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e1dritchjackal0pe · 11 months ago

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴅ ᴄᴀʟʟꜱ

Summary: Your arranged marriage to the na-Baron is something that you look upon with a sense of dread and reluctance. His violence, brutality and cunning are something that haunts you. You should fear him. You do. But for some reason, you can't seem to stay away.

Warnings: 18+ content. MDI. AFAB, she/her pronouns. Reader is a virgin but not entirely inexperienced, virginity loss. Hints of morally gray reader. Oral (F!Receiving), biting and blood, PinV, non-protected sex, Canon typical violence (blood, death, gladiator fights). Feyd. Not proofread.

Notes: 20.4k words. The essence of enemies to lovers. The reader is an Atreides but not a daughter of Jessica. IDK ya'll, something about seeing Austin Butler bald and deranged has altered me.

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.

Your heart is in your throat. It feels as though it's lodged itself in place between the cartilage and flesh to choke your windpipe, making each breath snag and tremble. You can practically feel it pulsing along your pharynx. You try to focus, steeling yourself by lacing your fingers together until you fear you might break them. Not even the litany that has been engrained in you since childhood serves to center your thoughts, but still you try. Chanting lowly in your head and quietly under your breath as not to be heard. As not to reveal your anxiety, but you know that the evidence of your distress must be more than obvious. And it had been very apparent since this morning, as you prepared for your travel to Giedi Prime where you will be married.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

The looks that Lady Jessica had given you were harsh and piercing. The eyes of a teacher. You had found no forgiveness in her arms even though she has done her best to take the place of your mother. But she is a Bene Gesserit first. Always. Just as you must be. But you must also be an Atreides. Duty is your purpose. It runs in your blood. It's the very reason why you pull air into your lungs. It's why you were even born. You have to honor that. Even if it requires sacrifice. Even if fear trembles down each and every notch of your spine; even when your thoughts are scattered and wild; even with the entire trajectory of your life being placed into the palms of some of the most ruthless beings in the universe. You will survive.

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

You swallow harshly, trying to force down your nerves with it but the way that the craft shudders and trembles with the strain of breaking through the foreign planet's atmosphere doesn't help. It only serves to make your inner turmoil worse. Your gaze sweeps around the cabin, a hollow thing meant for military, not comfort, and the presence of a small squad clad in their combat armor reminds you of the strained relationship that your family has nurtured with this house for several millennia. A reminder that you aren't supposed to be here on your own. Nearly clawing at your own hands and struggling to center yourself as the cold, dark walls of the ship tremble and shake like the stomach of starved animal. Your wedding was supposed to take place on Richese, a neutral planet that no longer governs political alliances with neither Caladan nor Giedi Prime. That is what had been negotiated long before you were even born, with both Houses having been too paranoid to allow both products of their lineage onto enemy territory. But a month before the wedding, the Baron had sent word. An invitation of sorts, that he wished to encourage the House of Atreides to allow the union to commence on his soil as a token of good faith. As a signal that all of the bad blood and the violence shared between each party could finally be laid to rest.

But as with most houses, it was more than just an invitation. It strengthened the Harkonnen image to place forth the olive branch and if Duke Leto refused it could be seen in bad light. A sign of weakness or distaste. The summoning could not be refused lest it smear the Atreides name in the eye of the Emperor, always a fickle and superficial man. Even with that logic, you can't help the spike of anger that rouses in your chest and threatens to burn. It's because of that sense, no matter how correct it may be, that you're sitting in this damned ship, breaking into the polluted atmosphere of a dead planet when you could have had just one more day on soil that wasn't obscured and marred by heavy cities and volcanic rock.

Selfish. You're just being selfish.

Even though she is not here to guide you, the image of Lady Jessica's eyes flash within your mind, sharp and exacting despite their light shade; amplified by the delicate, embroidered fabric that framed her head just this morning. School your face, her expression tells you. And she - or at least the mental image of her, is right. You can't let yourself fall to your emotions, no matter how strongly they want to eat you alive. You've prepared for this moment since your first breath. You've spent nearly every waking moment practicing in the ways of the Bene Gesserit under the guidance of Lady Jessica. You'vee spent countless hours poring over the history and politics of both houses in preparation for your future role; what must have amounted to months of studying the culture and customs of the Harkonnen. All of them seem to be rooted in violence and savagery in some way or another. Aggression and cunning are prized traits. Bloodshed is coveted. The people according to old texts and educational filmbooks are just as severe as their environment. An environment that they had cultivated from their brutal and avaricious nature, tearing up all of its resources until nothing was left.

You can't help but wonder if you will suffer the same fate.

