#kdrama fanfictions
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laurenluvss · 1 month ago
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i need her so bad 🙏😩
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thesquidgame · 27 days ago
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Calm Before the Storm
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Hwang Jun-ho x wife!reader
Summary: After your husband's disappearance, he starts to act different.
Warning: Angst, disappearance, gunshot wound, head injury, hospitals, mention of death, marital conflict, mention of divorce, guns
6k words
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The worst day of your life happened after one of your husband’s work trips. He said that his team had gotten a lead on what might have happened to his brother and that he had to investigate. That was par for the course, every couple months there would be another potential lead on where your brother-in-law could be, but every couple months Jun-ho would be sorely disappointed. 
This time was different. He said he would be gone for a couple of days, and that he didn’t know if he would be able to get in contact. He left for one day, and then two, then more. His department panicked, apparently, it wasn’t a work trip and one of their detectives went missing. After a week his picture was on the nightly news, and after 10 days you were doing interviews begging for anyone who had any information to step forward. His mother came to sleep at your apartment, and she said she just wanted to help out with her daughter-in-law, but you could hear her sobs in the middle of the night through the thin walls between your bedroom and the guest room. 
At 5 AM, a week after Jun-ho’s disappearance, you got a call. They had found him. He was in a specialized emergency hospital on the outskirts of Seoul, and he was in a coma. You rushed to your car with your mother-in-law and broke speed limits that Jun-ho would never let you break when he was in the car with you. 
The hospital parking lot was nearly empty. The lobby was quiet when you walked in, and the front desk woman almost looked shocked when she saw two women with deep circles under their eyes and hair sticking in every direction. Honestly, you couldn’t care less. She was the receptionist at a hospital, if that was the craziest thing she’d seen she was in for a rude awakening when an actual patient came up to her desk.
She quickly directed you to his hotel room, on the 3rd floor, where his supervisor was already waiting. Time seemed to slow down as you rode the elevator. It couldn’t have taken longer than 20 seconds, but it felt like years. What if he was dying? What if he didn’t wake up? What if he was getting worse? Your thoughts kept racing, and you and Jun-ho’s mother couldn’t share a single word between the two of you between all of the panic going on inside your heads.
The floor was so quiet you could hear the squeak of a nurse’s shoes down the hallway. You should’ve run to your husband's bedside, but you couldn’t. You took one step at a time, terrified of what might await you. His supervisor stepped out the door and closed it. He looked at you with tired eyes. “Mrs. Hwang, Mrs. Park, I’m glad you could make it.”
“How’s my husband?” Formalities could wait. Formalities could go to hell.
He sighed, and your heart skipped several beats. “How is he?!” Jun-ho’s mother yelled. 
“He’s okay, he seems to be mostly stable, but I-” He raised his hand and scratched the back of his head, looking away at the ground, “I gotta be honest. He’s not great. He was shot and fell from a high distance into water. He passed out in the water and the doctors think he breathed in water and fell unconscious. They’re not sure of the extent of brain damage because he hasn’t woken up, but the lack of oxygen to his brain likely caused some sort of impact. There’s more, but they would only tell me the basics because I’m not family.”
You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. What if he didn’t wake up? What if he did and he wasn’t the same? Memories of the last night you spent together raced through your head. It had been a long exhausting day, and he somehow knew how terrible it had been. He brought takeout home and made an extra stop to get your favorite dessert from a bakery. He set the food down on the kitchen table and immediately made his way to you on the couch, leaned down, and kissed you until you needed to come up for air. You turned off the tv and sat on the couch for hours, eating and talking and eventually fucking. Right before you went to bed he told you that he was going on the trip tomorrow, and you just smiled and nodded, thinking it was going to be like all the other times.
You pushed past the sergeant and walked into your husband’s room. His bed was separated from an empty one by a curtain. You couldn’t feel your own feet as you walked towards it, and it almost felt like your hand wasn’t moving at all when you pushed past the curtain.
Jun-ho looked like death. There was a tube shoved in his throat and his skin was so pale it looked translucent, the blue of his veins showing through on his arm next to an IV. The circles under his eyes were deep and dark, and he was in a neck brace, with his head bandaged. 
It felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. The second his mother saw him, she collapsed at his side and laid her body over his legs. Her cries were guttural and came from something that must’ve broken inside of her. “My baby, my baby. I lost one son, I’ll die if I lose another.”
You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t cry. You sunk to a chair at his side and reached out for his hand. He was so cold. His skin felt like he had just been taken out of the ocean minutes before, and his heart rate was so slow it felt like it was second between beats.
You didn’t hear the doctor come into the room until he spoke. Jun-ho’s mother looked up and stared at him like he was an angel, but you couldn’t look away from your husband’s unmoving body.
“Mrs. Hwang, can I talk to you about your husband’s condition?” You didn’t move, his mother had to beg the doctor to continue speaking. “He was shot in his left shoulder, luckily the bullet didn’t hit any vital organs, but because of the time between the injury and his arrival at the hospital, he lost a significant amount of blood. We think he hit the water head-first, and the impact caused his neck to break, luckily, there was no spinal cord damage. We induced him into a coma once he reached the hospital, so unfortunately we aren’t able to tell the extent of the damage unless he wakes.”
Your mother and law stood up “Unless? What do you mean by unless?!” she screamed. “My son is not going to die, do you hear me?!” 
You felt broken, Jun-ho had to wake up, he had to. You didn’t care if he couldn’t walk, or speak, but he had to wake up.
You could hear fists banging against the doctor’s chest, but you didn’t turn around. Just kept staring at your husband’s pale face, and pale hands.
The hospital had apparently received a large grant during COVID to expand, and when the pandemic had died down they became designated only for acute emergency cases and recovery care, and many rooms were kept vacant. The staff let you stay in the other bed in his room, and there was a shower attached to the room, designed for patients in long-term recovery and their family members. The hospital had a small cafeteria that made shockingly delicious Korean food, and they delivered the meals to the room three times a day. Before long, you became used to the tired routine of late-night check-ups and tired smiles from the nurses urging you to go home and rest. You were terrified that if you left the hospital Jun-ho would die before you could get back, but you couldn’t tell the nurses that. You just told the nurses that your house was far away and it was more convenient to stay at the hospital as opposed to making the commute or getting a hotel room.
It was three weeks before Jun-ho moved. In that time, you hadn’t left the hospital once. He squeezed your hand while you were holding it, and at first, you thought you imagined it. You called the doctor, and she said she would keep an eye on it, but not to get your hopes up- apparently twitching was normal in coma patients. Several hours later you felt the squeeze again, and when you looked up, you saw Jun-ho’s eyes open the slightest bit. 
It was like a month’s worth of fear and pain cascaded over in a heartbeat, and you collapsed on his chest in broken sobs, staring up at your husband. His mother was there, and she leaned over at him, pleading his name. He stared at you for as long as he could, until his eyes closed again, his eyelids twitching like he wanted them to stay open. Once his eyes closed your hand was still holding his in a tight grip, and you reached open to press the button again.
In the next couple of days, he went in and out of consciousness at increasing intervals. The first moment where you felt like you could breathe again came a week after he first squeezed your hand, when you awoke from sleeping laying on his lap while you sat in the chair to the sound of gagging. You heard his heartbeat increase and saw his throat convulse and his eyes flash open as he fought his breathing tube. 
You immediately pressed the call button for the nurse, and when they took too long you went out into the hallway and screamed for a nurse. There were only a couple of patients on his hall, and they could go screw themselves if they thought their sleep was more important than your husband's choking. The nurse and doctor came running and closed the door on you. Within a couple of minutes the nurse opened the door, and let you step inside. The doctor tried to talk to you, but you couldn’t hear anything she was saying as you walked past her toward your husband’s side.
“Baby,” Jun-ho whispered. His voice was hoarse and broken, and you could feel tears streaming down your face.
“Honey, you’re- you’re here.” You cried more and more, and he painfully reached his arm up to you.
“It’s okay (y/n), I was never going anywhere, I’m here.” You tucked your head into his neck and sobbed into his hospital gown. 
He stroked your hair slowly until his hand rested on the back of your head. You looked up to see that he had fallen back asleep, exhausted from the ordeal of choking on his breathing tube. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wet from a single tear rolling down his face, and tucked your head back down to fall asleep again.
You woke up to a nurse gently shaking you away, informing you that you had to sleep in the other bed to prevent infection. You wanted to fight her for doing her job, but obliged. You fell back asleep quickly, too tired to stay awake because of the crying you had just finished doing.
“(Y/n).” You awoke to a quiet voice, blinking your eyes because of the bright sunlight streaming through the window. You immediately looked over at Jun-ho to see your fiance with his head turned looking at you.
“Jun-ho.” You stood up, stumbling out of bed in the clothes you had to have been wearing for at least a couple of days before now, and went over to kiss him on the lips, the same way he had the last time you had seen him before he went missing. He reciprocated with more force than you thought someone who hadn’t moved any part of his body in a month could.
“I missed you so much honey, I couldn’t breathe for so long.” He smiled and wiped a tear off of your face. 
“I know baby, but I’m here now, I’m here.” He looked at you with so much love and life in his eyes, exactly what you had been missing for the past month.
“I was so scared Jun-ho, first I couldn’t find you, and then once I did I- I wasn’t sure.” You paused, another tear streaming down your face. “I wasn’t sure you would make it.” You whispered.
“I know (y/n), and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“You- you got shot. You fell from really high into the water far out in the ocean. You have no idea how scared I was.”
His brow furrowed painfully before he suddenly pulled his head back and winced. “Jun-ho, Jun-ho? Are you okay?!”
You frantically pushed the call button and within seconds there was a team of doctors and nurses entering the room. They slowed slightly when they saw the scene in front of them, and quickly determined there was no immediate danger, and quickly began examining him and asking you both questions. Once the rest of the group left, Jun-ho’s main doctor sat in a chair to explain the situation to the both of you.
She explained what the team had seen when they had checked Jun-ho over, and explained the need for another set of scans to ensure there was no serious brain injury. “We also will need to call the police back to the hospital, because of the gunshot wound.”
Jun-ho froze, and his back grew stiff. “Baby, what’s wrong?” You rested your hand in his grip, tightening it around his.
“Nothing’s wrong, just nervous about the tests.” He squeezed your hand back and smiled up at you at your position sitting next to him on the bed. His body remained stiff, and your brow furrowed in confusion. He was likely traumatized and in pain, both physically and mentally.
Once the doctor left, you apprehensively asked him “Honey, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but… What happened when you were gone, with the fall, and the gunshot wound?”
He looked away from you and glanced out the window. He paused, “I don’t know. I don’t remember what happened.”
You leaned in and squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay if you do, I just want to help you.”
He remained looking out the window, until he looked back at you, something tight across his eyes. “I really don’t know, can we please talk about something else. I’m going to get enough of that from my coworkers later anyways.” He laughed, but the tightness across his face remained the same.
Smiling a similar tight smile, you squeezed his hand back. “Okay. Just, let me know if you remember anything.”
“Now, is there anything I can do to help you?” 
“Jun-ho, I’m not the one who just woke up from a coma, that’s my line!” Jun-ho smiled a real smile, and you copied him, smiling your first genuine smile in weeks.
After the tests, you wheeled Jun-ho in a wheelchair back into his hospital room, where you were greeted by his boss sitting in your usual chair next to his bedside. He stood up to greet you, “Detective! It’s so good to see you awake again!” He bowed to Jun-ho, and your husband nodded his head in return.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you think we could do the interview now? Just so we don’t get more in the way of you and your lovely wife.” He smiled, but there was anxiety furrowing his brow. He was clearly using many tactics that you watched Jun-ho explain that the police force used on victims and their families.
Jun-ho smiled back, “of course.” He looked up at you and smiled a similar tight smile towards you. “Honey, do you think you could go and get some coffee from downstairs for us?” 
You nodded, unsure of what to do as you could clearly tell that the coffee run was just an excuse to get you out of the room. “Of course.” There wasn’t anything you could do about it, and confronting your husband about something he is clearly not ready to talk about would certainly not be a solution. “Officer, would you like me to get you anything?”
He waved you off and you hesitantly exited the room to go downstairs.
Due to the emptiness of the hospital, it didn’t take you long to go down to the cafeteria, pick up some coffee for you and Jun-ho, and come back upstairs. When you reached the floor that the room was on, you hesitated, noticing that the door was cracked and the sounds of him and his boss were still quietly filtering out into the hallway.
You debated for a second staying and eavesdropping, but your moral compass won out in the end. Whatever it was, Jun-ho was clearly not ready to tell you. You didn’t want to betray his trust, and eventually, he would share it with you. The two of you had no secrets between you. If there ever was a night when Jun-ho would have to stay later at work, or was suddenly asked to hang out by his friends, he would call you immediately and tell you what was going on and when he would probably be home. Not that you necessarily needed him to, you trusted him, but he insisted that he never wanted you to worry after him. You did the same in turn, even though your job was far less demanding than his and plans came up far less sporadically for you than they did for him.
As you walked away, you heard a sliver of the conversation “hundreds… shot.” It made you pause in your step. You must’ve misheard. Maybe he had said something else. Maybe you were too sleep-deprived and stressed to think clearly. Still, you turned those words around in your head as you sat in a chair in the hallway next to the nurse’s station.
If you hadn’t misheard- if; what would it mean? Did Jun-ho have a brain injury that didn’t turn up on scans that makes him misremember what happened? Or- or was he telling the truth? Your husband wasn’t a liar, he was the perfect detective because of his strict moral compass, so that must mean… That must mean that if there was no brain injury, and if you didn’t mishear, wherever Jun-ho was he had watched hundreds of people die.
You heard a knock on the doorframe, “Mrs. Hwang, we’re done with the interview.” 
You stood up and walked toward the door when the other detective put his hand on your shoulder while his face grimaced. “I hope everything works out well for the two of you, I really do.” With that foreboding line of encouragement, he walked past you and towards the elevator.
When you entered the room, Jun-ho smiled at you. “(Y/n).” You walked towards him and kissed his forehead, handing him the cup of coffee.
Kissing his forehead, you asked, “How did it go? Are you alright?”
Jun-ho’s brow creased, but he smiled back at you still. “It went well, I just told him that I didn’t know anything.”
That didn’t make sense. You had to have been gone for at least 20 minutes, there was no way those 15 minutes were filled with the other detective asking questions that your husband kept saying no to.
“I’ll have to go into the station later on after I’m discharged and give a longer more formal statement, but for now they’ll leave us alone.”
“Great, I’m glad to have you all to myself.” You leaned over and kissed him on the lips again. You trusted him, and whatever it was that he wasn’t telling you, he would open up about soon. 
He didn’t. After another 2 weeks, the hospital was completely sure there were no long-standing effects. Besides having to regularly come in for check-ups and to carefully not hurt the shoulder where he was shot, miraculously there were no other serious effects.
You had finally gone back into the apartment after he woke up, although you weren’t happy about going back when it was lifeless due to Jun-ho’s absence. By the time he was discharged, the apartment was dust-free, and you made sure that everything was the same as it had been when he had first gone missing.
In the past couple of weeks, Jun-ho had been too calm. He was casual about just about everything. He was smiling, and making jokes, like nothing had ever happened. But, underneath it all, you could tell something was different. When you’ve been with someone for so long, had exchanged wedding vows, and slept in the same bed for years, you just knew them. You knew your husband, and something was off about him. He refused to go to sleep in the hospital room with the door open, and every time you came or went he would make you close the door behind you. He insisted that you spent the night in the hotel room with him (not that you were complaining) even when he was far out of the danger zone. On the car ride home from the hospital he would check the mirrors every time he thought you weren’t looking.
There was something completely off about him, he seemed paranoid, and for the first time in your relationship besides his brother’s disappearance- scared. But every time you would ask him what was wrong, he would just smile and say “I’m alright, just adjusting.”
You carried all of your stuff to the apartment, insisting on doing so even though your stubborn husband wanted to carry luggage even with a bullet recently being removed from his shoulder. But, when you left the elevator and were about to go into the apartment, he stopped you by putting his hand out.
“Baby, I just want to get inside. This is heavy.” You complained.
“I know, just- just give me a minute. I want to check something.” He silently turned the key to your small apartment, took off both his shoes, and stepped inside. He pulled up his pant leg slightly and took out a gun that you didn’t even notice was there.
“Jun-ho!”
He turned back to you and put his finger to his lips, shushing you. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He closed the door behind him, and you stood there shocked. You knew something was wrong, but you didn’t expect him to take out a gun and search your home.
In a couple of minutes, he came back out. “What the hell Jun-ho? What was that!” 
“It was nothing, I’m sorry.” He put the gun back away.
“Why would you search our house? You’ve never done that before. Seriously Jun-ho, what’s going on?” You shouted, exasperated by him saying one thing and acting in a completely opposite way.
“It’s nothing.” He sighed, “I’m sorry (y/n), I’m just scared. It’s been a while since I’ve been out of the hospital, so I’m nervous.” He leaned in and gave you a hug, which you reciprocated. But still, that wasn’t the whole truth.
“I think you should see someone Jun-ho, this isn’t normal.” You said into your husband’s chest.
“(Y/n), I’m fine. I promise.” You leaned your head up and kissed him again.
The first week back was difficult. Jun-ho seemed terrified of just about everything around him. The both of you barely left the house, and when you did his hand held yours in a tight grip.
Your job had given you an extended leave to take care of Jun-ho, but your leave was ending in a few weeks once the two-month mark passed. 
You were laying in bed one night, Jun-ho tracing circles on your shoulder as you spooned after making love. “Jun-ho, I’m worried about you.”
He kissed your shoulder, “what about?” He said casually.
You rolled over to face him. “About everything, you’ve been so scared and stressed. I don’t know what’s going to happen once I go back to work.” 
He propped his head on his hand as he laid on his side, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m starting to feel better. I’m sorry I’ve been so paranoid lately.”
You sighed, “I want you to see someone Jun-ho. I don’t want this to fester and fester.”
He sighed, “I know (y/n), I promise it’ll get better soon. I talked to the chief today, I’ll go back to work next week.”
You shot up in bed, “two weeks? Babe, that isn’t nearly enough time. You still can’t lift anything heavier than a paper clip with your left arm.”
Jun-ho reached back towards you and stroked your arm. “Well good thing I’m right-handed.” He smirked.
Tilting your head, you just looked back at your husband anxiously. “Jun-ho this is serious. You aren’t ready to go back to work.”
“(Y/n), please trust me. This will all be over soon, okay?” He looked at you pleadingly. He didn’t want you to drop it or ignore it, he wanted you to- trust him? There was a secret, but he clearly didn’t want you to know it, and just to wait.
Sighing, you said, “Okay, I’ll wait.” You didn’t know what else to say. You couldn’t make him tell you the truth, and he wanted you to not push it. There was nothing to do. “But I really want you to talk to someone.”
He leaned in to kiss you, and right before he touched your lips, he said “Okay, I will; for you.” Then he closed the distance and kissed you until you needed to come up for air.
Your house was quieter after you both went back to work. When Jun-ho came home from work he would make his way next to you on the couch, lay down, and put his head on your lap. It was nice at first, after so much stress you could simply relax and enjoy each other's company.
Soon after getting home, he would get tired. Sometimes falling asleep on your lap.
After a month of him getting back to work, you were exhausted from the silence. It became oppressive. You grew tired of the same routine, and how your husband never quite grew less paranoid. He became better at hiding it, attaching cameras and extra locks around your house under the guise of burglaries in the building that you had never heard of. He would stand up from his crouch install the locks and wrap his arms around you, kissing you and telling you that he just wanted you to be safe.
Before his accident, he would wake up every morning and make breakfast for the both of you, insisting that it was the most important meal of the day. After the accident, he started to make lunch as well, and whenever you suggested that you go out for dinner, he smiled and told you that he enjoyed your cooking so much more.
Then, after 3 months, he came home completely exhausted. It was later than usual, and you stayed up late to greet him, completely concerned by his lack of response to any of your texts. “Jun-ho, where the hell were you? Are you okay?!” You ran up to him as soon as he opened the door, looking him up and down for any injuries.
“No, I’m fine.” He smiled a lopsided and insincere smile at you. He smelled like alcohol.
“Were you drinking?” You demanded.
“Me and my coworkers went out for a couple of bottles of soju after work, nothing much.” He shook off his shoes and went to hug you.
You pulled away, “why didn’t you tell me? We always tell each other these things.” 
“Baby, I had a long, long day, let’s not do this right now.”
“No, we have to do this right now, what happened? You’ve been so strange lately, and you never went to talk to someone like you said you would.” You paused, tears beginning to well up in your eyes, “I’m really concerned for you. I want you to get tested for PTSD.”
He stepped closer to you, “I don’t have PTSD, I just had a long day.” You didn’t move. He sighed, “(Y/n), please, I’m exhausted. Can we do this tomorrow?”
You didn’t say anything but didn’t move when he closed the distance between you to pull you into a tight hug. You finally reciprocated, pulling him closer, when you heard silent sniffling from next to your ear. In a heartbeat, you felt a drop of wetness on your shoulder. 
The next day, Jun-ho quit being a detective. After he started crying, he pretended like nothing had happened, got silent, and took a shower before going to bed. You barely spoke another word the rest of the night, but after he thought you went to sleep you could feel him trace circles on your shoulder.
He told you as soon as he got home that being a detective was too much work for him after the accident, and he tired more easily, but you didn’t buy it for a second.
“Jun-ho, you love your job, why would you quit? Do you want to go back on leave?” You pleaded at your husband.
He smiled back at you, “Of course I love my job, it’s only temporary.” And he leaned in to kiss you on the lips.
Temporary. Although your better judgment told you otherwise, you put all your faith in that one little word. Temporary, this, like everything else making your husband act so different, would pass.
Jun-ho came home late the next day. Then the next. The first you waited up for him, sitting at the dinner table, your food growing cold. When your husband came in, he didn’t smell like alcohol, he simply kissed you on the forehead and sat down across from you, not confronting his tardiness. You cried yourself to sleep that night, with your husband laying stiff as a board next to you, unsure of what to do.
The next night, when he was late, you didn’t bother to wake up. You left his food in the fridge and went to bed early, tears streaming down your face. You were still awake when he came into bed but pretended to be asleep. You could feel the bed shaking from his silent sobs.
