, thrashing against his grip, throwing punches with everything you had. The force of your blows landed against his body like hammer strikes against brick, but it was no use. The man’s hold didn’t loosen; he barely flinched, as if he’d endured much worse.

“Let go of me, you bastard!” you screamed, your voice ragged with frustration, fury, and terror. The words tasted bitter, but they were all you had left. You weren’t going to let him drag you to whatever fate awaited you in silence.

You weren’t going to die quietly. Not like this.

The sharp turn into the office space came so suddenly that it took your breath away. You barely had time to brace yourself before he shoved you forward. Your knees buckled as you hit the cold marble floor with a sickening thud, the impact leaving you winded and dazed. The sharp echo of the door slamming shut behind you sent a jolt of panic through your body, making you scramble to push yourself up, but before you could even fully react, his boots were already coming into view.

You barely had a moment to catch your breath as he raised his gun, stepping between your legs. The cold, menacing barrel of his gun was aimed directly at your head. The steely glint from his mask matched the deadly precision of his stance. "I've gotta say," he muttered, his voice low and mocking, "you're good. Posing as a guard, unnoticed, undetected." He leaned in, lowering himself to a crouch, his gaze never leaving you as if studying your every move, anticipating your next one.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you instinctively pulled back, trying to create distance, but his hand was quick, gripping your chin with a vice-like force. You gasped, feeling the sting of his fingers digging into your skin, and before you could think to resist, he jerked your head upward, forcing you to look at him. "Take off the mask," he ordered, his voice cold, without a hint of mercy.

Your body stiffened, refusing to comply. You shook your head, a flicker of defiance the only thing that kept you from completely losing yourself in the moment. But that flicker was quickly extinguished as he sneered under the disguise, tightening his grip on your chin. In one swift motion, he yanked the mask from your face, tearing it off with an aggression that made you yelp in surprise.

But, what you expected next… never came. The seconds stretched on, heavy and suffocating, as his looming figure remained just inches from your face. Your heart thudded erratically, and you could feel the pulse of it in your throat, your temples, as you stared up at his grey mask, the blank expression seeming to mock you with its indifference. Every part of you screamed for release, for the end to come—yet he lingered, cold and unmoving. You searched desperately for something to hold onto, anything that could make sense of this twisted moment.

Frustration began to burn deep in your chest. The silence stretched on, suffocating, like a weight pressing down on your lungs. Why was he doing this? It made your blood boil—this twisted game, this drawn-out moment where you could only wait. You wanted it over. You wanted him to pull the trigger, to end it so that Jun-ho could find you, could tear through this man and avenge your death with all the brutality you knew he was capable of.

And in a strange, twisted way, you were at peace with that.

To die for love, for the search, for In-ho.

But the silence dragged, leaving you trembling, caught between terror and resolve. You furrowed your brow in anger, the tension thickening with every beat of your heart. “Well?” Your voice was sharp, louder than before, filled with a raw desperation you couldn’t hide. “Pull the trigger!”

The words hung in the air, reverberating in the stillness. Everything felt like it was holding its breath. Even your own pulse seemed to echo in the silence. And then, just as you thought you might suffocate under the weight of it all, you heard it—the sound of his steady breathing, matching your own. Close. So close you could feel the warmth of it on your skin as it escaped from under the mask.

Then, with a movement so subtle it almost slipped past you, his gloved hand rose slowly, fingers brushing against your chest. The pressure was almost gentle at first, just above your breastbone, but the sensation was electric. It was like his fingers were pressing down on your heart itself, a cruel reminder of its erratic, chaotic rhythm. You sucked in a breath, caught somewhere between confusion and shock. You couldn't move, couldn't pull away, even as the unexpected intimacy of the gesture froze you in place.

His gaze followed the movement, dropping down to where his hand lay against you, as if studying the rapid beat of your heart. The sensation was so intimate, so stark against the brutality of the situation, that it sent a shiver racing through you. The closeness—the rawness—of it felt as suffocating as his presence, and for a split second, you wondered if he could feel your fear through the rapid thud of your pulse.

A long, agonizing minute passed, the tension hanging thick in the air, pressing against your chest until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. Without warning, he stepped back, breaking the heavy silence. His body straightened, the movement almost casual, as if the intensity of the moment had been nothing more than a fleeting amusement for him. He holstered his firearm with intentional slowness, the metal clinking as it slid into place, the sound almost mocking in the sudden quiet.