But if you are going to be honest with yourself, it isn't the toxic hellscape or even the idea of marriage that puts you on edge. It is him. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is someone who is notorious for his violence. Stories of his conquests and cruelty echo out across the houses, Minor and Major; there is not a soul who hasn't heard of his reputation. And despite having been promised to him since before your birth, you haven't met the na-Baron once in your life. Both houses had been too stubborn to schedule an interaction between the two of you. Most likely due to mistrust. Plus, a meeting isn't necessarily required for a marriage to commence, not one amongst houses, at least. But the fact that you haven't so much as seen the na-Baron's face has always left you feeling horribly vulnerable. Like you have been left to navigate you footing in the dark and the slightest misstep might leave you to tumble into the void. It had been another reason why you have always been so adamant on learning of the Harkonnen people; some desperate venture to discover as much about your soon to be husband as possible. You've tried to paint some sort of image of him in your head with the information provided by word of mouth and old filmbooks. Gurney had been one of the first people to warn you of Harkonnen ruthlessness. Their proclivity towards greed and violence. A violence that they don't even spare their own people from.

"You will have to be strong," he told you just before you had boarded onto the star craft, eager to speak to you before you left forever. It was his worry you knew. He was panicked inside despite being the picture of composure. The look in his eyes had kept you frozen in place, locked onto him even with the mild thrum of chaos and bodies clamoring around you, servants and soldiers alike working to prep the ship for your flight, loading trunks and chests full of your personal belongings onto the carrier. It was firm; the type of resolution that is brought from experience. From a personal sort of pain and the glint of it left you feeling empty; gutted. The only thing that kept you centered was the grip of his hand on your forearm, firm and warm in its hold like it may help to drill his words better into your skull. "Every moment will be a fight for you. Harkonnen sniff out weakness like dogs. You cannot yield. Ever."

You've heard words like that about them all your life. Horror stories from Atreides soldiers who had encounters with opposing Harkonnen forces. Tales of stark, pale skin and the glint of snarling blackened teeth before they deliver a killing blow. Features that a younger version of yourself never would have imagined for her intended. But those naive, wistful fantasies that you used to entertain as a child are long gone now. Replaced by the harsh realities of war and bloodshed. When you were a girl, still ignorant to the true depth of your duties, you had imagined someone with kind, intelligent eyes as your future husband. Someone patient and understanding; even with the whispers of the Harkonnen's true nature lurking over you like leaping shadows. But back then you were young enough to have hope. Back then, you would dream of him too in the flashes of deep, piercing eyes; you'd hear the low rumble of a voice while blades flashed and carved through pale air.

And on some nights visions still torment you. But now they taunt with the sensation of phantom touches and the mirage of balmy skin that sears against you own so intently that sometimes it tears you from your slumber with ragged breaths and a humiliating heat between your thighs.

You can feel the pressure in the cabin shift around you, weighing over your head and bearing down on your shoulders as the ship continues its descent. Your ears pop, and the sound has the awful, paranoid visual of snapping bones and tendons projecting across your mind. You pull a heavy breath into your lungs, holding it there while you try to shift your thoughts onto something less violent. Escaping to fond memories to try and soothe yourself. For a just a moment you pretend that you are not here at all, but back home on Caladan. You can see the ocean. The long stretch of crystalline water, glittering underneath the cast of the balmy sunlight as trawlers coast along the current to capture netfuls of fish, looking like dots along the distant horizon. But it's always the wind that you love the most. Even when the skies are clear, unmarred from the blot of heavy rainclouds, you can always smell the presence of a storm in the air, perfuming the breeze with the earthy musk of petrichor and the fresh salt of the ocean. You can practically feel the brush of lush grass sweeping along your palms, prickling along the sensitive skin with the damp hint of the dew that seeps from the rich ground.

Your reverie is shattered to a million pieces when the metallic hum of the craft's engine reverberates across the walls and floor of the cabin, signaling that it is approaching the ground; preparing to land. Each pulse of the sharp groan sounds like the pound of a nail in a casket. You can just barely focus around the wild patter of your heartbeat in your ears and for a moment you think that you might become ill. You could still feel the warmth of your brother's arms around your body. The way that he had clung to you. Like he was afraid to let go; to watch you slip from his life. In turn you had latched onto him, hesitant to unwind your arms from him, trying to claim the feel and scent of him to memory. But you couldn't have remained that way forever, and when you had pulled away from each other, the corners of his mouth were perked up into a smile. But it was too dull, too forced to be truly happy. You saw something mournful peeking through it, even while he tried to appear composed for your sake. You know how much he opposes of your intended matrimony. You have eavesdropped on the arguments he has shared with your father behind closed doors, attempting to fight for your sake even though it was a lost cause. His fear that you might not survive the ruthlessness of the Harkonnen, his misguided guilt for you taking his intended place. It had made you sorry for him the first time he had confessed that remorse to you. That he felt as though he was the one to blame for your marriage because it was his initial future to wed into the Harkonnen House had he not been born a male. Even with your near constant insistence that it was not his burden to bear, he refused to shed the weight of his self-imposed guilt. Always so damn stubborn.