The next month went on in the same way, with the only escape from the monotony of your miserable silence being Jun-ho’s one day off. On that one day, you would pretend that you didn’t have any problems, that you were a normal couple who would go walking through the cherry trees and go out drinking together late at night. You went on a double date with one of your coworkers and her husband and sat awkwardly through one of their arguments. It wasn’t the same, but having some bit of refuge away from your stress was a lifesaver.
But even that changed. One day, you decided to go kayaking out in the bay, and while you were out in the water, Jun-ho stopped for a minute. There was a gap in your conversation, and during it, your husband stopped paddling.
“Babe, are you alright?”
He looked up at you as if startled. “Yeah, I’m alright.” He paused, “Would it be okay if we went back, I need to do something important.”
“Um, yeah sure. What is it?” You hesitantly asked.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Your face sank. Every question you asked your husband ended with him saying ‘It’s nothing,’ no matter how big of a deal it likely was.
A couple of days later, when your husband came home late again, he told you that he would be busy on his day off and that a friend of his needed help on his boat. You just smiled and nodded, because what else could you really do?
Then he was busy the next weekend, and then the next, and the next. You only really saw your husband for a couple of minutes in the morning, and a couple of minutes in the night. Sometimes, you were able to make time. Sometimes, you would go out for a nice dinner, or go out to a friend’s party for the holidays. On your birthday he took the whole day off work and planned every single thing you would do all day. He made breakfast, took you shopping in the morning, went out to a nice lunch, took you out to the countryside to the ocean, and bought you lunch in your favorite tiny spot next to the shore. It was like for just 24 hours you had your husband back.
But other than that, it was like living with a ghost. He got more and more stressed over time. He smiled the same amount, but even with taking a demotion to a regular cop, he was getting worse and worse over time. He felt tenser, and more on edge than he had ever been before.
Every night you would fall asleep crying, you became used to waking up with a wet pillow or having to look at your puffy eyes when you wiped the condensation off the mirror after crying in the shower. Whenever Jun-ho saw the tears, whether you were laying in bed or cooking dinner on one of the rare nights that he came home early would wrap you in a hug from behind, and say, “I’m so sorry honey, I promise this will pass.” 
And you would plead, “Please honey, please, just tell me what’s happening, please be here more.”
And he would press his head into your back and whisper, “I can’t, I’m sorry. I love you.”
Your hopes would drop all over again, “I love you too.”
It was three years before anything changed. You would constantly beg him to do anything, to see someone, to talk to you, to do anything. Your friends asked you if he was cheating, but you knew he wasn’t. You knew, somehow that whatever was happening, was big, and important. And that it was eating you and your husband alive.
You didn’t see him for three days. He answered all of your texts with “Just something for work, I’ll be home soon. I love you.” Nothing else. No explanation for anything.
You slept on the couch and stayed there when you were awake, racked with anxiety. When he finally came home you sat there staring straight ahead. He didn’t speak.
You had pictured a fight, a confrontation. You had begged and pleaded, with tears in your eyes before. But nothing had happened. And after almost four years, you didn’t have any energy left.
“I want a divorce.” You surprised yourself with the words.
You looked up at him, and he stood there, his expression unreadable. 
“If you can’t tell me what the hell is going on, tomorrow I’m going to a lawyer.” 
He stumbled toward you and dropped to his knees in front of you, “(Y/n), please. You just have to trust me. This, this’ll all be over soon. I know I’ve said it before, but this time I mean it, soon it’ll be just like before.”
You looked into your husband’s eyes which were beginning to fill with tears. “I don’t believe you.”
“Baby, please. I can’t tell you, I really can’t.” His head dropped, breaking eye contact as you saw a tear fall down to reach the floor. He whispered, “If- if you know the truth, I don’t know what’ll happen to you. And I can’t risk that. I- I’ve risked everything else. But I can’t risk you.”
You couldn’t cry, your tears were all dried up. You should be shocked by what he was saying, but your mind went back to what you heard him say from outside that hospital room years ago “Hundreds… Shot.”
“I know, I’ve known. I know that you remember, and I know that it’s related to when you went missing. I just need you to trust me. I can’t do this anymore.”
He looks up at you, grabbing your hands and wrapping his around yours. “I know, I’m so sorry, but I need you to just wait a little bit longer-”
You stood up. “I think you should leave.” 
“(Y/n), please.”
You walked away from him, towards your bedroom. “(Y/n), I love you.”
“I love you.” And then you heard the door shut.
As you lay in bed, you couldn’t help but feel empty, like your heart had been torn out of your chest. The brutal calm you had been through was over, but storm had just begun.
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Part two will be out with the next season, stay tuned for more!
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creamecafe · 1 month ago
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hii could u write something for Dae-ho set in the mingle game and its basically just him protecting reader and always keeping them at his side. 🫶🫶🫶
"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you"
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Summary: What the request says
Pairing: Dae-Ho x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)
Warnings: fluff, comfort, pining
Word Count:
Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy!
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Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!
Read on Wattpad & AO3 here
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It's a miracle that you have made it to the third game. You were sure you were going to die in the second game, but thanks to the team you had, you were more than determined to still stay alive
Out of all them, there was one that you kept looking at. Dae-Ho. You couldn't help but find him cute. This certainly wasn't the place to have feelings as you could die before telling him.
It was the same for Dae-Ho, trying to make sure everyone is ok and that the team survives. But it was something with you.
He felt safe with you, and wanted to protect you. Even if it meant giving his life for you.
The announcement for the third game came, you were worried, but wanted it to be over it. Dae-Ho noticed you being anxious and asked if you okay
"Are you okay?"
You stopped zoning out and looked at him with your heart pounding.
"What? Y-yes I'm ok thank you." Nodding trying to reassure yourself.
"I think this might be the last game I play in." You chuckled knowing deep inside you dreaded the idea
"Hey look at me."
You did as he said. "Don't say that, you have us."
He held out your hand to hold it. You looked at it and hesitated putting your hand out but you held it. A tight squeeze was given but not too rough. It was a sign of reassuring.
He gives you a smile and you did too not of full happiness but someone is here to care about you.
All of you guys were called for the game. You got up and stayed close to Dae-Ho. He looked back at you and nodded. You did the same.
It was the same, climbing up those colorful but dreading stairs to the next game. Every minute or two, Dae-Ho made sure you were right behind him.
You finally reached the game and saw a carousel in the middle with horses and so many doors of different bright colors for a Pre-K setting.
"Welcome to your third game." The woman's voice from the previous games you heard came on the speakers.
"The game you will be playing is Mingle. Let me repeat. The game you will be playing is Mingle."
Turning your head to look at Dae-Ho, he's already looking at you.
You quickly look away not to make the situation worse. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable as well.
"All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."
"Oh this game? We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging." Jung-bae exclaimed.
"Yeah. Instead of hugging, we go into those rooms" Dae-Ho mentioned.
"If the number is bigger than six, we'll get the additional people we need." Gi-Hun
And if it's less than that? You thought in your mind
"But what if it's smaller than five? Like three or four
You turned your head to Dae-Ho. It's like he read your mind exactly.
"No matter what happens, don't panic. Let's stay calm," Young-il nods. "We'll make it out together. Here."
Those words echoing in your mind, there wasn't enough time to doubt if your group would stick with you.
You've seen how quickly people are to turn against each other especially in the Red Light, Green Light.
But you're more than determined to stay alive, just to see Dae-Ho's face every chance you get.
Young-il puts the back side of hand out to form a truce. One by one, everyone is putting their hands on top of each other. You were the last one.
"Y/N. Are you in?" Gi-Hun asks.
Dae-Ho looks at you with worry in his eyes. You had no choice and no knowledge of trusting others in this game, so you put your hand out on top.
Dae-Ho becomes relieved at this.
"One, two, three. Victory at all costs."
Sighing at this with relief, you guys begin to spread out. The carousel is starting to spin
People scream out in fear. Lights go out and the light in the middle where horses out lights ups and music plays.
Children are singing about holding hands and ringing around.
Dae-Ho holds your hand lightly. He grazes your hand with his thumb. You don't look at him, as you fear you'll die doing so.
It suddenly stops. The number is 9. People are running out frantically pairing in groups of 9. Dae-Ho doesn't let go of your hand.
"We need 3 more." You said. Your group ran looking for 3 more.
A old lady, her son and another woman goes up to you guys.
"Are you guys 3?" Young-il asks
"Yes we're." The old lady nods frantically.
"Quickly we got to get into a room" Gi Hun exclaims
Your feet were starting to move, but the grip of Dae-Ho holding your hand made you move even faster.
All of you guys rushed into a room and closed the door. The room was filled with heavy breaths. There was a click on the lock meaning that the room was closed and nobody can get in or out.
Right now, you have never been more grateful to be alive in playing a game
It wasn't long before you heard gunshots, and it was safe to assume it was those who didn't pair up or get into rooms in time.
Now that you're safe, you look at Dae-Ho and he does too.
"Is everyone ok?" Dae-Ho asks
There was a lot of yes. That answer might change throughout the game seeing how long each of us might last.
The door lock clicked and you guys were allowed to come out. There were bodies on the floors and blood splattered. "Take off your mind off those bodies or you'll be one of them" Your mind was telling yourself.
"We got this" Dae-Ho talks to you
"We do" You smiled. Don't know how many smiles it will take to keep going, but you're ready to prove his point.
The game started again and the carousel spins. You hold out to Dae-Ho's hand.
Now the number was 4. Young-il grabs Jung-Bae and goes to find two more people. That's left Gi-Hun, Jun-Hee, Dae-Ho and you left.
There was no time to waste. All four you ran to a room and locked yourself in. Gi-Hun was looking around for Young-il. You pulled him back in.
The gunshots came again. The lesser the number, the more likely people will betray each other.
How long this game will last, you don't know. All you know is that you have people here to help you. Even if it's just one person, it makes all the difference.
The doors clicked and it was time for another round. The panic and adrenaline of it all keeps coming back. But Dae-Ho is making sure you're by his side, even if he may die in the game as well.
Six the group was. Dae-Ho said you and him were going to go and find another group. Luckily you did and you managed to still be alive locked in a room.
Now it all came down to the very last game. There were less people than the game started. You wanted to finish this for once and for all. While the carousel was spinning and music playing, you place yourself in movement ready to run and holding Dae-Ho's hand.
"2" The voice said.
It felt like time was going slow once it announced the number. Everybody is rushing to get into a room. Time's running out.
You felt a hand pull you back and you fell to the ground. Dae-Ho heard your scream and saw someone trying to stop you from going into a room. Someone else was already in the room that you guys were planning to go into.
Dae-Ho could go into the room and that would already make it two. But he's made it too far to leave you.
He ran and punched the guy that pushed you. He put you back on your feet and dragged the other guy out. He slammed the door shut and the timer just came to zero. The guy on the other side begs and bangs on the door.
A pink guard shoots him and the noises stop.
"Are you ok?" Dae-Ho rushes to you.
Still shaken at what happened, at the fact you almost died if it wasn't for him to save you, you nodded.
"Yes I am. Thank you."
There was a moment of silence between you too as you were catching your breaths.
The door clicked and you both came out.
"Y/N! Dae-Ho!" Both of your names were being called
Gi-Hun, Young-il, Jung-Bae and Jun-Hee run up to you guys and you all hug each other.
"I'm so glad you guys are ok." Jun-Hee smiles
You're also relieved that everyone else is fine and made it out alive. You could return back to the dorms.
Walking down back the stairs and into the dorms, everyone was mostly silent but some talked.
You ran up and tapped Dae-Ho on the shoulder.
"Hey Dae-Ho?"
"Yes Y/N?"
"You could have gone into the room where the other guy before you dragged him out, why didn't you?"
Dae-Ho took a pause before responding.
"I have lost many people when I was a marine, seen people get killed in front of me. I can't let it happen to you."
He starts to become close to you but not too close.
"As long as I'm still alive, I'll make sure you're fine. That's a promise I tend to keep Y/N."
Those words stuck with you. You could die in the next game, but right here at this moment is a reason to keep going.
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Taglist:
@hobinistaworld
Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Kang Dae-Ho Masterlist | Join my taglist!
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hananet11 · 2 months ago
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When the Phone Rings - Fanfic Master list
I don't know about anyone else, but this show has me in an absolute chokehold already. Literally only two episodes in and I am praying they don't fuck it up and also that they absolutely fuck each other up.
Either way, I'm desperate for fanfic showcasing how absolutely gone these idiots are for each other. And also a few paragraphs specifically about Beak Sa Eon's HANDS.
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Please note these are only english fanfics, sorry!
As of 17/12/2024 I've also restricted this list to not include any cross-over fics, and have mostly stuck to completed/one-shot fics.
THANK YOU TO THE AMAZING AUTHORS PUMPING THIS STUFF OUT
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Explicit - Give in to the sexual tension already:
Lighting the Match to Swallow the Flame - By thefrenchmistake
Surrender and Undeniable - by femme11fatale
Hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did - By thefrenchmistake
Alternate Universe/Canon Divergence:
Get Home - By Kavute (Also on Tumblr at Mashumaru)
Never said the words - By Pennymgram
Please - By Me (Lol please guys someone write some more T-T)
Don’t Blame Me (love made me crazy) - By sleepingonthefloor
I’m proud of you - By hyenasbloom
A dress and dinner for Christmas - By hyenasbloom
the waiting game - By sleepingonthefloor
Closer - femme11fatale
Too Close to Deny - hyunnieluv
The Dress - hyunnieluv
Safe and Sound - By hyunnieluv
Push & Pull - By jingyiis
Inner thoughts/Baek Sa Eon losing his mind over Hong Hui Joo:
Sounds - by Envinyatar27
Unspoken - By femme11fatale
He Does Not Know How To Put Himself In Grace - By LadyWillow
the waiting game - By sleepingonthefloor
The Dress - hyunnieluv
Bonus - Jealous Baek Sa Eon:
Closer - femme11fatale
Beneath the Surface - femme11fatale
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HeeJoo getting what we all deserve at the end of Ep 2 - By urwritethanks (or posted on there, I'm not sure)
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I'll keep updating when I see any more fics, but for now, these are my sustenance.
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atomicfoxx · 2 days ago
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💖 I need a big boyyy, give me a big boyyyyyyy 💖
and I need him so bad
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hansoeii · 2 months ago
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I might've started a small jayvik comic because the brainrot is still going extremely strong
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pushingdaisies1 · 29 days ago
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SNEAKY PEEK!!! mwehehehe... my cauldron is bubbling.... (theres more to the summary its cut off) This song by the Bleachers especially inspired me for the general vibe of this , I hope I am able to deliver but tis only a work in progress....
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marvolos · 29 days ago
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Hold Me While You Wait
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PAIRING: Cho Hyun Ju x gender neutral reader
SYNOPSIS: Cho Hyun-ju has known loss, but nothing compares to holding the lifeless body of the only person who ever truly believed in her. As they die in her arms, their final plea for comfort shatters her. Consumed by guilt over her choices in the deadly games, she is left alone in the silence of her grief, forced to confront the price of survival in a world that offers no mercy.
GENRE: angst
WARNINGS: blood, death, grief, guilt and self-blame
NOTES: i have literally been obsessed with hyunju since i finished watching s2 and the lack of fics made me want to attempt my own hand at writing (thank u to the people who requested this!!). please keep in mind that this is my absolute first time indulging into fanfic writing rather than relying on reading others' works so i would love some constructive criticism!! english is not my first language so i apologise if there are errors, this is not proof read.
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Cho Hyun-ju was no stranger to the cruel intimacy of loss. It clung to her like a shadow, its touch cold and unrelenting. She had lost so many she had once dared to love, the echoes of their departures a constant ache in her chest. Friends, companions, confidants—each had slipped through her grasp the moment she chose to trust them, her vulnerability rewarded with betrayal as sharp and merciless as any blade. Yet, as she knelt there now, cradling the almost lifeless body of the only soul who had never faltered in their belief in her, she realized she had never truly understood pain. Not like this.
“Hyun-ju...” Their voice was weak, little more than a whisper. She leaned closer, her tears falling onto their face as she brushed a strand of hair from their blood-streaked forehead.
“I’m here,” she choked out, her voice cracking. “I’m here. You’re going to be okay. Just...stay with me.”
A faint smile tugged at their lips, so familiar yet so fragile it made her chest ache. “Liar,” they murmured, their words tinged with bittersweet amusement. “We both know...I’m not making it out of this.”
“Don’t say that!” Hyun-ju snapped, her hands pressing desperately against the wound in their chest. “You’re not leaving me. You promised! You said we’d survive this together!”
Their hand, slick with blood, reached up to cup her cheek. The gesture was weak, trembling, but the tenderness in their touch was unmistakable. “Hyun-ju,” they said, their gaze locking onto hers with a heartbreaking intensity. “Just...hold me.”
Her breath hitched. “No, I can stop the bleeding, I—”
“Please,” they interrupted, their voice so soft it broke her. “There’s no time. I don’t want to die alone... Just...let me feel safe. One last time.”
Hyun-ju’s vision blurred with tears, but she obeyed, gathering them closer against her chest. She buried her face in their hair, her sobs muffled as she clung to them like a lifeline. “You’re not alone,” she whispered, her words trembling with the weight of her grief. “I’m here. I’ll stay with you. Always.”
“Thank you,” they murmured, their voice barely audible now. “You...made it all worth it. Even this.”
“No,” Hyun-ju cried, her tears falling faster. “Don’t talk like that. Don’t leave me. Please...”
But their breathing slowed, each ragged inhale weaker than the last. Their hand fell from her cheek, limp at their side.
“I love you,” they whispered, the words so faint she barely caught them. And then, silence.
Hyun-ju’s world shattered.
Her beloved’s blood soaked through her fingers, warm and sticky, as if it carried the remnants of the life now slipping away. Hyun-ju's arms tightened around them as if she could hold their spirit in place, refusing to let death take what was hers. But their chest no longer rose with breath, and their once-bright eyes had dulled, staring blankly at a sky that offered no solace.
Hyun-ju's mind screamed at her to do something—anything—but her body was paralyzed, shackled by despair. The memory of a promise whispered in the tender quiet of midnight played cruelly in her head: We’ll face this together. Forever. That word mocked her now, hanging heavy with unfulfilled dreams, as eternity dissolved into a fleeting, fragile moment that ended too soon.
This was her fault.
The realization hit like a tidal wave, threatening to drag her under. Every choice she had made, every desperate gamble to survive, had led to this. She had believed she was fighting for their future—for their chance to escape the grasp of the brutal games that reduced human lives to fodder for the amusement of the elite. But instead, her choices had forged the very blade that now severed their shared hopes and dreams.
Her thoughts spiraled back to the first moment she saw them, standing on the shoreline, now just the pieces of a faint memory. The sea had stretched endlessly behind them, a restless expanse of possibility. Their smile had been like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, offering her something she had almost forgotten—hope. For the first time in years, she had felt seen, understood, as if their very presence whispered, you belong.
In the games, that hope had been her anchor. They had stood by her through every blood-streaked challenge, every moment of terror when the line between life and death blurred. They had trusted her when no one else would, had defended her when she didn’t deserve it.
And now they were gone.
That fleeting sense of belonging had been torn from her, ripped apart by the blood-soaked machinery of the games. She wanted to blame them—the faceless architects of this hell—but deep down, she knew it was her own hand that had led them here. Stay for one more game, she had told herself, clinging to the illusion that they could endure just a little longer, that she could outwit the odds. And now...now, that decision had cost her everything.
The weight of her grief pressed down on her chest, suffocating. Her vision blurred with tears, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away. What did it matter now? The world was a cruel, hollow place, and mourning was all she had left.
Her hands shook as she pressed them to the wound in their chest, futilely trying to stem the flow of blood. But it was pointless. The games didn’t allow for miracles.
The loudspeaker crackled to life above her, the voice cutting through her despair like a blade.
“Contestant 024 eliminated. Remaining contestants, return to the starting line for the next round.”
Hyun-ju’s breath hitched. The next round. It never ended. The games didn’t stop for grief, didn’t pause for the dead. They demanded obedience, demanded survival at any cost.
But what was the point of surviving now?
Her gaze shifted to the others still standing at the edge of the arena, their faces pale, their eyes averted. They had seen what happened, knew it could just as easily have been them. The games had robbed them all of their humanity, turning them into hollow shells, desperate only to live another day. Sympathy was a luxury the games didn’t allow.
“What was the point?” she choked out, her voice raw and broken. The words fell into the stillness around her, unanswered, as if the universe itself had turned its back on her suffering.
She looked down at her beloved’s face, tracing every line and feature with trembling fingers. How often had those lips spoken words of reassurance, promises that they’d make it through together? How often had those eyes met hers with unwavering faith, even when the world seemed intent on breaking them both?
Now, they were gone. And she remained. A cruel joke, an empty punishment for sins she could never atone for.
Hyun-ju pressed her forehead to theirs, her tears mingling with the blood between them. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking with the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies. “I’m so, so sorry.”
But the silence that greeted her was deafening, a reminder that forgiveness would never come.
The night stretched on, oppressive and eternal, as she sat there in the crimson pool of her regret, mourning not just the love she had lost but the pieces of herself that had died with them.
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hold me while you wait — © marvolos, 2025.
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Jake - "She— She licked me like a lollipop, lollipop" 🔥
Jake - 02 line!
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luvxkdrama · 9 days ago
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— obsession
pairing : salesman x reader
warnings : mentions of blood, violence, guns, stalking, manipulation
word count : 6.7 k
summary : “You can run all you want,” he said softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But you’ll always end up right where I want you.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Because you’re mine, Y/N. And I always take care of what’s mine.”
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[obsession] /əbˈsɛʃn/ : an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person's mind
Life has a special way of pulling a full 180° in the blink of an eye—a truth few dare to believe, yet most dismiss without a second thought.
You weren't one of those who believed in the unpredictable twists of life, as you didn’t consider yourself 'special' enough like the protagonists in movies. Your world revolved around university, and your side jobs after class, providing you with the only sense of reality and moments of social interaction. You were always sort of a loner, as people tended to drift in and out of your life with little permanence.