Then, without another word, he backed away, his steps echoing softly in the office space as he turned and made his way toward the door. Each step seemed to stretch out in time, the thudding of his boots on the marble floor a rhythmic reminder of how surreal this entire situation had been.

You remained frozen for a moment longer, your breath a shallow gasp in the stillness, your chest rising and falling in frantic succession. Your body, tense and shaking, finally released the breath you'd been holding in, the air filling your lungs in a rush of disbelief. What the hell just happened?

The question hovered in your mind, but it was tangled, incoherent, an unspeakable knot of confusion. Why had he—what made him do that? It was as if the whole encounter had just… slipped through your fingers, leaving nothing but the wreckage of unanswered questions in its wake.

You couldn’t make sense of it. You couldn’t even finish the thought before the weight of the moment came crashing back down on you. The fear, the confusion, the shock, all swirling in your chest like a storm. You had to get out.

With trembling hands, you pushed yourself up from the cold marble floor. Your legs were unsteady, as if the ground beneath you had suddenly become alien, but you fought to steady yourself. Your heels lay discarded at your feet, a reminder of how quickly everything had spiraled out of control. You grabbed them, the cold leather against your fingers grounding you slightly in the chaos of your mind. But even as you stood there, alone in the eerie silence of the office, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted—something had been left unsaid, unspoken.

And now you were left with nothing but the gnawing uncertainty, the unanswered questions clawing at your mind. Why had he stopped? What was he thinking? What had that... touch meant?

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

The scorching heat of the shower cascaded over your skin, melting away the tension that clung to your muscles like a second layer. Steam curled around you in thick, swirling tendrils, fogging the mirror and turning the bathroom into a hazy cocoon of warmth. You stood beneath the relentless stream, arms draped loosely around your neck, head tilted back, eyes shut. For a moment, you allowed yourself to exist in nothingness, your mind a void save for the questions you knew would never be answered.

You told yourself to let it go. To forget. You had been spared, and that alone should have been enough. Shouldn’t it? Yet, no matter how many times you repeated it, the unease sat heavy in your chest. The doubt, the uncertainty—it festered.

With slow, deliberate movements, you ran your fingers over your body, ridding yourself of the soap that clung stubbornly to your skin. The water slithered down your form in shimmering rivulets, vanishing into the drain along with any lingering warmth. Reluctantly, you reached for the robe hanging on the wall, wrapping yourself in its plush fabric as you stepped onto the cool tile.

Your new quarters were a stark contrast to what you had grown accustomed to—spacious, luxurious, tailored to your liking. A bed large enough to swallow you whole. Soft lighting that bathed the room in an inviting glow. It was comfortable. Too comfortable. A gilded cage, perhaps, but a cage nonetheless.

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your damp hair. And then, as if summoned by your unease, your thoughts drifted to Jun-ho. What had he been doing? Where had his relentless pursuit led him?

Slipping into fresh underwear and a loose shirt, you moved with a quiet, mechanical precision, your mind elsewhere—trapped in the fragments of a moment that refused to fade. You sank onto the edge of the bed, your gaze fixed on the floor, but you weren’t really seeing it.

The memory pulled at you, insistent and unrelenting. You turned it over in your mind, again and again, dissecting every second, every detail—the way the air had smelled, the way your skin had prickled, the weight of something unspoken pressing down on you.

Your fingers twitched at your sides before moving of their own accord, palm drifting toward your chest, mimicking the movement you had witnessed. The touch was slow, deliberate, tracing the same pattern, the same pressure. A shiver rippled through you.

It felt familiar.

Your breath hitched.

Familiar... similar.

Your heart lurched, your fingers momentarily stilling against your skin as a strange, creeping sensation unfurled in the back of your mind. You hadn’t noticed it before—not in the heat of the moment, not when you were too caught up in surviving. But now, in the stillness of your room, away from the chaos, it clicked.

The way he moved. The way his fingers had pressed. The rhythm. The intent.

Recognition clawed at you, a whisper of something just beyond reach.

And then—like a sudden snap of a thread—realization struck.

It wasn’t just familiar.

It was something you had known before..someone you had loved before and love now.

Your head snapped up. A sharp inhale caught in your throat.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, barely able to hear your own voice over the sudden, deafening pounding of your heart.

It had been In-ho—right there in front of you.

A violent shudder ripped through your body as the realization settled, your limbs moving before you could think. You lunged from the bed, nearly stumbling in your haste, hands trembling as you threw open the closet. Your old uniform hung there, untouched, yet heavy with memories. You tore it aside, fingers finding the cool metal of your comm link.