You had done your best to return his smile, softly squeezing his hand to comfort him and center your mind while the briny Caladan wind swept across the landing pad. But the memory cannot keep your heart from plummeting down to your gut when the craft finally touches the ground, shuddering lightly as it lands with a deep whir.

You're here. You are actually on Giedi Prime now.

There is officially no turning back.

You feel like a ghost when you are drawn to rise, and you hardly register the fact that you haven't moved from your place on the seating to stand on your feet once the ship is still. You feel like an empty vessel, seeing but not registering as everyone moves about the empty space with practiced ease to stand before the hatch. The small unit of four soldiers have all built a formation around you and your own handmaidens, who stand diligently behind you. On any other occasion, they would have lined themselves in front of you all as well. Especially during affairs with the Harkonnen. But this is not a regular affair, and as trivial as it may seem, something as simple as guards posed in front of the Duke's daughter could be viewed as an act of distrust. A blight on your wedding and the union of the houses.

Despite the way that everyone holds themselves; the images of discipline with perfect posture and heads held high, the apprehension that taints the atmosphere could be mistaken for a tangible thing. You could still see glimpses of tension set in the soldiers' shoulders; you could see the rigidity in their necks, anticipation and worry hidden underneath their armor.

Your father should be here too. Your family. But you know that they can't. A matter of ill, convenient timing that required them to board their own ship to leave for Arrakis. The Emperor had passed the fief to the House of Atreides, calling them to abandon their position on Caladan - to abandon your ancestorial home - in favor for the desert and the production of spice. It was an unexpected development, but one that your father would not turn down. As angry as you would like to be, you know how difficult this is for him. You have wanted to blame him for so long. And for a while you did. He's your father. He is supposed to protect you. To keep your happiness and security in mind. But because of the perspective, it is also easy to forget that he is more than just your father, he is also a Duke, with countless lives to defend and shelter. He is an Atreides.

You are an Atreides, and there is no call you do not answer.

You had shared one final look with him on Caladan, underneath the golden rays of the morning sun. You didn't flinch or waver underneath his gaze. You remained firm, and some sort of understanding passed between the both of you, melting away the hatred and betrayal that ran thick in your blood stream. In that split second, you saw so much pass through his eyes: determination, acceptance and something like a bare shred of loss before it was quickly masked by unwavering resolve. A resolve that you too had to master.

A dull jolt sounds out across the dark, metallic space and with it the large hatch of the ship begins to open, exposing a sliver of pale light. Butterflies erupt inside of your gut at the sight of the glow, brushing along your stomach and threatening to overcome you with a rush of nausea. But you hold yourself still, attempting to swallow down the unease but suddenly your throat is bone dry and stuffed with cotton. Perhaps the only thing that keeps you in place is the promise the Feyd-Rautha will not be present at your arrival. A small respite that your father had been able to secure you in the form of a Caladan wedding custom; that your husband should not be able to see you before your ceremony, lest the matrimony fall to bad luck. And in truth it is a tradition. One that has trickled down through the ages from Old Earth, so it was not necessarily done by means of deceit. Even so, the Baron had apparently been less than thrilled by the prospect of keeping you and his nephew separated once on the same soil, though it seems that your father still had managed to persuade him regardless. A small victory for you at least.

Now all you can do is hope that the Baron has stuck to his word.

You watch with ice in your veins and frozen lungs as the ramp continues to lower, yawning open akin to the jaws of an animal that threatens to discard you at the feet of starving beasts like scraps. More of that harsh light flows into the dark of the cabin, spilling over the heads of the soldiers, eating up the floor until it slips over your body, rising up over you until it reaches your eyes like a blaze; threatening to blind you with its intensity. You wince from the brightness of it, blinking rapidly until your eyes adjust to the absence of shadows. The surprised, low hiss that erupts from behind you, tells you that one of your handmaidens has also been taken off guard and blinded.

With the continuation of its descent, it begins to reveal a blackened skyline of buildings that rise like slopping monoliths. Massive structures eat up the ground and cast stretching shadows across the dark platform. It strikes you that the little bit of the visible sky is a pale, as though a flat storm cloud had consumed the heavens. It isn't blue like the skies back home, or even orange or anything. It is simply a white void. It's all monochrome. Devoid of color and life. Everywhere that you look is either a piercing black or a violent white that almost burns to behold, and it is with a quick, almost hesitant inspection downward that you discover that the emerald hue of your silk dress has turned a shade of a deep smoky black from the strange illumination.