In your early teenage years, this left a deep impact, especially as you watched other girls surrounded by close friends and romantic relationships, while you spent most of your time alone. It weighed heavily on you for a long time, but over the years, you grew to understand that you didn’t need anyone to be happy—at least, not in the way you once thought. You learned to simply keep moving forward with life.
Winter was your favourite season as you found the streets covered in snow, only lightened by the old street lamps, oddly comforting and peaceful. For this exact reason, late classes never bothered, as your walk home with music in your ears while you observed the snow slowly falling from the sky, felt like a reward.
While everyone was still busy talking after class, you didn't waste a second before picking up your things from your desk and leaving the building, the cold yet fresh air hitting you in the face. After quickly adjusting your bag, you put in your earphones in and tightened your scarf before heading home.
It was the most carefree moment of your day, just you and your music.
Or at least, that's how it used to be.
You would feel it whenever you’re walking down the familiar path, the air would suddenly start to feel colder and you’d instinctively quicken your pace. The sensation was back each evening—an eerie feeling crawling up your spine, as if someone unseen was watching your every step since you stepped outside university to the very last step in front of your house.
It began weeks ago but with time you simply convinced yourself you were paranoid especially since each time you glanced over your shoulder, you were met with an empty street. Though, the uneasy shiver constintently lingered in your head.
You sighed at the new sign in front of you on the pavement. The town’s mayor suddenly had the magnificent idea to reconstruct the street's surfaces, which resulted in blocked streets. You turned to your side and eyed the little, barely lightened alleyway in the corner, which seemed like the only fast option for you to get home.
After concluding that the distance through the alleyway should only take you approximately seven minutes, you took a deep breath and left the main street.
Your eyes were glued to the time on your phone which indicated that three minutes has already passed. The relief instantly turned into fear when a sudden sound of footsteps echoed through the alleyway.
At first, you convinced yourself it was your paranoia once again however your blood ran cold when you heard some low chatters as well.
Without a second to loose, you broke into a sprint, each one of your instincts screaming to get away. To your misfortune, the footsteps behind you quickened almost immediately.
Before you could make it to the next turn, you felt someone harshly pull you back, the strength sending you flying on the hard and cold floor. You winced at the sudden pain across your wrist. After a few seconds, you finally looked up just to be face to face with two older men, staring down at you with the creepiest grin you’ve ever seen.
“We knew this alleyway would come in handy someday.” One of them sneered, the other one nodding along.
“That’s a whole jackpot, man.” The smaller one spoke up, eyeing you up and down.
You sat slumped against the wall, your breath uneven. The two men stood a few feet away, their conversation hushed, but the clinking of a glass bottle and the rustling of a sheet drew your attention. Your eyes darted to the white cloth in the man’s hand, already soaked with a liquid that darkened its edges. Your pulse quickened. Your gaze flicked to your left, catching the glint of an empty beer bottle half-hidden in the shadows.
In one desperate motion, you pushed yourself up and lunged for the bottle. The sudden movement startled them, but only for a second. You grabbed the bottle, your fingers trembling as you smashed it against the brick wall. Glass shards rained around you, one nicking your palm, but you barely felt the sting.
You spun to face them, holding the improvised weapon out, your knuckles white, your breathing ragged.
The two men froze for a beat, their expressions unreadable. Then one of them smirked, slow and deliberate, as though your act of defiance was nothing more than an amusing spectacle. The other stepped forward slightly, tilting his head, curiosity flickering in his dark eyes.
"Bold," the first man said, his voice like gravel. "But you won’t use it."
Your grip tightened, the jagged glass shaking in your hand. You raised it higher, her eyes blazing. “Try me.”
Blood dripped down your wrist now, pooling at your fingertips. The pain should have registered, but it didn’t. All you could feel was the rush of adrenaline and the desperate need to survive.
The second man chuckled, low and humorless. "You’re going to hurt yourself more than us with that thing." He took another step, as though testing your resolve.
“I said don’t come any closer!” You barked, your voice rising to a frantic pitch. Your vision blurred at the edges, panic threatening to consume you, but you forced herself to stand your ground.
Then, a slow, deliberate sound cut through the tension.
A clap.
Your body stiffened, and you instinctively glanced over your shoulder, though you didn’t dare take her eyes completely off the two men. From the shadows at the far end of the alley came the silhouette of another figure. The dim light barely outlined his form, but there was something about the confident way he moved that made the air feel heavier.
The men froze, their smugness faltering.
The figure stepped closer, his polished shoes clicking softly against the concrete. As he passed into the cone of light from a flickering streetlamp, you saw him fully: tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that fit him like it cost more than your rent.
In one hand, he carried a sleek leather briefcase, but it wasn’t his appearance that sent a chill down your spine—it was the weight of his gaze. He looked at you first, his eyes briefly flicking down to the blood dripping from your hand. Something sharp and dangerous flashed across his expression.
Then his gaze shifted to the two men. His eyes hardened, turning into something deadly.
"You know," he said, his voice low and smooth, yet carrying an undercurrent of menace, "I was not going to let you go easily but,” He took another step forward, unhurried, the lamplight catching the faintest sheen of his cufflinks. “the fact you wasted even a drop of her blood, that, gentlemen, is unforgivable and only leads me to believe you need to pay the highest price for it.” He tilted his head, his jaw tightening.
The smirk on one of the men’s faces disappeared entirely. "Look, we didn’t—"
"Don’t." The man’s voice cut through the air like a blade. He placed his briefcase down on the ground with a deliberate click, straightening as he slid his hands into his pockets. "Save your excuses. I’m not interested."
Your breath hitched as you tightened your grip on the broken bottle, your gaze flicking between the three men. Despite the man in the suit not even looking at you now, you felt the weight of his protection like a shield— and it scared you just as much as it comforted you.
One of the men took a step back, his bravado cracking. "Who the hell are you?" he snapped, though his voice wavered.
The suited man’s lips curled into a humorless smile. "Oh, you’ll find out soon enough."
His gaze flicked to you again, softer this time but still heavy with something unreadable. "Drop the bottle, little one," he said quietly. "You don’t need it anymore."
You hesitated, your chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. But something in his voice, steady and commanding, made your fingers loosen slightly on the jagged glass.
The suited man turned his attention back to the two men, loosening his cuffs as he turned his attention to the two men. “Let’s make this quick, shall we?”
One of the men sneered and lunged first, but it was a mistake. The suited man moved with startling precision, sidestepping with ease before landing a sharp blow to the man’s jaw. The thug crumpled to the ground instantly.
The second man hesitated but swung wildly, aiming for his head. The suited man ducked, his movements fluid and controlled. His fist connected with the man’s ribs, and with a single upward jab to his temple, the second thug dropped like a marionette with its strings cut.
It was over in seconds.
The suited man adjusted his tie and hair as if nothing had happened, his calm demeanor almost unnerving. He stepped over the unconscious bodies, his polished shoes clicking against the concrete as he approached you.
Your grip on the broken bottle tightened again, but before you could say anything, he held up a hand.
“Careful,” he said softly, his eyes flicking to the blood on your hand. “You’re already hurt.”
Your heart pounded, your legs trembling beneath you. You wanted to ask who he was, what he wanted—but the words caught in your throat.
As if sensing your hesitation, he offered you a small, disarming smile. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his tone far too casual. “But if I don’t do this, you’ll miss all the fun.”
Your brows furrowed. “What—”
You didn’t even see him move. One moment he was standing in front of you, and the next, you felt a sharp sting at the side of your neck. Your hand flew up instinctively, fingers brushing against a small syringe he’d already pulled away.
Your vision blurred, the alley tilting around her. “What... did you do?” You managed, your voice slurring as your legs gave way.
Your vision darkened, your consciousness slipping away. The last thing you felt was his steady hands cradling you as if you were something fragile.
And then, there was nothing.
──────────────────
A sharp pounding in your skull dragged you back to consciousness. Groaning, you tried to reach up to massage your temple, but your arms wouldn’t move. Panic shot through you as you became fully aware—your wrists were tightly bound to a cold metal chair.
Your eyes snapped open, taking in your surroundings. Dim light. An unfamiliar room. And then your breath hitched.
A few meters ahead of you, the two men who had cornered you in the alley sat slumped in chairs, directly across from each other. They were conscious but visibly shaken, their hands fidgeting nervously as they avoided looking at each other.
Your heart raced as you scanned the room. The polished figure of the man in the suit stepped into view, the faint clack of his expensive shoes echoing in the otherwise silent room. He carried the same briefcase from earlier, but now it was open on a nearby table, its contents hidden from your angle.
“Ah, you’re awake.” His voice was smooth, casual, as if he were greeting an old friend. He turned to you with a smile that made your stomach churn.
Your throat tightened as you yanked at the bindings on your wrists, the rough rope biting into your skin. “Let me go!” You shouted, but your voice cracked, fear taking over.
The suited man ignored you. Instead, he turned to the two men, his expression darkening. “Now, gentlemen, here’s how it works. You’ll play a few rounds of rock-paper-scissors.” His tone was almost cheerful, as if he were explaining a board game. “The loser, unfortunately for them, will take a turn in a nice little game of Russian roulette.”
The two men looked at him in wide-eyed horror. “You’re insane,” one of them spat, though his voice quivered. The man in the suit only chuckled. “Oh, that’s rich coming from someone who thought harassing a woman in an alley was perfectly sane.”
Your heart dropped. Your stomach churned as you yanked harder at the restraints, desperate to get free. “Stop this!” You screamed, your voice raw with panic.
The man’s cold eyes flicked to you. He walked over slowly, tilting his head as if examining you. “We’ll talk later, love. Let me take care of these two first.” he said softly, as if speaking to a child.
“No ! Let me out of here !” Your scream grew louder, shrill and desperate. You weren’t going to let this happen.
The suited man sighed, pulling something from the table behind you. When he turned back, a roll of silver duct tape was in his hand. “You’re really quite loud,” he remarked with a faint smirk “when I say we’ll talk later, we will talk later.” Before you could react, he firmly pressed a strip of tape over your mouth.
You screamed against it, the sound muffled now, as tears began to blur your vision. “There we go,” he said calmly, crouching to your eye level. “Much better. Don’t worry—you’re not the one playing.” He reached out to brush a stray tear from your cheek, his touch gentle in a way that made your stomach twist.
Standing again, he turned back to the two men, his fingers brushed over the revolver, spinning the cylinder slowly, the soft metallic clicks echoing through the room. His voice, smooth and unhurried, cut through the tension.
“You know,” he began, his eyes flicking to you for a fleeting moment before focusing back on the two men, “I’ve been watching her for weeks now. Quiet, diligent, always walking home alone late at night. Completely unaware of the world around her.”
He smiled faintly, almost wistfully. “She never notices the things I do. The way the streetlights flicker just a little too long on that one corner she passes every day. The way her steps quicken when she hears a noise but then slow again because she convinces herself there’s nothing there.” He chuckled softly, the sound devoid of warmth. “So trusting of the silence.”
You froze, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You thrashed against the ropes, your muffled cries filling the room as you stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Y/N,” he said, tilting his head as he glanced at you. “It’s not as sinister as it sounds.” He gestured vaguely with one hand. “I simply… admired you from afar. I like to keep things orderly, you see. Controlled.”
He turned back to the two men, his smile fading as his expression darkened. “But you two… you ruined everything.” His tone sharpened, dripping with venom. “I had an organized, peaceful plan in place. No harm, no mess. But no. You just had to interfere with your disgusting little game, didn’t you?”
The two men exchanged frantic glances, their fear mounting with every word.
The suited man leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “I was patient. I waited. I followed her, yes, but not with ill intent. I was protecting her. Watching over her. Ensuring no harm came to her.” His voice dipped, colder now. “And then you two decided to drag her into your filthy, selfish world. For what? A moment of power? A sick thrill?”
He straightened, running a hand along the lapel of his suit, his calm exterior returning as if he hadn’t just confessed to weeks of stalking. “And if that wasn’t bad enough,” he continued, his tone now bitter, “you made her hurt herself in the process. Her blood is on your hands.” His eyes flicked to your bandaged palm, and for a brief moment, something unreadable flashed across his face.
He exhaled sharply, as if regaining control of his emotions. “You crossed a line, and now you’ll pay for it.”
He turned the revolver over in his hands, spinning the cylinder again. “Still, I’m a fair man,” he said lightly, his eerie composure returning. “I’m giving you a chance to fight for your lives. Call it... a game of fate.”
He stepped back, gesturing for them to begin. “Alright gentlemen, Rock-paper-scissors. Let’s see which one of you Fate favors tonight.”
You thrashed against the chair, your muffled screams filling the room as the two men looked at each other, their hands trembling.
“Come on now,” he said to the two men, his voice calm but icy. “You don’t want to keep me waiting.”
The two men exchanged panicked glances, their hands trembling as they raised them for the first round of rock-paper-scissors. Their fear was palpable, almost suffocating, but your attention wavered.
Your breath came in ragged gasps as you struggled against the ropes, your heart hammering in your chest. Your mind was still reeling from his words.
You had felt it. The chill in the air when you walked home late at night, that unsettling sensation of eyes on you. But you had convinced yourself it was nothing—paranoia, the unease of being alone in the dark. Empty streets.
But now, hearing him speak of it so casually, the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. It was him.
The man in the suit. The one who had saved you, but not because he was some white knight. He had been stalking you. Watching you. Waiting.
Terror gripped you like icy fingers around your throat, the thought of being watched so intimately, without tour knowledge, like a puppet on strings. The idea that you had been under his control all this time, and you hadn’t even known it.
But something else—a feeling you didn’t want to admit—slithered into your thoughts. You had always been alone. Always. No family to speak of. No friends who cared enough to check in. No one who looked out for you.
It had always been you against the world, and the world had never been kind. No one ever stepped in when you were vulnerable. No one ever protected you. You had learned to fend for herself, to be cold and distant, to push people away before they could disappoint you.
But now...
As twisted and sick as it was, this man had done something you had never experienced in her life: he had protected you— in a sick way but still saved you.
His twisted sense of justice, his obsession with keeping you safe—however horrifying it was—was still protection. He was about to punish the men who had tried to hurt you, and in some sick way, he had kept you alive when no one else would.
Your mind recoiled from the realization, the very thought of feeling something in response to him made you sick to your stomach. But deep inside, beneath the fear, a small part of you couldn’t shake the strange, unsettling gratitude that bubbled up.
Your fists clenched in fury, torn between disgust and something you couldn’t quite name. No, you thought fiercely. This is wrong. He’s not saving me. He’s controlling me.
But then your thoughts returned to the dark alley, to the coldness of the men’s eyes, to the knife-edge of danger. And to him. The suited man. The one who had stepped in, the one who had acted.
As much as you hated to admit it, as much as it disgusted you to feel this, there was a part of you that wanted that. Wanted someone to care. Wanted someone to fight for you.
And you weren’t sure how to feel about that.
The room got suffocatingly silent except for the shallow, uneven breaths of the two men. Their trembling hands hovered in front of them, shaking as they raised them for the next round of rock-paper-scissors.
The first round began.
“Rock... paper... scissors.”
One man threw rock, the other paper.
The loser flinched, his face pale as the suited man reached for the revolver and casually pointed it at his temple, a hint of amusement in his sharp, dark eyes.
Click.
The empty chamber echoed louder than any gunshot. The man slumped forward, relief flooding his features as he gasped for air.
The suited man’s expression didn’t change. “Next round.”
The second round came and went.
“Rock... paper... scissors.”
The other man lost this time.
Click.
Another empty chamber.
The suited man sighed, his gaze dropping to the watch on his wrist. “How... tedious,” he muttered.
The third round began.
“Rock... paper... scissors.”
Again, nothing. No gunshots, no blood, just the hollow sound of the revolver’s empty chamber.
You felt your heart pounding so hard it was like it would burst out of your chest. Every click was both a relief and a fresh torment, prolonging the nightmare.
The suited man straightened, his shoulders rolling as if to shake off his growing irritation. He turned toward the men, the smile that had been faintly lingering on his lips finally disappearing.
“This is growing dull,” he said, his voice cold and detached. He stepped closer to the table, placing one hand on the revolver. “It seems fate isn’t in the mood to entertain me tonight. So, let’s... spice things up.”
The two men froze, their fear amplifying as the suited man began calmly sliding bullets into the chambers of the revolver.
“One,” he said softly, pushing the first bullet into place.
Your stomach churned violently.
“Two.”
The suited man didn’t even look at you, his focus entirely on the gun.
“Three. Four.”
He stopped after the fifth bullet, snapping the cylinder back into place with a sharp click. He lifted the revolver and spun it lazily, the sound of the bullets shifting inside somehow more horrifying than the silence.
“There,” he said, his tone almost cheerful as he set the gun back on the table. “Now the rules have changed. The odds of survival aren’t five out of six anymore. They’re one out of six.”
The two men stared at him, their terror now paralyzing.
“Shall we continue?” he asked lightly, though the faint boredom in his tone made it clear he was no longer asking.
The next round began.
“Rock... paper... scissors.”
The loser was trembling so badly while his sobs filled the room as he felt the gun pressed against his temple.
Your entire being screamed for him to stop, to refuse, but the suited man pulled the trigger.
The deafening bang shattered the air.
You froze as the man slumped in his chair, his lifeless body sagging forward. Blood sprayed across the room, staining the floor in violent red streaks.
The suited man didn’t even flinch. He adjusted his cufflinks as if nothing had happened, his gaze slowly turning toward you.
The suited man tilted his head, studying your reaction with mild curiosity. “Hmm,” he said softly, almost to himself. “I thought that might quiet you.”
He moved toward you with calm, measured steps, and your heart pounded harder with each one.
“You’ll understand soon,” he murmured as he crouched to meet your terrified gaze. His voice was low, almost soothing, but his eyes were sharp, unrelenting. “This is justice. This is control. And in time, you’ll come to see how necessary it is.”
His expression was unreadable, though a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth.
He reached for the duct tape covering your lips. “Let’s take this off, shall we?”
He peeled the tape away carefully, almost gently, as if he didn’t want to hurt you. You gasped as the air hit your chapped lips, your breathing ragged and panicked. You jerked your head away from his touch, your eyes burning with tears and fear.
But the suited man didn’t seem bothered by your reaction. Instead, he smiled softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. The unexpected tenderness in the gesture made you flinch.
“You’ve been so brave,” he said quietly, his voice soothing yet chilling. “But I can see the fear in your eyes. Don’t worry. I’m here now. I’ll help you.”
You stared at him, her throat dry. “Please… please stop this,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
His smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “Oh, my dear. It’s already begun.”
Before you could react, he stepped behind you, his hands gripping the back of your chair. The scrape of wood against the floor sent shivers down your spine as he pushed you closer to the remaining man. Your heart pounded wildly, your breaths coming faster.
The man in front of you was shaking, tears streaming down his face as he muttered desperate prayers under his breath. He wouldn’t even meet your eyes, too consumed by his own terror.
Then, you felt it.
Something cold and heavy was pressed into your hand as the ropes on one of your wrists was loosened.
Your fingers instinctively curled around it, but it wasn’t until the suited man’s hands covered yours that you realized what it was. A gun.
“No,” you choked out, trying to pull your hand away. “No, I can’t—”
“Shhh.” His voice was soft, almost tender, as he leaned closer. You could feel his breath against your ear. “You can. And you will.”
He guided your hand, forcing the gun to point directly at the man’s head. His fingers were firm over yours, his grip unyielding.
“Do you know what they would have done to you?” he whispered, his tone darkening.
You froze, her breath hitching.
“They would’ve dragged you to some filthy basement,” he continued, his voice like poison dripping into your ears. “Used you. Hurt you. Made you beg for mercy they would never give. You know that, don’t you?”
Tears spilled down your cheeks as you shook your head, your voice cracking. “Stop—please, stop—”
“And then,” he went on, his voice cold and calm, “they’d toss you aside like garbage when they were done. You wouldn’t have survived the night.”
His words twisted in your mind, planting seeds of fear and rage. You hated him for saying it, hated the sickening truth of it, but you couldn’t stop herself from imagining it. The alley. The men. The terror.
“No one would’ve come for you,” he said softly. “No one but me.”
Your breaths came in shallow gasps. Your hands were trembling so hard that the gun wavered, but the suited man’s firm grip steadied it, keeping it aimed at the man’s head.
“I’ve already done the hard part for you,” he murmured. “Now, all you have to do is pull the trigger. Take your revenge.”
“I can’t…” You whispered, shaking her head. “I can’t do it…”
His expression hardened, his patience wearing thin. “Do you think mercy will save him? Do you think letting him go will make him a better person? He won’t stop, Y/N. Men like him never stop.”
The man in the chair sobbed harder, his voice hoarse with fear. “Please, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’ll leave her alone, I swear—”
“Do you hear that?” the suited man hissed, his voice venomous. “Pathetic. He’s begging for his life, just like he would’ve made you beg for yours.”
Your vision blurred with tears. You shook your head again, but your resolve was crumbling. The suited man’s voice was relentless, worming its way into your mind, drowning out everything else.
“I can’t…” you whispered again, her voice barely audible.
“Don't make me wait, Y/N.” he said sharply, his tone now commanding. His grip on your hand tightened.
Before you could react, he pressed down on your finger, forcing it against the trigger.
The gunshot echoed like thunder in the room.
You screamed, the sound ripping from your throat as the man’s lifeless body slumped in the chair. Blood splattered across the floor and your face, the metallic scent filling the air.
The gun slipped from your hand, clattering to the ground as you trembled violently. Your chest heaved with sobs, your mind reeling.
The suited man straightened behind you, his expression calm and composed, as if nothing had happened.
“Bravo,” the suited man said, his voice slicing through your spiraling thoughts. He clapped his hands together slowly, deliberately, as if you’d just performed a flawless symphony. “You’ve taken your first step toward understanding. I’m so proud of you.”
He walked around to stand in front of you, crouching down to meet your tear-streaked gaze. “You did well, my dear. And don’t worry—I’ll take care of everything.” he said softly, brushing his fingers along your cheek.
You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. You could only stare at him, your entire body trembling with shock and horror.
His fingers gently tilted your chin up so you couldn’t avoid his piercing gaze. His smile was soft, almost tender, but there was something unrelenting in his eyes. “You’re shaking,” he said softly, “That’s natural. The first time is always the hardest. But you did it, my dear. You stood up for yourself. You took control.”