Fumbling, you pressed the button. "Jun-ho? Jun-ho," you called, breathless.

Static. A moment of silence that stretched unbearably before—

"I'm in a fix here, y/n, make it—make it quick."

His voice was strained, fractured between labored breaths. In the background, the sharp crunch of boots against gravel, the distant clatter of shifting debris. He was moving. Running.

Dread seeped into your bones like ice water.

He’d been caught.

But there was no time for that now. No time to process the cold grip of fear tightening in your chest. He needed to know.

"The captain." Your throat tightened, but you forced the words out. "It’s In-ho."

Silence.

A long, chilling silence.

Then—his breath hitched, just barely audible over the crackling static. "Are you certain?"

You clenched your jaw, fingers curling into a fist at your side. You had never been more certain of anything in your life.

"I know it’s him."

The comm-link crackled again, his hurried footsteps echoing through the line. Then, at last, he spoke, his voice low and laced with something between bitter understanding and horror.

"Good to know," he panted. "’Cause that’s who I’m running from."

A pause.

"My own brother."

The words hit you like a blow to the chest.

"What will he do?" you asked, voice tight, barely above a whisper.

Jun-ho’s breath was ragged through the comm, his footsteps uneven as he moved. “My brother wouldn’t kill me—wound me, maybe, for interfering, but he’d give me a choice.”

You swallowed hard, pacing across your room in frantic strides, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. Your mind raced, grasping at possibilities, at outcomes that felt just out of reach.

He kept talking, his words clipped, focused. “I gathered evidence. Enough to damn this place.”

Your breath hitched. That was more than you expected. More than you dared to hope for. “What do you plan to do?”

“If I can, send it to the chief,” he said. “But depending on how this goes, I’m at a loss.”

You stopped pacing, lowering yourself onto the edge of the bed, gripping your knees. The weight of the situation pressed down on you like an iron vice.

"If I'm out…" He hesitated as if forcing himself to speak the words that felt like an admission of something too final. "You’ll have to do this on your own."

You understood.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “I know. Just… be careful.”

The moment stretched, taut, and suffocating.

Then—shouting.

Distant, at first. Then louder. Urgent.

Jun-ho sucked in a sharp breath, and the line cut to static.

Silence.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

By the time the next day arrived, you still hadn’t heard from Jun-ho. The silence should have been suffocating, but deep down, something told you he was okay. You held onto that instinct, clinging to it like a lifeline.

You stood beside one of the other servants, a woman taller than you, her posture rigid, almost militant. She barely blinked, her gaze fixed ahead as the VIPs began filing into the lavish hall, their presence thick with arrogance and indulgence. The air was laced with the scent of expensive cigars, aged whiskey, and the faintest trace of sweat beneath perfume.

The commanding officer barked his order, and without hesitation, you moved. A decanter balanced on your tray, the liquid sloshing gently as you navigated the room, pouring drinks with quiet precision. You slipped between the gilded chairs and velvet-draped lounges, your movements careful, practiced, invisible.

And then—you froze.

At the top of the grand staircase, In-ho stood, his presence an unshakable force in the room. His gaze locked onto yours, dark and unreadable beneath the polished mask. For a moment, time seemed to stretch, a silent pull between you two that no one else in the room could feel.

Then he moved.

He descended the stairs with the kind of effortless grace that sent unease curling in your stomach—not because you were afraid. No, not this time. This time, you were ready.

You forced yourself to breathe, finishing the pour of whiskey for the VIP in front of you with a steady hand before feeling the undeniable pull—In-ho’s silent command as he brushed past, his presence dragging you in his wake.

Without hesitation, you followed.

His strides were long, purposeful, but you matched them with ease, moving step for step beside him as the two of you slipped into a familiar office space. The heavy door shut behind you, muffling the sounds of indulgence and excess from the other room.

Silence settled between you.

You stood in front of him, your heart hammering against your ribs—not with fear, but with something else, something deeper. Slowly, instinctively, you reached for your mask, fingers brushing against the metal clips. Your fingers unclipped it, the cool press of it lifting from your skin as you pulled it away, revealing the face he had once known so well.

You let the silence stretch as you slowly took in your surroundings. The office was just as you remembered—dimly lit, with sleek, modern furniture that seemed almost too polished, too calculated. The faint scent of leather and aged wood lingered in the air, mingling with the ever-present sterility of power.