He sighed, as if sensing your silence was not out of gratitude but out of pure, unfiltered shock. Straightening to his full height, his hands moved to the ropes binding you to the chair.
“I’m going to untie you now,” he said casually, as if you were discussing nothing more than an evening stroll. “But listen to me carefully, Y/N.”
His voice hardened, his tone dropping to something sharp and dangerous.
“Do not run.”
Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding violently in your chest.
“I’ll warn you once,” he said in a low, icy whisper. “Not twice.”
The tension in the room was suffocating as he loosened the knots, and you felt the pressure on your wrists and ankles ease. The moment the ropes fell away, your instincts screamed at you to move.
You didn’t hesitate.
The second you were free, you bolted, ignoring the ache in your limbs and the burn in your lungs. You didn’t care where you were going—you just needed to get away from him.
The building was old and labyrinthine, the narrow hallways dimly lit by flickering bulbs. Door after door lined the walls, but every knob you twisted refused to budge. Your breaths came in panicked gasps as you stumbled forward, adrenaline fueling your desperate escape.
Finally, at the end of the hallway, you saw it: a door different from the others. It was larger, its frame sturdier, and unlike the others, it didn’t have the peeling paint or rusted hinges. It had to lead somewhere.
You sprinted toward it, your heart hammering in your chest. Your fingers barely brushed the doorknob when—
Bang!
You were slammed against the door with enough force to knock the breath out of you. A startled cry escaped your lips as you felt a firm hand on your shoulder, spinning you around. Your back pressed hard against the cold surface, and you were face to face with him once more.
The suited man loomed over you, his expression calm but his eyes blazing with a dangerous intensity. His hands rested on either side of you, boxing you in.
“I told you not to run,” he said softly, his voice calm but carrying a sharp edge that sent shivers down your spine.
Your chest heaved as you stared up at him, your pulse racing. “Please—” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Just let me go!”
He tilted his head slightly, studying you with that same unsettling, calculated gaze. Then he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Go?” he echoed, his tone almost amused. “After everything we’ve been through tonight? After I’ve gone to such lengths to teach you an important lesson?”
Your hands trembled at your sides, your fight-or-flight instincts screaming for you to keep struggling, to push him away, to do something. But his presence was overwhelming, suffocating, and your body felt rooted to the spot.
“You can run all you want,” he said softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But you’ll always end up right where I want you.”
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Because you’re mine, Y/N. And I always take care of what’s mine.”
“There’s no running away anymore,” he continued quietly, his tone final, as if it were a simple statement of fact.
Your lips trembled, your voice breaking as you finally managed to speak. “W-Why me?”
He paused, tilting his head slightly, as if your question intrigued him.
“What do you mean, why you?” he asked softly, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your fear bubbling into frustration. “Why are you doing this? Why did you—why did you choose me?”
For a moment, he didn’t answer. He simply studied you, his piercing gaze roaming your face as if searching for something. Then, slowly, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
“Do you remember the day you fell?” he asked, his voice smooth and quiet, as if he were recalling a fond memory.
You blinked, your mind reeling. “What?”
“In the park,” he continued, his tone almost gentle now. “A man running past knocked you down. You fell hard—scraped your hands, tore your jeans.” He chuckled softly, almost nostalgically. “You looked so startled. Like you couldn’t believe the world could be that cruel to you.”
Your heart sank as the memory surfaced in your mind. You remembered it vividly now—a busy afternoon at the park, the sting of gravel biting into your palms, the burn of embarrassment as strangers walked past without a second glance. But one person had stopped.
“You…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “You were there.”
He nodded, his smile widening. “I was.”
“You helped me up…”
“And when I did,” he said, leaning in closer, “I saw something in you. Something different. Something I liked.”
Your chest tightened, your breath catching in your throat. “What… what did you see?”
His eyes darkened, his expression soft yet deeply unsettling. “You looked… lost. Like you didn’t belong anywhere. Like you didn’t even expect someone to help you. And I thought to myself, ‘She’s perfect.’”
Your stomach churned, dread coiling tightly around your chest. “That’s it?” she whispered, your voice trembling. “That’s why you… why you’ve been following me?”
He chuckled again, the sound low and unnerving. “Does it matter?” he said lightly. “I made a choice that day. I promised myself I’d make you mine. And here we are.”
“But…” Your voice cracked, your fear and confusion spilling over. “It could’ve been anyone, couldn’t it? Anyone who fell, anyone who—”
“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, cutting you off. “But it wasn’t anyone. It was you.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, their weight sinking into you like lead. The ease with which he dismissed your individuality, the casual indifference of his reasoning—it was more terrifying than anything else.
“Call it fate,” he said, his tone almost playful now. “Call it chance. Either way, I’m not one to waste an opportunity when it presents itself. And you, my dear… you were an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”
He straightened, his smile softening as his hand brushed your cheek.
Your head snapped up, “So what? You’ll keep me as your prisoner?”
He tilted his head, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Prisoner? No, no. You misunderstand. This isn’t about taking anything from you. It’s about giving you something you’ve never had.”
You stared at him, your brows furrowed.
“You’ve spent your whole life alone, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice low and almost sympathetic. “No friends. No one to lean on. No one to protect you.”
“I saw it the day we met,” he continued, his tone softening. “You were surrounded by people, but you might as well have been invisible. No one cared enough to help you when you fell. No one even noticed. But I did. I noticed you, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ll never stop noticing you. I’ll never stop protecting you. Because you don’t need the world. You don’t need anyone but me.”
You stared at him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His words echoed in your mind, weaving through your thoughts like a siren’s song, drowning out the rational voice screaming at you to fight, to resist.
Your entire life had been spent searching for someone to notice you, to care, to see you. And now, standing before you, was someone who had done all of that—even if it was in the most twisted and terrifying way imaginable.
Your lips parted, trembling as you tried to find something to say, anything that could defy the pull of his gaze, the weight of his words. But you couldn’t. You were tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of being alone.
And for the first time, someone wasn’t letting you go.
“I…” Your voice faltered, barely above a whisper. “I’ll… stay.”
The words tasted foreign on your tongue, and yet, the moment they left your lips, a dark satisfaction flickered across his face. He stepped closer, his movements fluid and deliberate, until he was so close you could feel the heat radiating from him.
“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice low and intoxicating.
“I’ll stay,” you whispered, barely audible, your voice shaking as your walls began to crumble.
His thumb slid across your bottom lip, and his smile softened, though the dark intensity in his eyes remained.
Before you could react, his lips captured yours, gentle at first, as though testing your resolve. You froze, your body stiff, but as his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, something inside you broke. The warmth of his touch, the way his lips moved against yours—it was too much, too overwhelming.
And so, you let yourself fall.
Your hands hesitantly reached for him, gripping the fabric of his suit jacket as you kissed him back, your movements unsteady and unsure. He deepened the kiss, his control unyielding, as if claiming you with every brush of his lips.
When he pulled back slightly, your breaths mingling in the small space between you, he whispered, “You’ll see, Y/N. You won’t need anyone else. Not when you have me.”
A shiver ran down your spine as his hand trailed down your arm, his touch light but deliberate. He guided you gently toward another room which had a completely different atmosphere. A high ceiling decorated by a beautiful chandelier and a king sized bed, neatly dressed.
When the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, you sat down, your heart pounding in your chest as he knelt before you. His movements slow, giving you every chance to pull away.
But you didn’t.
His hands found your thighs, his touch warm and firm as he looked up at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.
“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me show you what that means.”
Your mind screamed at you to stop, to push him away, but your body betrayed you, your hands sliding into his hair as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck.
His hands roamed your body with practiced ease, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment. And as his lips traced a path down your skin, you felt yourself slipping further into his control, your resolve crumbling with every kiss, every touch.
For the first time in your life, someone had made you feel seen, wanted, protected—even if it was twisted and wrong.
And so, as you let him guide you into the dark embrace of his world, you made a silent promise to herself.
You would stay.
For now.
301 notes · View notes
kuebandungs · 8 months ago
Text
Sweet Home Imagines : 01
☆ Lee Eunhyuk x fem!Reader ☆
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Crying.
That's all you could do since two hours ago.
You're too scared. You're alone in this world. In a strange world that you never imagined will become a reality.
"Drink it."
Someone's voice next to you made you look up. With puffy eyes, you looked at him. The man with glasses crouched down to be at eye level with you who was sitting on the stairs.
"You can join the others in the gathering room. I'll ask Eunyu to accompany you later."
He stood up and was about to leave after placing a bottle water next to you. However, you held his hand, causing the man suddenly stop and look at you.
"Can I come with you?" you asked.
You could see that the man was looking at you in surprise. But he quickly neutralized his expression back to normal.
"Okay."
Finally you got up from your place and followed his steps.
When passing through the corridor which is the gathering place for the residents of this apartment, you suddenly look down. You were too afraid to respond to the various looks they gave you.
"Come on."
You only looked up when this man took you into a room with a CCTV monitor screen and an old sofa in the corner of the room.
"This is the CCTV room. No one comes here except me and certain people."
You nodded slightly at his explanation.
"You can rest on the sofa while I do my work," said that man.
Your eyes watch the movements of the man who is now sitting in front of the monitor screen. He looks very focused, as if he immediately forgot about your existence in this room.
Your gaze now looks to the other side. With slow steps you went towards the sofa. You sat and stared blankly at the view in front of you which was the man's back.
As the seconds pass by, your eyes start to feel heavy. You suspect this is the effect of fatigue after a day of running away from the terrible creatures you encounter and also because after all this time you can finally feel the softness of the sofa you're currently sitting on.
Until finally you actually fall asleep on the sofa.
---------------------------------
You didn't know how long you have been asleep, until when you open your eyes you saw an empty room. You stare at the chair which has now been abandoned by its owner somewhere.
You looked down when you realized that there was a plaid shirt covering you. You remember that this shirt is the same as the one worn by the man with glasses before.
"Already up?"
The voice sounded at the same time as someone who had just entered the room.
"How long have I been sleeping?" you asked while changing you position to sitting.
"About 3 hours. It's dinner time now, take it."
"Uh... thanks." You accept the bowl of food from him.
He nodded then walked back to his seat in front of the monitor.
You noticed that his shirt was still in your lap. You cleared your throat slowly.
Your sigh succeeded in making him turn his chair to face you. "Um, this.. is yours?" you said showing his shirt.
"Yes. Just wear it if you feel cold." He turned his chair back towards the screen.
"Who are you? I mean, what's your name?"
Finally, you can ask questions that have been languishing in your head since beginning. Since this afternoon, as soon as you managed to set foot on the ground floor of Green Home Apartment, this man was the first to greet you at the bottom of the stairs. As if he already knew that you were coming. But now you know that this man must have noticed your arrival through the monitor screen.
"My name is Lee Eunhyuk. I was the one who made the announcement yesterday, so that the residents could come to the first floor to protect themselves from monsters."
You suddenly remembered the male voice coming from the building speakers. No wonder he sounded familiar when he spoke.
"Thank you, Eunhyuk," you said smiling sincerely.
"It's nothing. I should be the one thanking you," Eunhyuk replied.
You looked at him confused. "What for?" you asked.
"Thank you for surviving and fighting to get here. I'm really grateful that you're still alive, (Name)."
The curve of your lips is appeared again. Your heart feels warm knowing that someone cares about you. In fact, he is a stranger you have never knew before.
Wait.
Your smile slowly faded, as a question emerged in your head.
"How do you know my name?"
483 notes · View notes
scarletttries · 1 year ago
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Gun Woo NSFW Alphabet (Bloodhounds)
Pairing: Kim Gun-Woo (Bloodhounds) x Reader
Rating: Fluffy Smut
Word Count: 3.6k (!) (turns out I fancy him a lot)
Author's Note: I finished Bloodhounds on Netflix last weekend and have thought of little else but the two bestest bros in the whole Bloodhound world <3 So requests for Gun Woo and Woo Jin are officially open, and since I am genuinely not sure if there's ever been a character on Netflix as attractive as Gun Woo he gets to go first, and a Woo Jin NSFW Alphabet is on its way too (amongst my usual shows content too) :)
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A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
Sweet, loving, gentlemanly Gun Woo would be all about that aftercare. He might not know exactly what he's supposed to be doing at first, but you can guarantee he'll pull you tightly against his chest, muscular arms wrapped around your shoulders keeping your ear pressed against him, listening to his nervous but ecstatic heart hammering in his chest. A man of few words he'll let his body do the talking, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, running his broad hands over you, soothing any aches his firm grip could have left, and smiling down at you with endless warmth and appreciation that he gets to be in this position with you.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Gun Woo has put a lifetime of effort into his body, and he's pretty happy with the physique it's left him with, but in particular he'll love how you make his arms feel. When he gets to squeeze behind you when you're distracted by something and wrap them all the way around your waist, easily lifting you into the air if he wants to steal your attention but doesn't know how to ask for it. The way he can easily cage you against a mattress by placing an elbow either side of your head, or lift you against a wall if he thinks that's what that playful look in your eye is begging for. Even just walking alongside you and feeling you loop your arm through his as a reminder that you're there for him and he's there for you, something his arms can do that doesn't require strength or violence.
Gun Woo will worship every inch of your body, but your hands are where he finds his gaze drifting before he ever has the nerve to hold them. He's never known someone with such a gentle, caring touch, the delicate way you brush a hair from his face or carefully clean him up after a fight, making him wish he had even more scrapes and bruises. As you get closer and find yourself resting a hand on his arm or thigh in a compassionate moment, you'll be able to feel the way he tenses and then melts into your touch, the complete opposite of how people would usually lay their hands on him. And the first time your fingertips skim over his thighs and take his length in your palm he could have sworn he'd never felt better in his life, fighting his fluttering eyelids so he can keep his gaze fixed on how big he looks in your sweet hand.
C= Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
A shy boi through and through, Gun Woo would feel very uncomfortable making a mess with you initially, the thought of filling you with his cum equal parts tempting and unacceptable. But you know from day one that you're Gun Woo's first and you want nothing more than to feel and taste every part of him, so you shrug off his offer to wear a condom, and ride him to the point he spills inside you, seeing his cum dripping out of you and feeling so fucking close to you that he quickly overcomes any worries about it, using his fingers to push it back inside you, knowing now that's exactly where he belongs.
D = Dirty Secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Before you came into his life, Gun Woo was a beacon of restraint and self-control, rarely having a sexual thought or touching himself at all. Now that he knows how perfect it feels to be buried between your legs, to see your sultry smile as you rub him off, to hear you pant and gasp as he tastes every drop of you, he struggles not to think about you all the time. More often that not when you start sleeping over he'll dream of you touching him and wake up with an erection, aching for attention. You can't watch a film settled in his lap without him getting himself all worked up and throbbing for you, desperately hoping you can't feel the drops of excitement leaking through his sweatpants, mortified at his lack of control around you, feeling like a dirty sex pest. He'd never tell you when he's feeling like this, although you'll quickly notice the squirming, and nervous brow furrowing, having to 'accidentally' rub your ass against him until he lets out a pained groan so loud he has to address it. He'd be so apologetic, not realising how hot it is that he's so obsessed with you, and you'd practically have to beg him to let you take care of it, all guilty thoughts finally emptying from his head as you climb knees his knees and take him between your lips, finally giving him some much needed relief.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
Between part-time jobs and his military service, he's never really had the time or energy to put towards having a girlfriend, and Gun Woo's not the one night stand type despite his god-like looks. When he realises you could be the person he finally loses his virginity to, he'd have a very awkward conversation with Woo Jin to get his advice, given he's had slightly more success with the ladies, so he feels a bit more confident about making you feel good. When it comes to it, he'll be clear that you have to tell him what you like and don't, viewing you as the most important interest he's ever had to master, and studying your every reaction to his touch ever so happily until he's a true expert in making you feel amazing.
F = Favourite Position (this goes without saying)
Gun Woo would crave the connection that comes from eye contact and seeing your blissed out expression during sex, so he's probably a big fan of missionary, happy to use his well trained muscles to rock above you for as long as you can take it. He also loves when he has you on his lap, using one strong arm to bounce you up and down while his free hand plays with your clit, watching and feeling you fall apart around him as he kisses down your neck to your chest, wishing you never had to be any further away than this.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Sex isn't something that Gun Woo takes particularly lighting, feeling like it holds a lot of meaning for the two of you since you were his first. You'll have to get used to seeing his adorable happy face in bed though, which sometimes has you giggling as he grins like he's never been so happy every time he undresses you, without fail.
H = Hair (how well-groomed are they?)
Gun Woo keeps himself tidy and clean, wanting you to feel as comfortable with him as possible and to make himself the most appealing to you he can be.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
It's definitely a hugely intimate act for Gun Woo, getting to worship your body and share his with you, to feel closer to you than he's ever felt to anyone. He'll look almost reverent as his hands carefully explore every curve of your skin, your body entirely perfect to the sweet boxer who doesn't seem to realise just how gorgeous he is. He'll love to thread his fingers through yours when he's getting close, lips finding yours greedily as he finally stops forcing his eyes open and lets the sensation of your soft, warm, clenching walls take over.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He wasn't one to masturbate before you came into his life, more than anything just because his mind never really thought of sex much before he realised just how incredible it could be with the right person. But now when he finds himself all worked up by just spending time in your intoxicating proximity, he'll occasionally dive into the shower first thing in the morning and let the sweet thoughts of whatever you two did in his dreams last night fill his head and bring him release, gaining just enough control over himself to go back out and face you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Given how statuesque this man is, it's safe to assume he's got a bit of size kink, loving how big he feels when your perched on his lap or stretched out underneath him. He loves watching his sizeable length slowly slide into you, the way you squirm as he stretches you out, picturing how deep he must reach as he traces a finger down your stomach. He also inadvertently becomes obsessed with cockwarming with you; at first he just couldn't bring himself to pull out of your velvety cunt when he was done, wishing he could just stay inside you all the time, knowing nothing has ever felt that good. And so when you line him up with your entrance as soon as you wake, once you've noticed his pattern of morning excitement, he'll happily slip inside you laying there and peppering your neck and shoulders with kisses for as long as he can take it until he grips your hips and starts rolling them against his, thinking you are a saint for putting up with his insatiable lust for you.
Finally I think it's safe to assume there's a praise kink going on here; tell him he's making you feel good and he'll moan happily against you, tell him he was amazing when he's finally done and he'll be immediately ready to go again, wanting to show you just how amazing he can be.
L = Location (favourite places to do it)
Never one to take much of a risk in this area of his life, you two usually wait until you're safety home to one of your places before you fall into bed together, sometimes only making it as far as a coach or armchair before you need to feel his skin against yours. The one exception to this is when he is convinced to have a drink with the Lil Group Heir at his club and suddenly he knows he can't wait until you get home when you look that beautiful and just smell so perfect. He'll find a private VIP room, and drag you inside, your underwear barely down your legs before his tongue is between them.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Honestly, just being near you is enough to get him on his way to fantasising about feeling you on his fingers. Sometimes the more gentle the touch you give him, fixing his hair, zipping up his jacket for him before he heads out the door, placing the slightest kiss on a bruise to 'help it heal better' and the blood will be flushing to his cheeks and his manhood before he can stop it. He just loves the way you take care of him, so used to being the one to help others, and it makes him want to take care of you right back.
N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
As much as he loves lifting you into his lap or feeling his weight on top of you, Gun Woo wouldn't ever want to really use his strength in the bedroom. The thought of hitting or restraining you would take him out of the safe and loving world you create for him in a life so influenced by fighting, so he much prefers soft, sensual touches that have both of you smiling like fools in love.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
When Gun Woo realises how much of a reaction he can get from you by going down on you, it becomes a must every time he gets you into bed. He lives for the taste of you on his tongue, the feeling of your thighs trembling by his ears as he slips a finger inside you and his tongue laps at your clit, the way you pant his name as you cum for the third time that night before he's even taken his sweatpants off. It feels so good to slip himself inside your soaked pussy that he wants to make you as ready as possible before he finally thrusts inside you.
He's such a selfless sweetheart that he wouldn't ever ask for you to go down on him, always insisting on focusing on your pleasure, and being so painfully hard by the time you're ready that you don't often get the chance to give him head in the early days of your relationship. Eventually on one of the mornings when he's doing a terrible job of pretending he's not throbbing in his pyjama shorts, you'd convince him that you really want to do it for him and he'd relent in his desperation for you, eyes falling wide open as you settle between his meaty thighs and lick a long teasing stripe up his manhood. When he feels you slip him between your lips straight to the back of your throat, it's like his whole body relaxes, every drop of tension melting away, except his balled up fists which fight to make this heaven last just a moment longer. He would finish very quickly, barely with time to warn you, something he immediately tries to apologize for before he sees you swallow his load and give him a satisfied smile that might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. After that, you'll make sure you give him much more attention in the oral department.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Despite his overwhelming strength and agility, Gun Woo much prefers to take things slow with you, wanting to enjoy as much time together as possible and draw every ounce of pleasure from the experience as he can. Sometimes to stop it coming to an end for him too soon, he'll still his hips inside you mid-thrust and bring his hands to cup your face, pulling you in a heartfelt kiss, lips capturing yours for what feels like hours until finally he picks up his pace again, satisfied he can make you cum again before he does.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Once Gun Woo's inside of you, he doesn't want the moment to be over quickly at all, so he doesn't tend to indulge in quickies if he can help it. If you're in the mood and you've got somewhere to be, he'd much prefer to go down on you and ignore his own pleasure, and if the positions are reversed and you can actually get him to admit that he's horny, you'll take the chance to use your mouth on him instead, knowing he struggles to last very long once he feels your tongue on him.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Too much of Gun Woo's life has been dominated by risk and danger for him to find much sex appeal in that, so while he'll happily try a new position for you, he's not one to try anything risky, preferring to focus simply on connection and pleasure.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
At first it's difficult for Gun Woo to last very long inside you because you just feel too incredible and the poor boy can't keep hold of himself for very long. With a bit more practice, like any athlete, he becomes much better at knowing when he needs to slow down or change things up, and now he really could last all night if you wanted him too.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Gun Woo would have never seen a toy in his life if it weren't for you. It's not that he doesn't like them or that he feels threatened, but I think he would want there to be nothing between the two of you, the way his fingers and mouth explore you expertly is more than enough for the two of you in the bedroom.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
His great purpose in life is to please and help you, so Gun Woo's not one for teasing. If you tried to explain it to him you'd be presented with the blankest possible face and asked "why would I want to do that when all I want to do is touch you?" The best you can hope for is him obsessively making you cum on his fingers and tongue over and over again until you literally have to beg him to actually fuck you. On the plus side, you get all the fun of teasing him when he's clearly in the mood but doesn't want to be a bither, wiggling in his lap and 'accidentally' grazing his bulging shorts until he's so achingly desperate he looks like he might cry and finally you can make your move and pretend you've only just noticed.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He's not one to groan loudly or moan over and over, instead you'll get little whimpers when something feels so good he thinks he might fall apart instantaneously. He'll want to sing your praises when you're together, but it usually just comes out in little choked gasps of your name, or short words like 'perfect', 'so soft' or 'too good'.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for this character)
Gun Woo always smiles like an absolute fool when you agree to come running with him in the morning, valuing the precious time together, doing one of his favourite things and being healthy and active with you. He'll always be a gentleman and keep at the pace you set, stopping without complaining when you need a break and claiming that's the speed he would run at anyway. The only time you've ever made him admit he was slowing down for you, you suggested you have a race home at the end of your run. He was all ready to be a gentleman and let you win, until you said if he won your race, you'd join him in the shower when you got home. After a moment of pure stunned shock at your words, his head filling with a thousand sordid images, he was off. By the time you got home, Gun Woo had beaten you there, lit a candle and got the shower running, holding a towel out to you with a bashful grin as you stepped through the front door.