Your eyes landed on a bottle of tequila sitting on a side table, short empty glasses arranged beside it, as if someone had abandoned a half-formed thought. Without a word, you wandered toward it, perhaps to keep your distance, to keep from overwhelming him. The soft rustle of your clothes was the only sound breaking the quiet.

Lifting the bottle, you poured yourself a drink, the clear liquid swirling in the glass. You weren’t thirsty. Not really. But you needed something to do with your hands, something to tether you to the moment before it swallowed you whole.

You refused to let emotion surface, refused to let him see the way your chest ached with longing, the way the sight of him after all this time sent a ripple through the carefully constructed walls you had built around yourself. He wouldn’t see it.

But you knew—deep down, you knew.

Despite the unreadable mask he was wearing, his chest was tightening. His breath had caught, just for a second. He was in disbelief.

Spinning on your heel, you leaned back against the counter, the cool surface pressing against your spine as you raised the glass to your lips. The burn of tequila trailed down your throat, sharp and grounding.

Your gaze found his, unwavering.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” you murmured, voice even.

He exhaled slowly, a sound barely audible, yet heavy with something unspoken.

“It feels like I have,” he admitted, his voice lower than you remembered, rough around the edges as if it had been worn down over time.

Your fingers tightened around the glass.

You pursed your lips, steadying yourself. “After you disappeared, I was lined up with a donor.” Your voice was quieter now, the weight of those words pressing against your ribs. “Received a new liver a few days later.”

Almost instinctively, your hand drifted to your side, fingers brushing absentmindedly over the spot where the scar rested beneath your shirt. The memory of it—of pain, of survival—flashed through you like a distant echo.

But In-ho didn’t move.

His mask remained fixed on you from across the room, cold and impassive, an unbreakable wall between you. You searched for something—anything—beneath it. A flicker of recognition. A hint of emotion. Some sign that he wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted to appear. But he gave you nothing. Just silence.

The lump in your throat tightened. You set the glass down, the quiet clink against the counter sounding impossibly loud.

“…Can I see your face?”

The words left you softer than you intended. A plea, despite yourself.

Three years.

Did he even look the same?

Had time been kind to him, or had it taken its toll?

For a moment, he didn’t respond. The space between you felt impossibly vast despite the room being small. Then, slowly—so slowly—you saw the slightest shift in his stance, something unreadable pressing at the edges of his silence.

Then, without a word, his gloved fingers rose to the mask.

A sharp click echoed in the room as he unlatched the clasps.

Your breath caught.

Slowly, he lifted it away, revealing the face you hadn’t seen in three years.

Time had changed him.

His sharp features were the same, but there was a hollowness to them now—a weight that hadn’t been there before. Faint lines traced his forehead, shadows lingering beneath his eyes. His gaze, dark and piercing, met yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

But the thing that hit you hardest—he looked tired.

More than tired. Worn. As if he had been carrying something heavy for far too long.

You swallowed hard, unsure what to say. You had pictured this moment a hundred times, imagined what you might feel—but none of it compared to the reality of seeing him now.

His lips parted, but no words came. He just looked at you, his throat bobbing with a swallow.

“…You’re really here,” he finally murmured, almost as if he didn’t believe it himself.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I am.”

His eyes flickered down—to where your hand rested over your scar. Something passed through his expression, too quick to catch, but you saw it. A flash of guilt. Of something deeper.

Then, just as quickly, he forced it away. His mask may have been off, but the walls he had built? Those were still standing.

You exhaled, shaking your head slightly. “You don’t have to act like this doesn’t affect you, In-ho.”

“It doesn’t change anything,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

You tilted your head, studying him. “Doesn’t it?”

His silence was answer enough.

You pushed off the counter, stepping toward him with measured strides. "Where's your brother?"

His gaze flickered for a moment before settling back on you. "On his way back to the mainland."

You hummed, absorbing the information.

"It was his idea you know," you admitted, shifting your weight. "To come and find you. I wasn’t going to, but—"

His expression remained unreadable, his eyes dark and steady. "Why?"

You hesitated, fingers curling against your arms as you crossed them over your chest.

"Because I was afraid," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of your resentment." The words carried a weight that pressed against your ribs, threatening to crush the breath from your lungs.

You kept your gaze low, the weight of your emotions pressing against your chest, threatening to spill over. A tear welled in the corner of your eye, but before it could fall, you felt a hand brush against your shoulder, its warmth dragging slowly up to the back of your neck. You looked up to find In-ho standing in front of you, his face a mask of control—until his eyes met yours. For the first time, you saw something flicker there, a crack in the wall he’d built.