It was his first time in the shower with you, and with the water trickling down your body it was like seeing you naked for the first time all over again, his heart hammering in his chest, feeling wholy undeserving of everything you do for him. That feeling would only grow as you took the time to massage shampoo into his hair, soapy body rubbing against his and you let your hands drift down to his shoulders, massaging the tender flesh under the warm water and hearing breathy pants creep from his lips as the sensations washed over him. As you take his twitching length in your soapy palm, rubbing it over a few times and licking your lips hungrily, he would snap into action, lifting you against the wall until your legs found his waist, making quick work of stretching you out with his fingers until he could finally push himself inside you, the water making him even more sensitive. From that day on, Gun Woo would do everything in his power to never take a shower without you, claiming he needed your help to wash his hair.
X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)
Gun Woo is a greek adonis of a man, every muscle well built from years of training, and it would be safe to assume this towering man has a sizeable package that you might need a bit of time to get used to. Don't be surprised if you can't walk after your first time together, but at least he can carry you everywhere.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Gun Woo is never not yearning for you. It's not just about sex, although the feeling of being deep inside you is something he'll never take for granted, it's about the intimacy and safety and connection in that moment with you. Of Gun Woo being able to make you feel good, while he also feeling amazing himself, like the whole outside world disappears and he is just in his happy place with the person he loves, that sweet dopey grin never leaving his face, no matter how long you're together.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
Years of training means that Gun Woo has more energy and stamina than the average person, so wouldn't necessarily be quick to fall asleep after sex. Instead he takes a lot of joy in feeling you curl up against his glistening bare chest and slowly drift off yourself. He feels so privileged to be the one you feel safe enough to do this with, smiling up at the ceiling as he listens to your gentle breathing and thanks every star in the sky that he found you, and that this is his life now.
***
If you enjoyed this check out my Bloodhounds master list for more Gun Woo!
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thesquidgame · 23 days ago
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Predictable
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Hwang In-ho x wife!reader
Part One Part Two
Summary: Your peaceful married life is disrupted by strange symptoms.
Warnings: ANGST, money issues, hospitals, disease outbreak (MERS), disease symptoms (not MERS), poor working conditions, bad coworker, (implied) understaffed hospitals, panic, health problems, medical condition, neurological symptoms, blood, graphic depictions of medical emergency, vomiting blood, stepping on glass, extended TWs: here
Word Count: 2k~
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Your apartment was dingy and small. It was on the outskirts of Seoul, and your had to take three buses to get to work. But it was alright. Your house was clean, and In-ho came home every day before you and made dinner. Your schedule was a bit more unpredictable. As an ER nurse, you tried whatever you could to get home on time, but mostly, you ended up at work until midnight. 
It was a hectic job, but you were used to it. Unlike some of your colleagues, nothing extreme had happened to you in years, the first and only time being when you were accidentally stabbed with a needle. Still, it was stressful, but In-ho made all of that anxiety go away the second you saw him.
Whenever you came home, your husband would smile, kiss you, and present the delicious dinner he had made you. You would then sit at the dinner table and talk about your days, sometimes for hours, into the early hours of the morning. Then, you would wake up and do it all over again.
Your friends remarked on how boring you and In-ho’s lives were, that there was no real excitement, and that you were just going through the motions. You couldn’t disagree more. You loved going through the motions, and waking up every day knowing what you would do, and that your husband would be waiting for you at home. The predictable joy was your paradise. In-ho would wonder too, questioning if this was what you wanted. He couldn’t imagine how someone like you would want to be with a boring policeman with a 9-5 job. You couldn’t explain it, didn’t need to, you just loved spending time with your husband.
Your wedding was small and cheap, in the worship hall of a local church on a Saturday afternoon. Your family didn’t have the money for a flight to attend, and you couldn’t afford to bring them to you. So, your family was replaced by your friends, and Jun-ho walked you down the aisle.
The reception was in your house, and you and In-ho had stayed up late the night before making food. It was the best day of your life, and your friends and family stayed up late eating in the basement of the church at folding tables.
That night, you and an In-ho made love for the first time (always a gentleman), and as you slept on his chest he promised you that he would do anything for you. Even if he couldn’t give you much in terms of nice clothes, or a nice apartment, he would make you as happy as he possibly could.
In the fifth year of your marriage, both your and In-ho’s careers became enormously stressful. The MERS outbreak in South Korea made your hospital one of the central trauma centers for victims, and In-ho received a promotion, giving him more and more hours away from home.
One day, during a long shift, you almost passed out. The hospital was loud and frantic, and you fell over in the middle of the ER, the voices and lights around you becoming a blur. You only were able to regain focus when a doctor grabbed you by your shoulders and screamed in your face, “Get the fuck up and treat your goddamn patients!” He screeched, the force of it causing spit to fly into your face.
Dazed, you got up and continued treating patients, pushing your brief pass-out back into your mind as just a brief fluke.
Over the next week, you were less and less hungry when In-ho would make food. He would look at you concerned, “Honey, is there something wrong with the food? I thought this soup was your favorite.” 
You offered a weak smile in return, “I love it In-ho, I just don’t have an appetite today. Sorry.”
He smiled back, “All alright, just let me know if I can do anything.”
Work got more hectic for both of you, and moments of exhaustion grew in you more and more, but all could likely be attributed to the stress of the job.
The nausea started a month after the exhaustion. At least once during a shift, you would have to run to a bathroom to throw up. After one especially hard day, where, with still six hours left in you had already thrown up three times, you called In-ho crying.
“In-ho.” You said through sobs.
Nothing else passed your lips, but immediately your husband broke out into a flurry of questions, “Honey, what’s wrong? Is everything okay, did something happen?” You could hear the panic in his voice as clearly as you could see it if he was standing right in front of you.
You didn’t say anything for a minute, just continued crying as you heard In-ho try to interject several times, but each time he stopped himself, waiting for you to say something.
You were just about the explain the situation when you heard someone knock on the door of the bathroom, “Nurse Hwang, are you in there?”
“Yes, I’ll be out in a minute.” You said, your hand shaking as you held the phone.
“We need you out here now, you can’t waste time in the bathroom.” Your coworker said. She was nice, and a recent graduate of college. Her inexperience and fear were evident, and while whatever problem she was facing was likely her responsibility, she would be torn to shreds by your boss if she didn’t do everything right, and you had to help her.
“In-ho, let’s talk when we get home.” You said, forcing your sobs back into your throat.
“(Y/n), wait-” You didn’t let him finish, hanging up now was already hard enough but if you let him talk longer it would only get worse.
The chaos of your shift only got worse and worse, and it was nearly 4 AM by the time you got home. You felt like death itself had risen and slapped you across the face.
In-ho was sitting at the table, his leg bouncing so hard you could feel the vibrations through the floor. “(Y/n), what’s wrong are you okay?!” He said, panic radiating off his skin as he reached up and grabbed your hands, searching his gaze up and down you.
You had called him earlier tonight, hadn’t you? But for some reason, the why just wasn’t there, “I- I called you earlier today, right?”
His brow furrowed in confusion, “yes, you were crying. I’ve been terrified for hours. What happened?”
You looked away from him, “I- I don’t remember.”
“What do you mean, you don’t remember? Honey, what’s going on?” He grabbed your shoulders, out of concern, and you winced away from him.
“Ow, that hurt.” You muttered, rubbing your shoulders.
The fear only seemed to grow in his eyes, “I didn’t grab you that hard I didn’t think. I’m so sorry, are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, it’s just been a long day.” You gave him a half-hearted smile, “can we just go to bed?
He frowned but nodded and gently wrapped you in a hug, “Of course, let’s sleep, and tomorrow we’ll see if you can remember.”
Nothing came to you in the morning, and when you took your shirt off to change into your scrubs, you noticed purple bruises on your shoulders from where In-ho had grabbed you the night before. 
“Honey, is everything all right in there, you’ve been changing for a while?” In-ho called in from the other room.
“Yeah- yeah, everything’s okay.” You put your shirt on, not telling In-ho so as to not upset him. You knew that he hadn’t grabbed you that hard, so you didn’t want to scare him with freak bruises.
In the next month, it became harder and harder to function. Your body constantly felt exhausted and weak and sore, and you almost never had an appetite. Sleep was rare to come by due to a constant itching feeling that would spread over your body.
The world felt blurry a lot of the time, you got more confused and forgetful at work and at home, and your bosses would tear into you more and more. It was difficult to bring anything up to In-ho, his schedule became so busy that you talked less and less, and you didn’t want to stress him out with problems that were likely just caused by a stressful job.
Whenever he would notice something, and ask you what was wrong, it felt like pieces of a puzzle that wouldn’t fit when you were answering. Your responses wouldn’t quite make sense, you would say something a little bit incorrect, or wouldn’t completely answer the question. Both you and In-ho were confused by it, but neither had the time nor energy to prod further.
Everything in your life was falling apart and getting worse and worse, but you felt too dazed most of the time. You couldn’t really think about everything happening, and it all just spiraled out of control.
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In-ho awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of gagging. He stumbled out of bed, wondering if you had eaten something that upset your stomach.
“(Y/n)?” He asked as he walked to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw in front of you. You were crouched down on your hands and knees, a couple of feet in front of the toilet, throwing up. Throwing up near-black dark vomit.
“(Y/n)!” In-ho, in that moment, felt more terrified than he had ever before in his entire life. He ran over to you and crouched down on the ground next to you. Your entire body was shaking, and you kept throwing up. “(Y/n), what’s wrong? What’s happening? What’s going on?” He didn’t know what to do. No amount of disaster or emergency training he had received had prepared him for this moment.
You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. He grabbed you in his arms, and you shook against his chest as he ran out of the apartment. He didn’t put on shoes, or a jacket. A broken bottle his neighbor dropped in the hallway cut his feet as he ran to the elevator, but he didn’t feel it. You were still throwing up on his chest and his fear for you was all he could focus on.
The car ride felt like it lasted hours. You were in the passenger seat, never stopping throwing up. His feet were cut up, and his white shirt was covered in blood.
He parked right in front of the ER you worked in, not pulling into a parking space. He carried you in his arms to the front desk, and all of the staff stared in shock for a brief moment at the sight of their coworker being carried by her husband, covered in blood. Within a quarter of a second that felt like an hour, they all rushed into action.
Someone took you out of his arms and placed you on a gurney, wheeling you into a trauma bay, while blood from In-ho’s feet followed you in a trail. Your eyes opened and shut, and you focused on your husband yelling your name, “(Y/n), (Y/n)!” As his face and voice faded in and out.
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Part two will be out soon!
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urwritethanks · 2 months ago
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Someone said that if this was just a Netflix show he would have ate her out at the ending of EP 2. And let's just say that's what inspired this.
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Anyway, hello 👋🏾 Yes I am shamelessly joining everyone in the excitement for this show. Did I start the show at 11pm? Yes. Did I then proceed to immediately start writing this at 2am? Yes. And you know what? I have no regrets (it's now basically 5am).
This is obviously an interpretation in an alternate timeline/universe. Dont get your panties in a bunch. Also my writing is not perfect. This ended up being longer than anticipated but apparently thats my m.o. I rarely get inspired to write so I wanted to just get it all out. Enjoy!
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The glass shattered as it hit the floor.
Hee Joo could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Her hands were clammy and she felt out of breath.
How could she be so silly? How had she walked into this mess? 'A fire .. my god' she thought. 'Was he hurt?' What if at this very moment he was in the hospital? She'd known since last night something was wrong. She'd felt it in her gut.  That was why she had waited for him. Only exhaustion had allowed her to sleep. Now hours later she wished she had done something, anything. But what could she have done? Everyone saw her as useless. What could she do now? She needed to-
Her thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of the door lock. 'He's here!?' She thought in equal parts shock and relief.
The news in the background continued as he came into view. She was expecting him to be disheveled but she still was not prepared.
His shirt had soot and dirt. His hair looked as though he had been running his hand through it all night. His eyes were red rimmed from lack of sleep. But more than that, they were filled with emotion. She had never seen him.. so affected.
He stalked toward her. Instinctively she stepped back only to come in contact with the table. She almost gasped when his hands found her waist and lifted her to the table. He must have lost his mind last night. In all their years of marriage she could count on one hand the number of times he'd touched her this way.
Her breath was caught in her throat. She stared at him stunned.
"Lately, nothing makes sense" Sa Eon said.
"There can't be a Hong Hee Joo I don't know about."
Hee Joo's brain was not working. She couldn't think straight with him this close. What did he mean?
"I need to find out" he continued, eyes shifting to her skirt "which one is the real one".
She knew. She knew before he moved what he was going to do.
"Right now, you're my only lead. So cooperate."
He reached for her skirt. Lifting it two inches before instinct had her stopping him.
He was really going to do it! Oh my, why had she gotten herself into this situation? How would she keep him from doing this now? When he was so determined. And why was she..getting turned on. Maybe it was how close he was to her. Maybe it was because it had been years since she had been with someone. But she knew the truth was it was his eyes. The way they seemed to be staring into her soul. The way they were showing so many emotions. Anger, confusion, frustration ...lust.
Was she imagining that last one?
"Do you want to take it off, or should I?". He had fisted her skirt. She stared at him chest rising and falling as though all the oxygen was gone from the room.
She didn't know what came over her. Before she could think about it her hand continued where he had left off.
His eyes never left hers the entire time. While a moment ago he was almost desperate, now it seemed as though he had all the time in the world.
She lifted it just enough to reveal what she knew he wanted to see. The material bunching in her lap but still covering her under garment. Slowly his eyes shifted down. Where ever his eyes touched felt like fire on her skin. She saw the moment he found her mole. His jaw clenched  and when she looked down his hand which had fallen beside her leg on the table was balled into a fist.
He exhaled loudly "I see.. so this is the real Hee Joo." His hand lifted. Finger tracing a circle around the mold. She felt that movement deep, her stomach clenching.
She hadn't realized she was holding her breath until his commanding voice said "Breathe". Before she could think she breathe in and out in a huff . God why did she always listen to everything he said?
As she continued to breathe the circles seemed to be getting larger. Covering more area on her thigh. Was she dreaming? She must be because he reached to lift the skirt higher revealing more and more skin. This is exactly what dream Sa Eon would do. Only in her dreams, dreams buried deep down could this be happening.
He only stopped once her centre was exposed. The skin tone underwear was now clearly visible to him. She watched him as his eyes feasted on her. She saw him swallow and he murmured something that even her fine tuned ears did not pick up.
When he reached for her she came back to herself and grabbed his wrist. His eyes found hers. Searching. She must have been doing a terrible job of hiding how much this was affecting her because whatever he saw in her eyes had him smirking and then he leaned forward and captured her mouth.
She gasped into the kiss. Then it was a flash of tongues and breathe. Her mind was spiraling not able to keep up or put into perspective what was happening. Sa Eon kissed exactly how she expected him to.  He directed and she was more than happy to follow his lead. One of his hands found her jaw and he maneuvered her head to deepen the kiss. Her hands found their way around his neck and into his already messy hair. This man was talented. He kissed her as though he was thirsty and she was the last drink of water on earth. He kissed her as though he had been wanting to do this for the last three years. He kissed her as though she was his.
When she broke the kiss, breathing heavy he simply shifted to her neck, her clavicle. The low vee of her shirt allowing him access. Her head fell back as she gave him more room.
Suddenly she felt his fingers on the outer edge of her panties. At the same moment his mouth was doing magical things to a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. She shifted on the table humming as his fingers made their way to her entrance.
"I haven't heard this much sound from you in a long time" he paused whatever he was doing to her neck to say. "Maybe I should have done this sooner".
His finger was now working circles around her clit. Rather than go back to kissing her neck his eyes found hers as she slowly began to lose herself to the sensations. They were having a conversation without words. When his finger entered her she gasped and closed her eyes.
"Look at me" he said. Her eyes fluttered open to find his lit and studying her. He began to move his finger in and out. She bit her lip and her head fell back.
"Look at me" he reiterated. And his commanding tone coupled with a second finger joining the first had her head snapping back up.
"You will watch."
Suddenly his fingers left her and in a swift move he grabbed the waistband of her panties and ripped. Then before she could recover from that his hands moved her thighs further apart and his mouth found her, his tongue hot on her most private place. She was so stunned she didn't have a moment to feel exposed. Then sensation began traveling through her body.
She was getting more and more wet as he continued. His tongue feasting on her sensitive clit then moving to her entrance. The more wet she got the more he lapped, groaning and tightening his grip on her waist. Her thighs began to tremble and with each lap of his tongue she fell a little further under his spell. When his tongue entered her, her hands gave out and she fell to her elbows. Her eyes almost closed until she remembered what he had said. When she looked down she found him watching her as his tongue continued to torture her. She couldn't believe this was happening. How had they got here? Watching her watch him seemed to do something to him, as his onslaught became more ferocious she could only hold on for the ride.
He knew everything about her. He made it his job. Nothing could put all his skills to better use than his wife. And maybe that is why finding out he may not know her like he thought he did these last few days was driving him crazy.
All he could think about was her safety. But more than anything he was angry. Angry that this stranger who had no right to had seen her. Taken her hostage! Had her photo to leer over! It made him feral.
All he had wanted to do after last night's events was set eyes on her. Make sure she was safe. But when he'd seen her all his plans flew out the window. Suddenly he needed to know,  was she his Hee Joo?
Now with his head between her thighs, her hand fisting his hair and those breathy noices she was making (which were quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds) he knew she was.
He loved her taste and the more wet she got, the happier he was. He watched as her eyes glazed over as she gave in to everything he was giving her.  She began to shift her hips now, unconsciously chasing her orgasm. What she didn't know is he would give her anything she wanted.
Now as he watched her, her eyes seemed to be begging him, a tiny furrow in her brows and he was more than willing to oblige. He shifted, his mouth again finding her clit while his fingers entered her again. He pulled, hard with his mouth and thrust his fingers at the same time. Her thighs tightened around his head. He sweeped his tongue from her clit to her entrance a satisfied groan low in his throat. That also seemed to have an effect on her. He picked up the pace his eyes finding her again. Not wanting to miss a moment of her pleasure. He felt and heard the moment she came. Her core quivered and released a rush of moisture. At the same time she gasped loudly and bucked her hips. He knew it was with difficulty that she kept her eyes trained on him. He could swear he saw them get two shades darker.
For several moments she didn't breathe, suspended in the pleasure her body was giving her. He continued his onslaught until she came down. The hand in his hair going slack and a rush of breath finally expended from her. She seemed to sag onto the table. As much as she could anyway as she tried to keep her eyes on him.
He kissed her one last time reverently. When he glanced up he could see the panic and confusion beginning on her face. Her hands went up to cover her face and she laid on the table.
He adjusted her skirt back down to cover her. "Get cleaned up" he said. Knowing if he even tried to talk about or explain this it would go in one ear and out the other.
"I'm going to take a shower; then I'll make you breakfast and we can talk".
She was shaking her head before he was finished.  Her fingers shifting so she could peek through.
He left her like that, making his way to his room to shower. He knew she was even now probably trying to find a way to get out of speaking to him. But make no mistake, he had gotten a taste and he was far from satisfied.
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yuna542 · 1 year ago
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Unwanted Bodyguards
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Pairing: WooJin + GunWoo x Reader
Word Count: 14.4k
Genre: Smut, Fluff, Bodyguards x Reader
Warnings: Smut!, Under 18 DNI!, Swearing, Pet names, voyeurism, cum play, overstimulation, threesome, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, , masturbation, swearing, motions of violence and wounds
Note: FINALLY! I made it! Worked on this quiet a while. I could hardly choose between them, so why not both? Hope you like it and I could meet your expectations. Let me now what you think.
Summary: After a failed assassination attempt is made on you to harm your grandfather Mr Choi, he locks you up against your will for your safety. Even the incredible luxury villa with pool does not lift your spirits as you can no longer join forces with your sister against your grandfather's enemies. And to make matters worse, he also forces two ridiculously hot boxers on you who are supposed to keep an eye on you all the time and protect you. Soon the forced quarantine with the two young men turns out to be more exciting than you expected.
"Shit, I'm gonna kill you! Let me go! God damn it!"
"Yeah yeah. Sure.”
All the tugging and kicking did nothing against Yang-Jun's firm grip. The knife fighter dragged you out of the car you had refused to get out of by yourself only minutes before. Doo-Young stood in front of the car, waiting as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
"Please don't make this harder than it is," he sighed, and you glared angrily at him as the older one tried to hold your hands.
"Why are you going along with this? I can help! You know I can!"
"Orders from the boss," Yang-Jun growled, then grumbled:
"Arms up!"
"What are you doing?" you snapped at him, giving the mansion behind him a disparaging look.
This was going to be your dungeon for the next few weeks. The white walls with black shingle roofs stood out elegantly against the trimmed lawn and box trees in the front yard.
Without hesitation, he yanked your arms up and scanned your body. First your torso, then your hips, down your sides, and finally your legs, where he looked carefully in every pocket of your cargo pants.
"We need to take any weapons from you so you don't do anything stupid," Doo-Young explained, and you leaned against the car they had used to drag you here. When your grandfather's two hit men showed up at the bar you had been secretly observing for days, you knew something was wrong.
Three days ago, you had snuck out of the hospital because Choi would never have let you go off on your own.
"This is ridiculous! Are you into groping young girls Oppa? Let Doo-Young do it, then at least I'll get something out of it!" you said with a typical evil glint in your eyes.
Both of them just snorted and Doo-Young quickly averted his eyes. He'd never been able to handle your flirting, and that made it all the funnier for you.
„Don't worry, you're not my type. I'm not into ungrateful brats", the older one mumbled grumpy as always. You chuckled and looked at him with those devilish eyes.
„I'm everybody's type, right Doo-Young?"
He just sighed overwhelmed, because you were not wrong. In fact you had that thing about you, that let every guy crumble in front of you and beg for even the tiniest bit of attention.
The two of them had not only become your mentors after all these years, but something like friends. They had watched you grow up, rescued you from the orphanage with Mr. Choi, and molded you. That's why they weren't surprised when he pulled out a pistol from your belt, three throwing knives and a baton from the hidden holster on your back.
Yang-jun threw everything into a box on the back seat and looked at you inquiringly.
"Was that all?"
You jutted your chin defiantly and crossed your arms in front of your chest.
"Yes. That was all."
But Doo-Young interfered and turned back to you, arms crossed.
"Back pocket," he said simply, and by then Yang-jun was already whirling you around again and pressing you hard against the car.
Cursing, you bared your teeth as he pulled the folding knife from your pocket and looked at it, shaking his head. Then he tossed it to the rest of your weapons.
"Now she's your problem," he said, turning to his colleague and patting his hands on his pants.
As Doo-Young approached you, you raised your hands defensively.
"Don't you dare put me in that golden cage!" you growled dangerously, but he unceremoniously grabbed you by the hips and threw you over his shoulder.
"I'm really sorry, little one, but the order came from the very top."
Cursing, you slammed your fists on his back, but his grip was so tight that you couldn't do anything. Not only was he one of the best fighters you knew, unfortunately he was also your friend and you didn't want to hurt him.
So he carried you to the entrance, unlocked the door with a key card and an extra code, and didn't let you down until you were in the living room.
Offended, you threw yourself on the big red velvet sofa and pouted.
"Hey, there are worse places to be safe," he said carefully, looking around the luxury mansion. The pool in the backyard glistened through the large windows, and the huge kitchen made quite a impressive impact as well. A spiral staircase led up to the second floor, where your room, a guest room and a dressing room was. As well as another bathroom with a whirlpool and walk-in shower. A fitness area on the patio, huge bookshelves crammed with stuff for years. The house had everything you could want, and yet you just wanted to get as far away as possible.
"Just get out!" you hissed without looking at him, pressing your face deeper into the pillow.
„Traitor..."
"Y/N... You have to understand Mr. Choi. He's worried about you. You got busted and killed three of Myeong-Gil's men. Just a few days ago, you woke up in the hospital. If he gets hold of you, he will not only torture you to get information, but also kill you to harm your grandfather."
Silently, you tried to ignore him. Everything he said was true and yet you hated him for saying it out loud.
"I'm going to leave now. If anything happens, call me! Please!"
You groaned in annoyance and sat up before he could just leave.
"I'll have to. You took away my weapons, after all," you replied, and he was clearly relieved when you stopped looking at him with such hostility.
Then he spread his arms and grinned in amusement.
"Come on. It's going to be okay."
Sighing, you scrambled to your feet and hugged him. Satisfied, he smiled and stroked your back. It was inconceivable to him how such a slender girl had cut down three armed men in cold blood with only a knife. Maybe they had trained you too well.
"Take care of yourselves and let me know if there's anything new" you murmured against his chest, looking up at him pleadingly.
"I promise," he replied, then let go of you again.
As soon as he disappeared through the door and the alarm was turned on, such a loneliness seized you that you trembled. Sighing, you wrapped your arms around your knees and lay on the couch in the huge house. Like a lonely kitten, abandoned in a huge forest.
The very next morning, you heard someone at the door and with a glance at the camera, you scrunched your face. Mr. Choi, Hyun-Ju and two young men were standing in front of it.
Astonished, you let them in and greeted your grandfather briefly before wrapping your sister in your arms.
"Shit, when you disappeared from the hospital, I thought something bad had happened to you," she said, hugging you a little tighter than necessary.
As soon as you got your breath back, you went ahead into the living room, where you took your seats. Except for the two young guys. They seemed to be a little older than you and both of their eyes almost fell out of their heads as they looked at the mansion from the inside. They elbowed each other excitedly in the sides like little kids, yet they remained silent.
"Is your shoulder better?" asked Choi worriedly, eyeing you intently.
You were wearing sweatpants and a cropped top under which the white bandage peeked out.
"It's not that bad. Who's that?" you asked directly, pointing at the two men.
Hyun-Ju raised her eyebrows meaningfully and stared at the ground, as if she knew what was coming next.
"Those are two young men I trust very much," the old man began, and you frowned.
"I'm Gunwoo," said the one who had shoulders so broad you could hide behind him. He had warm eyes and a really adorable face. Then the other one bowed as well:
"My name is Woojin, nice to meet you."
He too was unnaturally attractive. Curly hair, a sharper face, higher cheekbones and mischievousness in his eyes. They seemed completely different and yet they harmonized without saying a word.
"What's all this about?" you asked without answering them, looking to your grandfather. Both of them eyed you inconspicuously and looked at each other in surprise. Neither of them had expected such a young and attractive lady when they agreed to the job.
"I am worried about you. This mansion has not yet been discovered by Myeong-gil. But if he finds you here, I want you protected. These two men will do that job. They will be your bodyguards."
Stunned, you jumped up and stared back and forth between him and the boys, as if waiting for someone to break up this bad joke.
"What, no! I don't need bodyguards. No way! Those two aren't going to follow me all day!" you shouted a little louder than you meant to and looked to Hyun-Ju. You searched for any kind of help in her gaze, but she just shrugged apologetically.
"This is not negotiable. They will move into the guest room until this is all over!"
Mr. Choi's tone brooked no argument, and you pressed your lips together, seething with anger.
"They are for your protection. You almost got killed! It's not a bad thing!" your sister said and you slowly shook your head.
"You mean they are here to prevent me from leaving and to keep an eye on me?"
You didn't get an answer to that. Stunned, you snorted and looked at them again. Yes they were damn good-looking, trained, and if you ran into them in a club or bar, you would have had your fun with them for sure.
"We're boxers and used to fighting. We can protect you if it's necessary," Gunwoo said then, almost seeming to wince under your piercing gaze.
The way they looked at you, wide-eyed and trying to hide their staring wandering up and down your body, gave you naughty ideas. Maybe this whole thing could get pretty interesting after all.
"All right... I don't have a choice anyway," you muttered, and that's when your grandfather exhaled in relief.
He said goodbye shortly after and at the door your sister said a little louder than necessary:
"Don't devour them both at once."
You grinned knowingly and she just smirked. Hyun-Ju knew very well that they both suited your taste and she also knew that hardly any man would last longer than 24 hours near you without weakening.
You were self-confident, a flirt and loved attention. You also knew how to use your advantages and how to wrap men around your finger.
As soon as the old man and Hyun-Ju disappeared, you turned to the boys and put your hands on your hips. That's when you also spotted the suitcases they had smuggled in with them.
"What are your orders?"
"Orders?" asked Gunwoo meekly, and you rolled your eyes.
"What did grandfather tell you to do? Are you here to watch me? Report to him on my daily routine?"
Gunwoo looked like a scared bunny by now and you doubted his ability as a fighter a little. At least if his biceps weren't twice the size of your head. Woojin stepped in and smiled charmingly.
"He just asked us to watch over you and keep an eye on you so nothing would happen to you of course."
"So you're supposed to spy on me all the time?" you asked, walking past them into the living room. They followed you up to the second floor with their bags.
"Uh no. We're supposed to stay close to you, but we don't have to watch you... like… All the time", Gunwoo mumbled a bit overwhelmed.
"We're not stalkers or perverts or anything," Woojin quickly added.
"We didn't even know you were so young and.... and looking like...", Gunwoo stammered, obviously lacking the right words.
That's when you glanced over your shoulder and when your eyes met, no sound at all passed his lips anymore. Woojin jumped in and put a hand on his shoulder:
"We didn't know you were a young pretty lady. Hyun-Ju told us you were hot-tempered and dangerous to men..."
Gunwoo elbowed him in the side and gave him a warning look but you smiled knowingly with your back to them. This was going to be fun.
Hyun-Ju was not your biological sister. Like you, she was from the same orphanage, and the two of you had been inseparable since the day you saved her from an older bully by stabbing a fork through his hand.
Through her, you eventually came to the attention of Mr. Choi. He was quickly taken with your courage and emotionality, which is why he adopted you as his own flesh and blood, just like Hyun-Ju.
But unlike her, he could not keep you under control. You learned how to use weapons from his best assassins and as soon as Myeong-Gil reappeared, you were the first to spy on him. Your sister soon joined in and one thing led to another until you stupidly ended up in the hospital.
You opened the door to the guest room and stretched out your arm invitingly.
"This is for you. We only have a kingsize bed, but I think that will be enough."
The two looked around the room in amazement, Woojin directly pawing at the decoration in the form of scrolled sculptures and both of them seemed unaccustomed to such luxury. If they worked for Choi they were probably poor wretches from the street in his debt.
You leaned against the doorframe and looked at the two of them.
Gunwoo's smile was really cute and Woojin had that attractive charisma of a daredevil. They both made a nice sight and so at least you wouldn't get bored anytime soon.
"My room is right next door.... If you want to stop by," you said and they both froze and looked at you questioningly. As you grinned in amusement, you could see that they were both breaking out in a sweat.
You were making them nervous.
After all, they already agreed without words that they had never seen a prettier girl. Your long lashes framed your mysterious eyes and your body stood out softly under the fabric of your loose clothes. Likewise your features were engaging and the beckoning smile on your red lips was beguiling.
"I'm going to order some food. Do you like pizza?" you asked and they both nodded quickly.
Then you left them alone to get settled.
As soon as they heard you on the stairs, Woojin whirled around to Gunwoo and stared at him meaningfully.
"Dude!"
"She's hot..."
Gunwoo swallowed emphatically.
"Yeah, but she scares me."
"Hell yes. She's scary!"
The next morning, you had almost forgotten that the two boxers were still here, but when you saw Woojin already sitting on the patio with a coffee in his hand and Gunwoo standing by the punching bag, you sighed softly.
"I see you found the punching bag..." you said and both heads flew in your direction.
You were wearing a sports bra and tight leggings that showed your round curves underneath. You put down the yoga mat you were carrying rolled up under your arm and tied your hair in a high ponytail.
"Good morning," Gunwoo greeted you and you eyed him not exactly inconspicuously.
He was shirtless and sweat glistened on his remarkably defined muscles. He looked really really sexy with the bandaged fists, the focused expression on his face. So now you got a much better picture of the boxer.
Woojin was waving air at himself and had probably exerted himself on the punching bag just before.
At your glance to Gunwoo, he also pulled his shirt over his head and you grinned slightly as he stretched emphatically and also presented his muscles.
"Did you sleep well boss?" he asked, propping his elbows on his knees as you stretched.
"Yes. It's nice not to have to sleep in the hospital bed anymore. How about you guys? Do you like it here?" you asked, and as you stretched to loosen your muscles and tendons, Gunwoo flopped down next to Woojin on the cream-colored couch and they both watched your elegant movements.
"It's incredible. I've never been in a mansion like this," Gunwoo said in awe and Woojin nodded in agreement. How cute.
"You can make yourself some breakfast in the kitchen," you said and started your work-out.
They both looked at each other silently and then disappeared inside. There, Woojin leaned against the counter and looked at Gunwoo:
"This is insane..."
Gunwoo nodded and prepared sandwiches with ingredients he found in the refrigerator.
"There's a huge tub with jets in the bathroom!"
"I think it's called a whirlpool," Gunwoo smirked ironically, as Woojin mimicked his know-it-all manner mockingly and stuck his head into the fridge. However, he found only healthy vegetables, fruits and little meat. Astonished, he glanced at Woojin, whose gaze was transfixed on something behind the window.
"She seems to be eating very healthy. Takes care of her body, I guess."
"I can tell..." his buddy replied, and that's when Gunwoo got curious. He placed the toasts on the sideboard and stood next to him to also get a look at what had him so enthralled.
"Look at this... Would you have expected that?" asked Woojin, and Gunwoo's eyes nearly fell out.
You sprawled elegantly on the mat, stretching until you landed loosely in the splits. With your back to them, they had a perfect view of your body and especially your ass. Sensual curves paired with toned muscles without losing your femininity.
You were steaming hot and under those tight gym clothes, they could easily imagine what you would look like without them.
"No... Not in a thousand years. With that view, I'll never complain about getting up early again."
They watched you for a while through the big window doing different yoga exercises and both of them automatically imagined how you would feel under them. All flexible, with the slim waist and round breasts.
The next few days did not get any easier for them.
Often you caught their eyes wandering longer along your curves, holding their breath as you pushed past them in the kitchen, your butt grazing their crotch, your fingers touching their arms, or you accidentally brushing along their shoulders while passing by.
It was fun to tease them and with each passing day they became more restless. By the third day at the villa, your head was nearly bursting.
No call, no message from Hyun-Ju or Choi. There was complete silence and that was important, but it drove you crazy to be without knowledge of what was happening in the outside world right now. Myeong-Gil was dangerous and the thought of something happening to your family and you not noticing anything because you were stuck in that luxury hell was horrible.
Besides, your wound was almost completely healed, you were more flexible again and you got bored and that was even more dangerous.
One evening you were sitting on the couch, stretching and trying to loosen the bandage that was wrapped around your shoulder, but no matter how much you twisted around, you couldn't get it off. Woojin watched this for quite a while and then poked Gunwoo hard in the side, who looked up from his cell phone, startled. Woojin pointed his chin in your direction and pushed him toward you meaningfully.
"Do you need help?" he asked then, and you glanced at him briefly before exhaustedly blowing a strand of hair out of your forehead.
"That would be nice," you murmured, even if it scratched your pride.
He moved closer while Woojin watched you curiously.
"Can you just loosen the bandage and take it off?" you asked, turning your back to him. He nodded, taking in your flowery scent that surrounded them the whole time and played with the guys senses. You pulled your shirt over your head and held it in front of your bare breasts. Woojin, who was sitting across from you, quickly turned his gaze to the floor. That you had no sense of shame was something he would probably never get used to. You always ripped your clothes of before going in the shower, without a second thought about him being also in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He would also never get used to your body, which he wanted to look at all the time and trace every line with his fingers.
You smirked and Gunwoo exhaled loudly before tampering with the clamps with shaky fingers, carefully loosening them and beginning to roll the bandage off your arm, shoulder and torso.
"How did this happen?" he asked into the silence, trying to drown out the nervous tingling in his fingers stroking your soft skin and Woojin's nervous foot tapping. "Myeong-gil somehow found out that I was a spy.... I had snuck into his place, been a spy among his people, but before I knew it, I was exposed. His goon and three men ambushed me in my apartment."
"Shit," Woojin gasped, looking at you now after all, full of enthusiasm.
"Three of them I was able to take out with my knives.... Kang In-Beom I didn't manage. He plunged my own knife into my back from behind and left me to die. If it hadn't been for Hyun-Ju, I would have bled to death there," you recounted, and both of you could see how you shuddered at the memory of the pain, the adrenaline of the fight, and the fear for your life.
Gunwoo had removed the bandage and was looking at the stab wound on your shoulder blade, which by now gave off a red scar, too fine for the act of cruelty with which it was forced on you.
They were equally surprised and awed that the girl before him was so different from what she seemed after all.
"You have also had experience with the gorilla and his master?" you asked, pointing to Gunwoo's scar that ran across his jaw and was not unlike the one on your back. Then you pulled your shirt back over your head.
Gunwoo nodded slowly:
"Myeong-gil trashed my mother's cafe and gave me the scar. He brought ruin to my family and Mr. Choi saved us. For that, I am eternally grateful to him."
The loyal expression in his eyes and the strength, the indomitable courage they both exuded was refreshing. Attractive.
"Yes, he is always like that..." you murmured, tilting your head slightly as you raised your hand. You expected him to flinch, but he just looked you serenely in the eye as you ran gentle fingertips over his scar.
"It suits you. Our scars remind us about what's really important."
The boys were always amazed by you anew. Behind the tough, intelligent facade was a deep, emphatically girl who made an impression on both of them.
They admired you, were soon crazy about you. You also liked to be around them, to be looked at, to glare at them when they weren't looking.
Just playing with the boxers, like with small dogs, embarrassing them or making them nervous was not enough anymore.
So you decided to leave. You had already escaped from the hospital, so the ivy-covered wall around the estate was not a problem, was it?
Without thinking much about it, at noon you headed for a place in front of large stones that served as decoration around the pool.
You swallowed hard as you looked up. It was at least twenty feet you had to climb.
You had told the boys that you wanted to take a bath and therefore needed your privacy. They hadn't questioned it and Gunwoo had just rushed out of the bathroom with a red head when you just started to undress in front of him.
You had snuck past Woojin, who was doing push-ups and lifting weights in the living room, just like every morning. The guys were working out so much that you feared an apocalypse was coming. However, you didn't complain about the sight. Quite the opposite.
Confidently, you grabbed an ivy vine and pulled yourself up until you found a foothold with one foot. Just as you were about to pull yourself higher, you lost contact underfoot and felt two strong hands on your hips, plucking you from the wall like a ripe grape.
A startled squeak escaped you and you tried to free yourself from the tight grip by kicking.
"Let me go right now!" you yelled, and Gunwoo set you back on the floor, but not without pressing you firmly against his chest.
Cursing, you resisted, trying to shake off his hands until he wrapped both arms tightly around your torso and you barely had room to breathe.
"I'm really sorry, but we can't let you go. This is for your own safety!" he pressed out strained as he pulled you away from the wall.
Snarling and flailing like a cat gone wild you tried to move his arms away, Gunwoo looked around frantically for Woojin, who had already rushed across the yard to help.
"Stop that right now! You're both fired!" you shouted and a desperate yelp escaped you as Woojin tried to grab your wrists.
"I'm pretty sure you can't fire us," Woojin said and you tried to fight off his hands.
Together they tried to drag you back to the house where the big canapés were lined up.
You were startled yourself when in the heat of the moment you hit Woojin on the lip with your fist, but he didn't even flinch, instead pressing your hands against your body, his chest pressed tightly against yours.
You could see blood flashing at his mouth and tried to ignore your guilty conscience. Still, your resistance weakened a bit. Your muscles were already burning from the tension.
Finally, they managed to throw you onto the cream-colored canapé with the red cushions and before you could jump up, Gunwoo pounced on you and pinned you with his massive body underneath. His hands pressed your wrists firmly into the mattress next to your head and he was between your legs, so you couldn't even begin to fight his weight.
"Stop that! It's no use!" he said, and that's when you paused for a moment. Angrily, you glared at him and stared him straight in the eye.
"You guys are really pissing me off! Just let me go!"
Gunwoo sighed loudly and braced himself so he wouldn't hurt you with his weight. Like a wall, he cut you off from the outside world, and only when your pulse calmed down again did you begin to realize what position you were in.
Silently, he watched you, perplexed, as a strand of hair fell into your eyes, as the strap of your top slipped off your shoulder, revealing your white lace bra. He felt your soft body under him, your breasts, how they nestled against his chest and how your skirt had slipped up.
Directly he became insanely hot and indecent thoughts crept into his head.
"What are you going to do now?" you asked sharply, blinking at him through your thick lashes. He was even more handsome up close and you could feel his hard abdominal muscles against your body.
"Wait until you calm down and promise not to run away again."
You sparkled at him and jutted your chin a little. As you spoke, his warm breath brushed against your face and his eyes wandered aimlessly across your face.
"Why would I do that?"
"Because Mr. Choi will kill us if you don't."
The two of you were silent for a few seconds until the patio door opened and Woojin came back out with a cloth pressed against his bloody lip. You hadn't even noticed that he had disappeared, so focused were you on each other.
Gunwoo made no effort to move, and when his gaze fixed on your lips, you smiled slightly.
Teasingly you stretched your pelvis towards him until your middle brushed against his crotch and he noticed that your dress had ridden up so high that your panties were visible. However, you didn't seem to mind. His grip loosened on your wrists and his cheeks flushed as you felt a glint of it, causing arousal to shoot between your legs.
Your pretty face with deep-set eyes drove him crazy and he automatically had to imagine what it would be like to fuck your brains out in that position. Hearing your moans as he thrusted into you.
"You know I like it rough, right?" you mumbled and Woojin swallowed loudly.
"...Excuse me?"
Gunwoo looked completely overwhelmed, but his body's reaction spoke volumes. You rolled your hips at him again and this time he clearly felt your cunt against his now hardening dick.
"Well, considering the position we're in, I think we can take advantage of that, no?"
He exhaled loudly and let go of you.
Head flushed and clearing his throat, he turned away and sat down next to you. Seeking help, he looked at Woojin, who just stared at you.
Then he pressed a pillow to his middle and mumbled a curt apology before disappearing into the house.
Amused, you tilted your head and brushed your dress back into place.
"Is he always this uptight?" you asked, and to be honest, you wanted them even more now.
Woojin swallowed and then put on a grin.
"With beautiful women, you can sometimes lose your composure."
"Charming," you replied, stroking his shoulder as you passed, which made him freeze.
Then you settled down next to him on the couch and took the cloth from his hand.
Carefully, you dabbed at his lip, leaning against his bare chest as you did so, and said in a honeyed voice:
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
He held your wrist tightly, thus catching your gaze. The amber of his eyes was streaked with golden speckles. He was stunningly beautiful, too, and his muscles tensed under your fingertips.