"What I did... wasn't your fault," he murmured, his voice softer than you'd expected. The words hung in the air between you, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself.

You took a tentative step closer, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. The sting of the tear that finally escaped your eye didn’t matter—nothing mattered as much as his presence, the sincerity in his touch. You felt the warmth of his hand cupping the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tear as his other hand settled on your waist. His fingers tightened, a silent plea for you to stay close, to listen.

"I've loved you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "still, as much as I did the day I left. As much as I did when you were on your deathbed."

His throat bobbed with the effort of holding back more, and you could feel the weight of his words pressing against your own heart. His forehead gently met yours, the contact sending a shiver through your body as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, as if trying to breathe you in.

"But, you need to go back home," he said quietly, but there was an undeniable ache in his voice, a pleading note that left you breathless.

You pulled back, your heart pounding in your chest as you took a step away, eyes searching his. "Not without you," you said, your voice steady despite the storm inside.

In-ho’s eyes flickered, a flicker of something hardening in them as he shook his head. "I need to finish my job here," he replied, his tone final, almost resigned.

You furrowed your brow, confusion creeping in. "Your illegal job, you mean?" The words tasted bitter on your tongue, but you couldn’t hold back. You had to understand.

He shook his head again, more forcefully this time, before reaching into his pocket. His hand moved with purpose, his fingers brushing against the edge of something—then he pulled out a small badge, its gleam catching the dim light. The police badge. Your eyes widened in shock. "You... you’ve been undercover?" The words barely escaped you, a whisper of disbelief, but the weight of the truth sank in as the badge glinted in your eyes.

Without a word, In-ho pushed it back into his pocket, as though the revelation was nothing more than a passing detail. "The games are finished after today," he said quietly, his voice a mix of relief and resolve. He stepped away from you, the movement stiff, purposeful. His fingers wrapped around the mask he had worn so often, but now, as he picked it up, it seemed like a symbol of everything he had been hiding.

"Once I'm done, I’ll come and find you," he added, but his words, though laced with promise, didn’t ease the ache in your chest. You bit your lip, uncertainty gnawing at you, keeping you rooted to the spot. "How can I be sure?"

He paused, the question hanging in the air between you. His gaze softened as he looked at you, raw emotion slipping through the cracks of his composed exterior. "Because," he whispered, stepping closer, his voice a quiet confession, "I just found out the woman that I love is still breathing. And here, standing in front of me." His words hung in the air. Before you could react, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, and pressed the softest kiss to your lips. It was a kiss you had dreamed of for three long years—a kiss that seemed to erase every doubt, every moment of longing that had consumed you. It was gentle, tender, as if he was afraid to break something fragile.

When he pulled back, his eyes held yours for a heartbeat longer, as if he needed to make sure you were real, that the moment wasn’t just a dream. He reached up, his fingers brushing against his face, clipping the mask back on with a quiet finality.

Then, without another word, he grabbed your mask—his movements quick but deliberate.

"I’ll see you again, y/n," he promised, his voice low, but resolute.

And just like that, he was out the door.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

It had been three months. Three peaceful, tranquil months that felt like a dream, the kind you weren’t sure you’d ever wake from. The sun hung high in the sky, its warmth spilling across the water, making the world glow in a golden haze. The sky above you stretched wide, impossibly blue—bluer than it had ever been in your memory. You sat on the edge of the weathered wooden dock, your legs dangling freely, toes just skimming the surface of the water with each gentle ripple. The coolness of the water kissed your skin, a quiet reminder that you were truly here, truly present.

Beside you, In-ho sat, his gaze lost in the horizon, his profile framed by the light of the sun. He looked calm, peaceful even—so unlike the man you had once known. The man who had been lost in the shadows, in the chaos of things he couldn’t talk about. And yet, here he was, beside you, in this moment that felt like it could stretch on forever.

You should have been looking at the view, taking in the beauty of the world around you, but you couldn't. Not when he was sitting so close, not when every breath he took was like a promise that this time, he wouldn't disappear.

Your eyes remained locked on him, tracing the familiar lines of his face, the gentle curve of his jaw, the way his hair ruffled in the breeze. You held his arm firm, your grip strong as if you were afraid he might float away, as if this—this peaceful, perfect moment—was nothing more than a fleeting dream.

But it wasn’t a dream. It was real. You reminded yourself over and over, the mantra repeating in your mind like a lifeline.

Real.

Real.

Real.