"Half as bad. As a boxer, I'm used to worse."
You gazed at him through your thick lashes and as he took the cloth from your hands and leaned forward to set it aside, your gaze traveled over his broad shoulders and the muscles on his back that were tensing.
You noticed the tattoo on his back and touched it with feathery fingertips.
"You served?" you asked curiously, and he shuddered as you stroked along the lines. His entire body tingled as you leaned against him and he felt your tits against his torso.
"Yes. You know about this sort of thing?" he asked incredulously. You smiled slightly and ran your fingers over the tattoo.
"Not really. But I'm interested. It's hot..."
Woojin's eyes lit up and his enthusiasm was contagious.
"Do you have a girlfriend or Gunwoo?" you asked then, and he stumbled over his words:
"No... There's not much time besides boxing."
You nodded and ran your fingers down his shoulder, over his biceps, to his inner arm. He watched how you bit your lip and wanted to touch them.
"As bloodhounds, it's hard to find someone?"
He tracked your movements, fidgeting restlessly. He wanted to grab you, kiss you to know what your lips tasted like, and he wondered if you would still look so confident stuffed with his cock.
"We're not bloodhounds."
You raised your eyebrows, wandered your fingers over his palm, and rested his hand on your thigh.
"You work for my grandfather, you're my bodyguards.... He would never hire any men off the street. If you're not bloodhounds yet, you will be soon."
Woojin pressed his lips together, slowly closing his hand around your inner thigh, just centimeters from where you actually wanted to feel his long fingers. Sighing, you leaned forward a bit, placing a hand against his chest until he had a good view down your cleavage.
"What did he tell you to do? What are the rules?" you breathed, and Woojin increasingly lost his self-control. His hand closed tighter and tighter around your thigh and you could see him struggling with himself.
"Don't let you out of our sight. Protect you with our lives. No touching." he enumerated the rules Choi had drilled into them, and now he finally understood what Hyun-Ju had warned them about. When she talked about you being dangerous, cunning, and a temptation, he hadn't believed her. But now he could hardly stop himself from pushing you down on the couch and ripping your clothes off.
He wanted your sweet voice moaning his name and touching you everywhere he shouldn't.
You nodded slowly. Of course Choi had ordered them not messing around with you. He knew you and your charm too well. You had a temper. You were uncontrollable. Everyone was afraid and enraptured by you at the same time.
"What if I want to touch you?" you whispered in his ear and he sucked in a sharp breath.
Agonizingly slowly, you let your fingers travel down his stomach, to the waistband of his pants. Your lips brushed his jawline and his hand wandered up your leg. The temptation was too big and he struggled with himself.
"He'd kill us..." he whispered with the last bit of resistance he could muster.
He... Your grandfather knew you well enough to know that one stupid rule wouldn't stop you from asserting your stubbornness.
"What if I want you to touch me?," you continued, pressing your thighs together so he could feel the heat between them on his hand, trapped just finger-widths away from your cunt.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, he furrowed his eyebrows in agony, and you wanted to fall to your knees to see if he looked as stunned when you took his dick into your mouth.
But before you could slide your fingers into his waistband, you stood up and left him sitting there, dumbfounded.
Gasping, he also pressed his hand between his legs as you disappeared into the house. It was a game for you and you were the master at it. Like chess. You were the queen. The boxers were your pawns, the pawns with which you passed your time, and both had to admit that they liked it more and more to walk for you on the board.
You retreated to your room for the rest of the day, until in the evening you resigned yourself to not getting out of here anytime soon.
The next few days your games became more and more dangerous and both Gunwoo and Woojin expected you to lose their mind every time you came into the room in skimpy pants, a dress that barely covered your breasts or skirts that showed glimpses of your underwear.
You made the time in the villa so much more interesting and they caught each other raving about you, losing themselves in mind games, only to be jilted in the end.
The danger surrounded you like the smoke of a cigarette and yet it was so seductive that Gunwoo did take a peek through the crack of the open door of the bathroom when you went to shower. He hated himself for it, but his curiosity and dirty desire to see more, to not always be kept at a distance, overwhelmed him.
He opened the bathroom door just enough to peek and catch you slipping out of your clothes.
He saw through the crack how you took off your skirt, threw away your top and looked at yourself in the mirror only in your underwear. He felt disgusting, but the line of your thighs as they merged into the perfect curve of your ass made him pause until you took off your underwear too. The way your tits spilled out of your bra when you undid the clasp made his cock hard in an instant and only when you turned on the water in the shower and faced the door did he tear his eyes open in shock and twirled away, pressing his back against the wall next to the door and gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached. Gunwoo never been more thirsty in his life. Although he should just leave, he risked one more look. Just one last one. He wanted to suck on your skin, let his tongue lap up the water that dripped from your nipples, trickled down your calves. Your back is sexier than he realized, the slope of your spine incredibly pleasing to the eye, especially as you began to lather up your soft skin with the shower gel.
His pants were uncomfortably tight and he wanted to slap himself.
As soon as you walked past his room, wrapped in steam with only a towel around your body, a soft sound made you freeze.
The strained gasp came from the boys' room and you dared to look through the crack of the open door, which had hastily not been closed properly.
You recognized Gunwoo's broad back on the bed, muscles straining to him jerking his cock off, sighing your name. Your lip twitching up as fast as you clenched your legs together.
Another time you tried to take a cup from the top shelves in the kitchen. However, you were too short and the modern cabinets were placed way too far up. When Woojin saw this, he came to you, stood behind you and enveloped you in a shadow as if a tree had grown out of the ground right behind you.
He took out the cup and held it out to you, but you made no move to take it. You glanced coquettishly over your shoulder, leaned back a little until your ass was pressed firmly against his crotch and said:
"Thank you. Very thoughtful."
Immediately all color drained from his face and he grabbed your hip with his other hand to prevent you from making his dick even harder by wiggling your butt.
"It's all right," he dismissed it and wanted to flee, away from your seductive body and mesmerizing eyes.
But you turned, looked up at him through those long lashes you could swat flies with, and smiled sweetly:
"What do you think of the top? It's new, but I'm unsure if the color suits me."
Although you looked innocent, everything in him screamed trap! Still, he dropped his gaze and took a rattling breath as he clearly saw the curve of your breasts through the thin, almost transparent lilac material nestling to your body and your nipples forming little mounds on the fabric.
"It's pretty. Very pretty..." he stammered, trying to resist the urge to push the stupid thing up and hold your breasts in his hands.
He had big hands and they would fit perfectly.
As soon as the heat made him hard again, he watched you go, teeth gritting and jaw flexing as he lusted over how smoothly you walked away. You had to know you drove him crazy, that you were so beautiful and just out of reach that it made him want to crush the mug in his hand. Before Gunwoo could ask him, if he wanted to help him work out, he disappeared into the bathroom, with the excuse that he still had to shower.
Instead, he tried to get rid of his hard-on by ignoring it or even silently praying for it. But when he made the mistake of looking through the window, which offered a direct view of the pool and the loungers in front of it, an incredulous sigh escaped him.
You were just lying down in the sun, in the top and short skirt that accentuated your long legs. With big sunglasses on your nose, you tied your hair in a bun and to his horror, you unceremoniously pulled your top over your head. Your breasts in the bright sunlight looked soft and Woojin couldn't look away. As if caught in a curse, he stared at your body as you made yourself comfortable on the lounger, slipping out of your skirt and tanning only in black panties.
A wave of heat flashed in his gut, one that told him he was doing something wrong, that he should look away. He wasn't a pervert who secretly stalked women, though it was really hard not to look at you when you were prancing around in front of their noses all day. He shook his head, looked at himself in the mirror and mumbled a few curses. Fresh, hot blood flowed straight between his legs, made his dick thump against his lower stomach, the flushed tip peeking out of the waistband of his boxers.
Then he looked out again, eyeing the lines of your thighs as they converged between your legs, and as he pulled his now rock-hard dick out of his shorts, he tried to block out the accusing voice in his head.
Your skin glowed like the skin of a peach and he wondered if the tan-lines were as lighter where the panties were as they were around your breasts.
He wanted to touch your nipples, no he was so desperate, he wanted to take them in his mouth, suck on them and kiss you until you begged for him to fuck you. The fat of your boobs looked so soft, plush, and he imagined the weight of one in his palm as he started to stroke his cock. The sight of you naked and unaware made his head go fuzzy, garnet eyes glazing over as he shoved his boxers into the floor and kicked them away.
His cock laid heavy and demanding in his hand as he palmed himself to the sinful thoughts.
He sped up, imagining you kneeling on all fours in front of him and him slamming into you from behind, your pussy sucking him in, gripping him way better than his hand could. The naughty fantasies played like movies in his head and didn't let him go anytime soon. He gasped overwhelmed, imagining your naked body under his, stretched out just for his satisfaction. When you turned onto your stomach, he had to brace himself against the wall, panting. He had been plagued by images of you since day one, as if trying to burn the curves of your naked body into his memory. He loved how round your ass looked like this, how the length of your thighs begged for his hands to reach into each one. His fingers longed to feel soft skin between them, to sink into flesh and pull you back against him. His orgasm felt dirty, sultry, a long strand of ecstasy pulled from his cock and dripped onto his hand, splattered on the windowsill.
He cleaned it all up, put his pants back on, and tried to forget what he had done.
Meanwhile, you slid the sunglasses on your head and smiled slightly as Woojin's curly head disappeared out the window.
You made life harder for the two of them with every hour that passed.
Always the treat in front of their eyes, but they didn't dare to grab it. Yet.
The boxers were way, way too curious about you since they entered the luxury villa. Not to mention it was still late summer, so they caught you making dinner or doing yoga in the tiniest shorts and prancing around with no bra, nipples always hard and tempting from the breeze of the air conditioner.
It was way too much fun for you, however, you also became impatient. All this was soon not enough.
It was already dark and the round lanterns in the garden bathed everything in a pleasant orange light. Together with the blue of the pool, it made a dreamlike contrast. Woojin and Gunwoo were sitting on the loungers and talking quietly, but when you appeared, the conversation stopped and they looked at you attentively.
As soon as you took off your bathrobe and stood in front of them in just a sinful piece of bikini, Woojin clawed at Gunwoo's leg. They examined every little movement you made, the way you cocked your hip, how you cupped one of your breasts as you turned to them while you got into the water.
"Do you want to just watch or join?" you asked, letting yourself slide into the deeper water. They looked at each other, puzzled, and Gunwoo said:
"I don't know if we're allowed to..."
"What if I drown? Don't you have to protect me from drowning? You can't do that from there."
They looked at each other, not sure what to do, and before you waited any longer, you poured a gush of water over the edge of the pool, hitting them both. Startled, they jumped up and you giggled as your attack left them dripping and soaked.
When they heard you cackle so gleefully, something playful entered their gaze.
"Are we going to let this pass?" asked Gunwoo and Woojin shook his head, coming to the edge of the pool, but before he realized, Gunwoo had seized the golden opportunity and pushed him into the water from behind.
Woojin, however, clung to his arm in a flash and pulled him along. Gunwoo frantically rowed his arms, but it was all to no avail as they hit the surface of the water next to you with a loud splash.
Drops of water splashed you completely wet and you held your hands in front of your face. When they resurfaced, Woojin coughed, Gunwoo rubbed his eyes, and you held a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.
As Woojin tossed his hair out of his face, he fixed you and pulled his wet shirt over his head in one fluid motion. At the sight of his trained body, you raised your eyebrows slightly and bit your lower lip, however, as he walked up to you and muttered:
"Well now you're laughing!"
You tried to run away squealing. However, he caught you and splashed water on your face, though in the process he also hit Gunwoo, who also began to tussle with him. He tore off his shirt and threw it to the edge before grabbing Woojin and wrestling with him.
You were laughing like little kids, splashing water at each other, and you felt more free and like yourself than you had in years.
The sound of your bright, high-pitched laughter as Gunwoo dove between your legs, lifted you up and threw you into the water with a loud splash was like music to the boys' ears.
You wrestled for quite a while, holding each other, pulling your legs away and dunking each other under the water until you could take no more.
Your heart was light, the water pleasantly cool, and the boys' hands firm on your soft skin.
You finally landed between the two of them. Woojin had his arms wrapped around your belly, pressing you tightly to his chest, Gunwoo grabbed your wrists, pulled you to him and held you by the waist. You paused in the position, breathing heavily. You brushed a wet strand of hair out of your eyes and you suddenly realized how close you were. You looked up at Gunwoo, who had a sweet smile on his lips, Woojin's arms were tight against your stomach and you leaned against him. You shook your head, unable to tear your eyes away from him. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, and your heart raced in anticipation.
"Do you really want to fight us?" asked Gunwoo with a smirk, your skin tingling excitedly. Woojin tried not to look down too long at your ass pressed against his crotch and instead pinched your sides playfully.
"Maybe she has a chance," he said, and you tilted your head a little, like a curious cat.
"I think you can use those strong arms of yours to do plenty of other things with me," you replied, delighting in the stunned reactions. Gunwoo froze and looked a lot like one of those greek statues of a god and Woojin's grip on your hips tightened.
With a silky voice and seductive aura, you took Gunwoo's hands and slowly guided them up your sides.
"Or is that not what you want?" you asked, as if asking his opinion on his choice of ice cream.
Gunwoo could no longer take his eyes off your slender fingers guiding his hands along your curves.
"Or this?" you asked, placing his large hands on your breasts.
In parallel, an overwhelmed gasp escaped Woojin as you rubbed your ass harder against his crotch. His hands flew to your hips and he could think of nothing but the heat gathering between his legs, pressing against the soft curve of your ass.
Gunwoo cupped your breasts tentatively, but they felt too good, too perfect to let go. He wanted to get rid of your bikini, to feel them whole and complete.
Your words were like a spell that made the boxers take off completely:
"Or don't you want me?"
Gunwoo's eyes snapped back to your face and he looked almost panicked as he said:
"I want it! I want you!"
Woojin grinded your ass against his bulge and would have loved to pull your bikini bottoms down right then and there to thrust into you.
"We want all of it!" he added, and you smiled triumphantly.
It was so simple.
"Then take it."
Gunwoo gave Woojin a questioning look over your shoulder, he nodded curtly at him and by then he was already leaning down to you, pulling you closer by the face and kissing you tempestuous. Woojin began kissing your neck, continuing to rub his increasingly hard length against your soft skin.
The kiss was sunny, warm, full of desire and you melted, pressed between the two muscular men. Gunwoo began kneading your breasts, sighing into your mouth as the water seemed to boil around you.
As soon as he broke away from you, Woojin turned your head to the side by the chin and already his lips were pressing to yours as well. Sweet as honey, hot as fire and much more impetuous than Gunwoo.
He greedily pushed his tongue into your mouth, turning you over until your back bounced against Gunwoo and he could push his knee between your legs.
"Free her tits!" murmured Woojin, and his hands reached for your ass, kneaded your soft flesh until you gasped into his mouth. Directly you felt Gunwoo's fingers pull open the loops of your bikini and the top fell off of you. He tossed it aside and Woojin was finally able to touch what he had been dreaming about for nights. Directly he kissed down your neck, sucking on your skin until he reached your nipple and ran his tongue around.
You took Gunwoo's hand and placed it on your other breast as you leaned against him, sighing comfortably.
"So pretty for us," he murmured, twirling your nipple between his fingers while Woojin sucked on your other and groped your ass.
The water lapped around you and you felt detached, weightless.
Gunwoo's fingers wandered over the waistband of your bikini panties, hesitantly, as if weighing whether to cross that line. However, it was all too late now anyway.
"Touch me! Please go on!" you gasped, your fingers in Woojin's hair, working red marks into your skin.
Gunwoo's lips brushed your neck as he exhaled and slid his fingers into your bikini. He played with the little bundle of nerves, rubbing it until your knees went soft. You gasped, your lips swollen and your face enlightened with desire.
You looked into Woojin's eyes as you did so, and he was equally incredulous by the immense horniness. You stroked down his abs, over his crotch, and there he lifted you out of the water with ease.
"Woojin... What...?"
But you didn't get any further, because he was already carrying you onto the canapé, the cool air on your wet skin gave you goosebumps and when he leaned over you and kissed you wildly, you let out a loud gasp.
In Gunwoo's eyes, too, a fire burned in the meantime that could no longer be extinguished. Whimpering, you pressed your body against Woojin and the stormy kissing ended only when you both could no longer breathe. He tilted his head a bit and his hand wandered down your belly into your bikini bottoms where he stroked through your folds. His eyes lit up and a blush shot up your cheeks as he felt how wet you already were.
"Shit have you been this horny all this time?" he muttered, biting the crook of your neck, making you whimper softly. As he did so, he pressed his thumb flat against your clit. Quickly, you grabbed his wrist and held it ironclad so you didn't immediately come over his fingers.
"Don't act like I'm the only one.... I know you've been watching me," you replied, glaring piercingly at both of them. Gunwoo actually laughed softly and sat down next to you on the canapé, while Woojin knelt between your legs, the sun sparkling on his wet abs.
"Do you really think we haven't been thinking about fucking you since day one when you're always running around in those skimpy clothes, getting us hot and worked up obviously with pure intention?" he growled and started spreading wet kisses along your collarbone. Your head was already floating in the clouds, so you looked up to the star studded sky and when Gunwoo firmly kneaded one of your breasts, you let out a sigh:
"Oh God..."
"He won't be able to help you now," Woojin chuckled and that's when you felt him roll your bikini panties off your legs and toss them carelessly aside. Since he was kneeling between your legs you couldn't squeeze your thighs together and hide your soaked cunt from Woojin's intense gaze.
"Look at how wet she is!" he said with a grin at Gunwoo, pushing your knees even further apart. Gunwoo eased off your neck for a moment and stroked two fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingers and the smile on his lips turned your head. Gasping, you pushed through your back as he suddenly sank two fingers into you and began pumping them into you.
"Gunwoo... Oh... Fuck," you moaned as you clawed at his biceps and moved your hips against his hand.
"You like that, huh? My fingers deep in your pussy?" he murmured in a soft voice, as if he was talking to a puppy or a kitten.
Woojin watched as Gunwoo's fingers disappeared into your wet cunt, creating naughty wet sounds, while your whole body trembled and by now his cock was so stiff that he could hardly stand it anymore. Gunwoo suddenly pulled his fingers out of you so that you were forcibly thrown back into reality and could only watch as he pushed his fingers into his mouth and licked your wetness off of it.
"She tastes like candy," he gushed, and Woojin grew more impatient.
"I need to taste her so bad..." he growled, kneeling down in front of the canapé. Without further ado, he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to the edge so that his face hovered in front of your exposed cunt.
When his tongue met your clit, your eyes were already rolling backwards and when he then also sank two fingers into your hole and pumped them into you at an unholy pace while sucking on your clit, you couldn't stop moaning his name. He ate you out as if his life depended on it and as your hand sped into his curls and you pulled on his strands, he growled into your pussy. Gunwoo meanwhile went to work on your breasts, taking your nipples in his mouth, sinking his teeth into your sensitive skin and groping your whole body with his big hands.
"You're god damn gorgeous," he grunted, sucking so hard on your neck that you trembled. You felt your high rolling in record fast and Woojin worked your throbbing pussy only more intensely. His tongue slid over your bundle of nerves and his fingers hit the spots that drove you crazy every time.
"Faster... Woojin please," you begged and the sound of his name spilling from your lips had his cock aching against the fabric of his way too tight boxers, shoulders aching as he hammered his fingers into your pussy even faster, almost hoping you'll break for him.
Gunwoo palmed himself through his shorts by now, as he was more than aware of the sounds of Woojin devouring your pussy and your naked body just stretched out and ready for them.
Your vision was blurry by now, but when you felt Gunwoo's hand in your hair you looked up at him.
"Are you our good girl, princess?" he asked in such a low voice that you could only nod breathlessly. All you could do was cry in gargled whimpers, writhing around as Woojin focused on sucking the life out of you, his hands now on your hips, holding you still.
"Then open your mouth suck my dick, like the little slut you are," he purred, kneeling beside you, pulling down his shorts and holding his massive cock in his hand. A strangled gasp escaped you as Gunwoo put the tip to your lips and spread precum on it. Overwhelmed, your eyelids fluttered as you licked his slit and he tangled one hand in your hair, slowly pushing his length into your mouth. As he nudged your throat, a gag escaped you, making him groan loudly. You braced yourself against his thighs as he began to rut into your mouth. He was so thick that you quickly stopped breathing. In addition, your whole body tensed as your orgasm threatened to wash over you. Desperately, you squinted your eyes as Woojin didn't let up. He noticed how your legs began to tremble around his head and sucked hard on your clit. your whimpers stuttering as he continued to suck, flicking his tongue against it before sucking again. You gripped the pad beneath you, shutting your eyes tight and moaning repeatedly around Gunwoos dick as Woojin devoured you. Gunwoo noticed it too and paused from his slow but deep thrusts into your throat, holding you by the hair, his tip still pressed tightly against your lips as you came whimpering loudly. He studied your expression closely, trapped in the cage of pleasure and pure bliss.
As you slowly came back down from your high, Woojin licked clean everything he had caused and looked up at Gunwoo.
"Fuck you have to taste her! Her pussy is addictive."
Woojin chuckled contently between your thighs, his fingers pulling your folds apart to show Gunwoo the way your juices dribbled out of your leaking hole. He teasingly blew a puff of air over your sopping cunt, enjoying the way you writhed beneath him.
Completely attuned to each other, they changed places while you swam on the edge of reality, unsure if you would ever forget the feeling if pleasure flashing through your veins like lightning. You had never come so hard and that had only been Woojin's finger and mouth.
Gunwoo took a seat between your legs, grabbed a handful of your ass and pulled you closer to the edge until his mouth met your pussy. Directly you saw stars and when his tongue penetrated you, his deep humming filled your body. Somehow you felt Woojin's mouth on your neck, nibbling on your skin, stroking your tits and you were closer to heaven than ever before.
An unintelligible mass of words, curses and their names escaped you as you pushed his face deeper into your cunt with one hand in his hair. His nose bumped against your clit as he licked deeper and deeper into your hole and the knot in your belly tightened burning.
That's when you felt a rougher grip in your hair than Gunwoo had before. When you looked up at Woojin, you already saw that he was holding his cock and palmed himself. It wasn't as thick as Gunwoos length, but longer and even now you didn't know how to survive it.
"Don't leave me out, open up for me baby!" he demanded and pressed his tip against your lips. You saw how you got him worked up and as he tilted his head, taking in the sight of your fucked out facial expression, even though they hadn't really done anything yet, he was sure not only to be satisfied with a blowjob today. He tapped at your lips with his angry red tip, his eyes wide with demand.
You couldn't help but obediently obeying like the good girl you were, you parted your lips for him, taking the tip of his cock with ease. With uneven whines of pleasure, you stuck your tongue out to lick up his length. Slobbering messily, you smeared a mixture of precum and spit all over your chin.
Woojin tangled his fingers into the strands of your hair, guiding your head, watching your lips stretched around his dick as he pushed himself down your throat.
Tears welled up in your eyes and the naughtiest sounds escaped you as he began to snap his hips against your face. Your slurping noises and stifled whimpers only seemed to spur Gunwoo on, as he gripped his hands tighter into the flesh of your thighs and sinked his whole face into your pussy, licking as deep as he could.
Woojin grunts, feeling you swallow around him. He liked the way your eyes clouded with tears, the way you looked at him with such urgency when you needed to breathe.
"I think she's about to cum," Woojin gasped between his deep thrusts into your throat, and Gunwoo hummed in response, continuing to penetrate you with his tongue.
"Gunwoo tongue-fucking you real good, huh?", Woojin pressed out and pushed you all the way onto his cock so that your nose bounced against his lower belly and the world around you blurred. Gunwoo meanwhile withdrawing his tongue from your pussy and spreading your lips to start sucking on your clit again, a scream ripping from your throat from how amazing he was making you feel, as Woojin roughly pulled you back by the hair in time and pulled his dick out of your mouth to look at your face as you crumbled beneath him. Gunwoos mouth and tongue still torturing you. You'd long accepted that you were going to have to just cum for them. It's something they made sure you understood from the beginning. You came not for your own pleasure but because they wanted to see it. Like hungry lions they were just waiting until they pushed you over the edge each time. Your high shook you and your eyes rolled back as Gunwoo obsessively pressed his mouth on your pussy again. Woojin watched with satisfaction as you recovered from your climax, continuing to hold you by the hair so as not to miss any detail of your flushed face.
When you were gradually able to think clearly again, your legs were still shaking and the boxers were looking at you with a gentle smile.
"Holy shit," you sighed, running your hands through your hair and looking Gunwoo in the eye as he climbed back up to you.
"Was that good?" he asked, though he could read the answer on your face and body.
"That was sick," you murmured, and that's when his lips crashed down on yours. You could taste yourself on him, his hands tight on your hips and your head fogged with lust and desire.
"You didn't think that was it, did you?" asked Woojin suddenly, after the boxers had exchanged a meaningful glance. Even if you saw clearly again, your head was still filled with absorbent cotton. Before you could inquire, Woojin grabbed you by the hips and threw you over his shoulder. Grumbling, you drummed on his back as he carried you into the mansion, Gunwoo close behind you.
"Put me down! I can walk myself!"
He didn't even seem to have a little trouble carrying you up the stairs, and when he just laughed throatily, you got all hot.
"Don't act like you don't like being bossed around. You were just fucking begging me to finger you faster," he said and your head glowed with shame and arousal. In truth, you had never experienced anything hotter than being used by the two of them and everything inside you was screaming to finally be fucked.
He carried you to his and Gunwoo's room, threw you on the kingsized bed and climbed between your legs to kiss you. Demandingly, he slid his tongue into your mouth without hesitation, grabbed your hips and rubbed his hard dick through the fabric of his shorts against your thigh.
You sighed softly and your cunt contracted demanding. You wanted to feel him, deep inside you even if his size was already scaring you.
Gunwoo closed the door behind you and sat down on the chair beside the bed, watching you intently. Woojin kissed the red marks he and his best friend had worked into your skin all over your neck and breasts, then looked at you.
"What do you want, princess? Tell us so we can make you feel good. We're here just for you."
His voice was rough with lust and you melted under the gaze of his gemstone eyes. He couldn't get enough of the sight of your soft skin, pleading eyes and legs spread over the bed. He looked at you through half hooded eyes.
"Oh yeah? You're selflessly dragging me into your bed?" you asked cheekily, wandering your fingers down his stomach until you slid them into his waistband. He smelled seductively woody and of honey, which immediately gummed up your mind. Worse than any alcohol.
Woojin grinned crookedly and put a hand around your neck to push you back onto the mattress. You could feel how impatient he was.
"Answer him!" sounded Gunwoo's voice, low and rough, and you shuddered.
It was enough to make you gulp and the heat between your legs pulsate.
"Fuck me. I want my bodyguards to fuck me until I can't walk," you whispered and immediately fire shot into Woojin's eyes. He looked to Gunwoo, whose dick was massive and powerful in his hand.
"You want to start?" he asked him, and you got goosebumps. Gunwoo shook his head and smiled gently:
"You start. I'll take her after you stretched her for me."
Woojin nodded with a dirty grin, looked down at you with an intimidating stare, and flipped you onto your stomach by your hips with lightning speed. With a gasp, you felt him grab your hips, pulling you toward him until you were propped up on your elbows and your ass was sticking up in the air in front of him.
With one hand he pushed your torso into the mattress, with the other he pulled off his boxers. Your body trembled when you felt his tip at your entrance. He covered it with your juices, letting it brush up and down between your folds, and his tip alone would stretch and ache you, you knew for sure. He wasn't as thick as Gunwoo, but he was longer and you'd never had such massive cocks before.
"Look at the little princess..." he said teasingly to Gunwoo as he continued to tease you with his tip at your entrance, rubbing along your clit.
"Ready and desperate for us to fuck her brains out."
He had wanted you like this since he saw you that morning, ass in the air as you did your early morning exercises. But now you were even hotter, pussy messy and dripping and already spread from his fingers. He had an urge to spank you, punish you a bit for being so dirty, for teasing him for so damn long, but his balls are so heavy with cum that he needed to pound into you, like he needed to breath.
"I'm trying not to break you," he growled, and that's when he started to penetrate you. You whimpered softly as he began to push his tip inside you.
Your face was pressed into the mattress and you could only look at Gunwoo, who was watching intently as Woojin sank inch by inch deeper into you. Your body trembled and your walls began to pulse painfully.
He dug his fingers into your hips so you couldn't get away and pushed his length incessantly into your aching hole. Directly your field of vision veiled as inch by inch he seemed to tear your insides apart, regardless of your whimpers and gasps.
You clawed at the bed sheet and just as he disappeared halfway inside you, he paused to sigh softly:
"Holy shit. Your so tight. The best pussy I ever felt..."
You managed to take a quick breath and adjust to his size as a naughty moan was ripped from you as he thrusted completely into you unannounced. Your widened eyes met Gunwoo's as he palmed his hard dick and watched you in overwhelm, moaning softly.
"Oh fuck... Woojin it's too big," you pressed out overwhelmed, between whimpering and gasping. Subdued, you moaned out, clawing your hands into the mattress until his thighs bumped against yours. You felt his balls pressed against your clit and he pulsed deep inside you. Then he leaned over you until his mouth hovered next to your ear. He kissed your shoulders reassuringly and murmured:
"Shh. I know baby girl. Take it like the little whore you are."
Your breath caught as he slid out of you and slammed into you again. This time faster as your arousal was already dripping out of your cunt and as soon as he started thrusting into you, your eyes rolled back.
"Fuck so good," he gasped and Gunwoo started moving his hand up and down his cock, turned on by the way his best friend was destroying you from behind.
Then he started moving his hips steadily, he gripped your hips tightly and after just a few thrusts you thought you were going to burst. Every movement electrified you and soon all you could hear was your moans, the slap of his hips against your ass and his low growl as he took you hard and deep from behind. He could feel the thick veins that ran along the length of his cock rubbing against your walls with every plunge, and knew you could feel them too. Your hands were already slipping against the sheets, searching for some kind of sanity to cling on to as he fucked you senseless. All the while, you watched Gunwoo who couldn't take his eyes off of you, and as you narrowed your eyes at your third orgasm, Woojin grabbed your hands and yanked them out from under you, leaving you fully at his mercy.
"Look at Gunwoo and show him how good I'm fucking you!" he panted, seeming to reach deeper with each thrust. He moved his hips roughly and quickly. By then he was holding your wrists with only one hand, reaching for your face with the other, bending over you and turning your head until your lips collided. He was starving, keeping your face in his iron grip so he could take what he wanted so bad. Your lips were soft but eager, following his movements, trying to keep up. It was sloppy, a clash of tongues and spit smearing across cheeks. But you tasted so good, felt so fucking good bouncing against him. He twisted one of your sensitive buds, thumb and forefinger plucking and pulling as you moaned all breathy and light.
He gasped and clawed his fingers into your hips so hard it hurt, but you were hardly aware of anything except the enormous bliss that mixed with the pain into a pleasant mass.
He filled you up completely, messed up your insides and with every thrust you were more on fire.
The room was filled with slapping skin, the wet sound of your cunt and your sinful noises. You were seeing stars by now and he was just stepping it up a notch, slamming into you like he was trying to win a race.
Your cheek rubbed against the sheets with each time and your mouth was open as his name rolled from your lips like a desperate prayer.
The knot in your stomach tightened firmly and you could see Gunwoo's heated gaze as he watched closely as Woojin's cock disappeared into your tight hole and penetrated it.
Your back ached and Woojin was sure he had never seen anything more beautiful than your cockdrunk face, your body bent just for him and your ass slapping steadily against his hips.
"How does she feel?" asked Gunwoo, sliding his hand along his dick, edging himself.
"Incredible. So wet... So tight. Fuck she's crushing me," he gasped between thrusts, letting his hips snap deep inside you several times, hitting the sensitive spot each time, sending you into a different atmosphere.
With your hands behind your back and Woojins cock squeezed at your tense walls, he snapped his hips hard against yours a few more times before his movement became chaotic and sloppy.
By now your arousal was flowing down your thighs and had he not held you upright by your arms, you would have simply collapsed while the orgasm almost overtook you like an avalanche. The world was enveloped in a glistening white light and Woojin pushed you over the edge as you moaned his name so sinfully that he would probably never forget it. He felt your walls tighten around him and your body spasmed.
"It's okay baby girl! Come around my cock! Let me fill you up," he moaned and that's when the knot in your belly snapped into white glowing hot pleasure. You screamed, your next orgasm explosive your eyes rolling so hard it hurt, your entire body shivering as you tried to handle the pleasure.
Your orgasm made your entire body tremble and the expression on your face, pressed against the bed sheet, your eyebrows drawn together accusingly and your features contorted with desire, that's when Woojin came too.
With a loud grunt he came deep inside you, but he didn't stop, not even as thick ropes of hot cum filled your already gushing pussy and spurting out onto his stomach, onto your thighs. He was unrelenting, keeping you both within the throes of orgasmic bliss with his cock plunging inside of you over and over again. His hot cum mixed with your juices and spilled out of your cunt as soon as he pulled out. The sight made Gunwoo clench his teeth. Sweat stood on Woojin's forehead and he looked at what he did with satisfaction.
Taken completely by surprise, you stayed flat on the bed, trying to calm your breathing, but the orgasm left you drained and shaking, your eyelids fluttering and your fucked out face. It was a glorious view and he gently turned you over onto your back, brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your lips with so much affection that you felt quite comfortable.
"Are you all right?" he asked, kissing your neck, stroking your sides and calming you.
You nodded weakly and gradually you came back to reality. Gunwoo stood beside the bed, his throbbing cock heavy in his hand, and your body immediately responded by letting the arousal run between your legs again.
"Do you think you can really take both of us?" he asked challengingly and the mocking grin on his lips, made the pride and lust return.
"Of course..." you said, and Woojin tilted his head a little, his eyes shining energetically, and he grazed your neck with his lips.
"So you want Gunwoo to fuck you too?"
Quickly you nodded and looked at Gunwoo, who looked impatient.
"Such a good girl...", Woojin purred and stepped back to make room for Gunwoo, who was lunging over you as he did at noon today, spreading almost innocent kisses along your jaw. You felt his tip at your entrance and your body responded without you being able to do anything about it.
You wrapped your legs around his hips and there he pressed his tip into your aching hole. "Fuck, I guess we're wrecking her tonight?", Gunwoo chuckled , biting his lip at the sight of your pussy spread so wide open for him.
As he stretched you open, the initial thrust inside is slow and sharp. He smelled pleasantly sweet of fresh strawberries and cinnamon, which immediately got you hooked. He was big, shifting his hips slowly for you to take it all in. He intercepted your moans with kisses until you were moaning into his mouth, fingers clutched tightly in his back and barely able to perceive the world around you anymore. He moved his hips fluidly, almost artistically, finding the sensitive spots that made you fly every time. There he worked it down your body again. His eager, hot mouth enveloping one of your nipples and sucking. His tongue flattens, nibbling on your heated skin and swirling around your nipples, fast and rough until you were whining, your cries came with every thrust. You were the perfect picture, everything even more incredible than either of them had ever tried to visualize. He felt unlike anyone you had ever been with. Beside his kind nature there was a sadistic edge to his slowness, dragging each stroke as if he wanted to slide over every nerve in the tight depth of your cunt. Your body was out of your control by now, the coil in your belly so tense that you feared fainting with the next orgasm, while your brain was just mush.
"Gunwoo, you're gonna fucking break me!", you sighed and moving your hips against his, without a chance of resistance.
His muscles under your skin felt warm and protective. You sucked him right in, all tight and warm, gummy walls spreading to fit snugly around him. Your moan was swallowed down his throat as he pressed his mouth to yours again, brutal and quick. But somehow sweet and intense.
"Don't act all surprised, you wanted this. You were the one driving us crazy all along," Woojin said from his place on the chair where he watched you two fucking tightly entwined.
He was right. You wanted this, but you never thought that both of them were so good in bed and fucked your mind out with ease. Gunwoo smiled and his breath bounced against your lips as he held your hips as your body's were completely melted into each other. He lifted your hips a little with both hands to sink even deeper. Directly your eyes rolled back and only incoherent sounds passed your lips anymore. Enchanted by your beauty, the warmth of your cunt and your body that he never wanted to let go of, he pressed his lips hard on yours again as he felt your body trembling beneath him and your fingernails digging deeper into his back.
You gasped into his mouth, unconsciously raising your leg up to wrap around his waist tighter as he supported you with his arm, your fingernails clawing at his shoulders as you felt yourself reach your climax, the coil in your tummy snapping.
"Fuck she's crushing me," he moaned, coming deep inside you moments later. Overwhelmed, your breath went rattling and you tried to gasp, clutching tightly. You didn't know if minutes or hours had passed as Gunwoo rolled off you and stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. You could not yet comprehend what had just happened. Only when Woojin slipped into bed next to you and pulled you in by the waist until your back was pressed tightly against his chest did your pulse gradually calm down. It was pitch dark outside and their bed seemed more comfortable than your own right now. Gunwoo moved close to you so that you could lay your head on his chest and feel his heartbeat with your hand. So you fell asleep tightly embraced, exhausted and overwhelmed. You felt safe and secure. A Feeling that you had been missing for a very long time and that was all the more beautiful now that you perceived it again.
You fell into a dreamless deep sleep and when you opened your eyes the next morning, it took you an eternity to realize that the ringing noise did not come from you imagination. Sighing, you felt Woojin's arm wrapped tightly around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck, and Gunwoo was also still fast asleep, one hand on your hip.
The events of last night were burned into your memories like brands and you would probably feel the traces of that night for days to come. But then the front doorbell rang again and finally even the boxers slowly woke up grumbling.
You managed to free yourself from Woojin's grasp and push Gunwoo's massive arm aside to slip out of bed. Quickly grabbing your robe from your room, you sleepily hurried down the stairs as the doorbell continued to ring.
"Yes, yes! I'm coming!" you called out, and when you saw your sister on the display outside the door, you breathed a sigh of relief.
As soon as you opened the door, she was already rushing in.
"You're not awake yet?" she asked incredulously, heading straight for the kitchen to make herself some coffee.
In fact, it was unusual for you not to be up at this hour. You were an early riser, always full of energy. But after last night, you were glad to be able to walk upright. Hyun-Ju turned to you and leaned against the kitchen counter. She looked around the apartment in wonder.
"Where are your bodyguards?" she asked curiously, and you automatically pulled your robe tighter around your body.
"They're still asleep."
Suspiciously, she looked at you properly for the first time. There from second to second the questioning look turned to recognition then to disbelief.
"What's that on your neck?" she snapped, and you jerked back a step as she tried to touch a spot the boxers left on your neck with her finger.
"Nothing!" it escaped you too panicked, too quickly. She furrowed her eyebrows and grabbed your robe, pulling it down a bit. Her eyes went wide and her mouth was open in bewilderment.
"Holy shit!"
Directly you slapped her hand away and took her now full coffee cup to drink it yourself.
"Which one did you lure into your bed?" she asked directly and you tried to hide your grin by taking a big gulp from the coffee mug.
Because you couldn't answer without grinning like an idiot, she scrunched her nos in disbelief.
Slowly she began to realize it. She could always read your thoughts on your face.
"Don't tell me you have...", but she didn't get any further, because now Gunwoo and Woojin also came strolling down the stairs. Their hair messed up, yawning and Gunwoo wearing sweatpants while Woojin was only in his boxershorts. When they saw you they greeted curtly and Hyun-Ju could almost grab the smell of sex in the air as they smiled amusedly at you as you passed.
"Good morning Hyun-Ju. Boss," Woojin said, and Gunwoo pressed his lips together to avoid looking too guilty. But Woojin's satisfied look in your direction was enough to prove what was obvious anyway. The hickeys on your neck, your hair all messed up and the tiredness on your faces was proof enough. She even got a good view of the scratches all over Gunwoos back, as he walked out of the door.
As they sat down with their coffee outside, your sister whirled back around to face you.
"Both of them? All at once?" she hissed and you laughed softly.
"You're unbelievable..." she exhaled heavily, shaking her head. The two of you looked out onto the terrace where the two boxers were chatting, offering a picture like something out of an erotic novel. Upper bodies exposed, muscles glistening in the sun and hair a mess from sleep.
"For not wanting them, you like your bodyguards quite a bit now, don't you? I must admit they are quite pretty toys" sighed Hyun-Ju, and you cleared your throat with rosy cheeks.
"Maybe. Just don't tell Grandpa... Otherwise, he'll take them away from me."
When your eyes met, you grinned like an idiot and you two couldn't help but snorting with laughter at that.
Taglist:
@be0mluver @lola2004sworld @ilyilykaeya @badwicht @marked-unknown @peachy-aisha @etherealcherrie @mel-onthemoon @heisoemi
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sensationallysangwoo · 12 days ago
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𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙲𝚑𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚆𝚘𝚘 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏💙
💙𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚐-𝚠𝚘𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝-𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚍.💙
💙𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝙿𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏. 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚡. 💙
Taglist: @trashk1tty , @torasgfreal, @dilfismz , @pulparindos , @reddead-salem, @daeholuvs , @radarbiterlover, @partyb0yyyy
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The pitter patter of the water droplets against the ceramic shower floor creates its own relaxing song. Sang-woo’s back faces you, bare and beautifully torn up from the activities that just transpired moments ago. “C’mon princess. It’s warm now.”
You both step into the shower, sighing at the sensation of the hot droplets kissing your skin. There’s nothing better than a nice hot shower. Correction—there’s nothing better than a nice hot shower with the love of your life.
You’re standing in the shower facing Sang-woo, and he flashes his signature smile at you. Bashful, brief, his top teeth peeking out at you for one second. Your heart flutters at his attractiveness. “Let me get you cleaned up, my love. We sure had fun, didn’t we?” His deep voice bounces off the shower walls.
“Had so much fun.” You giggle. Your brain flashes images of the passionate love the two of you made. You’ll be saving those mental images for when he’s at work.
Sang-woo reaches for the body wash. It’s your favorite scent. The scent you started using when you and him began dating. It holds such fond memories and every time it graces your nose you think of when it all started.
He starts lathering the soap all over your body gently. It feels wonderful, his large hands massaging every inch of you in such a sweet and affectionate manor. This is his way of taking care of you. He sees you as something to protect, to love, to care for and nurture. Behind that quiet, calculated facade is a man who just wants to love and be loved. No one would know but you, though.
“Turn around.”
His fingers sink into the soft flesh of your shoulders, massaging and squeezing out every knot. He washes your back and you feel your eyes flutter shut, relishing in every touch given to you by your precious Sang-woo. Oh, how you want to freeze time and live in this shower for eternity.
His turn. You grab the soap from him and start trailing your fingers down his perfect body, leaving an array of bubbles all over his skin. Every ridge and curve of his toned abdomen under your fingertips made you question how you even got a man so perfect to be yours.
Sang-woo melts into your touch. You lean in to kiss his lips softly as your soapy hands caress his sides. This moment is everything he’s ever dreamed of and more. Before you came along, he was as touch starved as ever. Now he can’t get enough of you. Your hands. Your lips. Each gentle touch and delicate kiss makes him crave more.
His heart swells with contentment as you reach up and shampoo his hair. You push back the dark black bangs that live on his forehead and just take in the sight of the handsome man before you.
He does the same for you, his short fingernails scratching at your scalp just the way you like. The shower is a sanctuary for Sang-woo and yourself. Here, the two of you get to love and appreciate the rawest forms of each other in a non-sexual way. Pure love and admiration.
Looking up at him, you see his expression shift from alert to tired. A small smile tugs at his lips as he looks at you through half lidded eyes. The suds are gone and it’s time to retreat to the warmth of the bed and each other’s arms.
You kiss him once more, this time deeply til you both nearly run out of air. You turn off the shower and cling to Sang-woo as the bathroom air begins to cool off. Warm PJ’s, a nice thick comforter, and many years of showertimes await you, with your beloved Sang-woo by your side.
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Well hopefully you guys liked this one!! I got a little sappy here I’m SORRY I HAVE A BIG HEART FOR HIM. Anyways thank you again @reddead-salem for this freaking adorable idea. Have a great night everyone see ya in the next one! ✌️💙
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