But you don't get time to dwell on the discovery for long before the ramp meets the ground with a dull groan. It might as well as be a death sentence. You just barely catch sight of the of the figures that are lined along the platform, silently waiting for you to step out into the light. In your stupor, you have noticed that the number of Harkonnen that wait for your exit is a rather small group. It is not a massive procession with banners or celebration; there is no intrigued crowd of citizens awaiting to evaluate you. No more than five Harkonnen stand out on the platform, focusing on you with the distance the separates your parties with clasped hands and heads held high. The Baron it seems, holds no excitement for your arrival and has made no effort to welcome you on Giedi Prime. The message has been made clear of what he thinks of this union. Of you.

The bastard.

The world has gone hush. Dead silent as everyone awaits your move. And it is with that thought suddenly that you realize that everyone is waiting for you to take action. You are no longer expected to follow. You aren't allowed the crutch of following after your father or Lady Jessica's footsteps. They aren't here to guide you anymore. You steel yourself with a deep breath, drawing up your shoulders as you will yourself to step forward. Your legs are suddenly heavy like they have been strapped down with boulders and iron, but you force them into a stride regardless. Even when each move forward feels like a motion closer to your demise.

You can hear the gentle clink of your Handmaidens heels as they dutifully trail after you. It gives you some comfort, no matter how small, that you have some familiar faces amongst you. That you aren't completely alone here.

Still, you try to distract yourself. And in some mad scramble, your mind latches onto some old passage that you had read back on Caladan during one of your distant studies. It has you daring to sneak a few glances upward to the pale sky in between your focus forward, squinting through the glare, ignoring the way that the delicate chained veil draped across your face nudges against your eyelashes in your search for the sun. You had heard of its description countless times, seen holograms of it before, but none of them had managed to do the true thing honesty. In its blaze, it is claimed to cast an infrared shine which explains the bleak, washout coloration of the planet. But seeing the source of said lighting was entirely different. You do your best not to openly gawk at. To not stare at it for too long. The last thing that you want is to go blind; your fortune is terrible enough as is. But you're unable to stop yourself from stealing fleeting peeks at the star. If you didn't know any better, you could have mistaken it for a sort of eclipse. It looks like a black hole has torn through the heavens, gaping like an open wound, and you would have no idea that it was burning if not for the streams of light radiating from its rounded edges like a halo.

Even with the remnants of your hatred smoldering through your body and turning your muscles rigid, you can't deny that there is a kind of odd beauty about the star. It's strange to see something that you had learned about so many years ago, and there is some detached part of you that has not fully accepted that you are even truly here. That small piece is still safely tucked away on Caladan, admiring as the sea meets the cliffside in a rolling crest of foam and froth.

But that still is not enough to keep you from your reality.

You all come to a unanimous halt, standing to leave a decent breadth between you and the Harkonnen. You have heard many things of the Baron of Giedi Prime. His guile. His hedonism. Whispers among the houses claimed him to be a gargantuan man. Someone whose intensity and mannerisms alone command attention and make men cower. The Baron, you quickly deduce, is not here. It seems that he has sent his advisors and servants in his stead. Whether that be from arrogance or indolence, or hatred, you are not sure.

The man who stands at the in the center of the greeting committee holds himself with an air of importance. Back straight and hands clasped as he analyzes your small party. He is awfully pallid, just as his other companions are, a product of being denied ultraviolet rays that could be found in your planets own sun. The hulking black star cradled in the sky above you is hardly able to provide a proper tan it seems. The stark, unforgiving light casted from the solar body bathes you all in a layer of an achromatic hue, and it glints across the rounded skin of his bare scalp. They are all bald, you have easily observed, and you can just faintly recall reading a chapter in regard to Harkonnen beauty standards. Their proclivity to remove every ounce of hair from their bodies as a sign of cleanliness and purity; the means to extract themselves from their meek beginnings and perhaps, to a degree, a way to separate themselves from humanity. But the dark vertical strip that stretches across the expanse of his bottom lip signifies his position as a Mentat.

"Lady Atreides," the Harkonnen advisor greets, voice deceptively placid and monotone. "We are grateful for your arrival. I trust that the trip was respectable." His words are kind, but the expression on his face is decidedly neutral. There is something about him that instantly unnerves you. Be it the unrushed nature of his mannerisms or the sly look in his eyes, you are not sure, but he sets you on edge.

You force yourself to speak, calming your features into something just as blank and fixed as his own. "It was fair," you answer truthfully, before pointedly scanning the surrounding area. "It is a beautiful planet." A lie is you have ever said one, and the Mentat does not appear to be ignorant to your sad attempt at charm. Even with the unmoved aura that radiates from him, you are sure that you spotted a small glimmer of amusement pass through the dark of his eyes.

"I am pleased you think so," he replies easily. "In any case, I have my orders to deliver you to the Baron as soon as possible. An event is being held in the honor of your union to the na-Baron. You shall not want to miss it."

The confession feels as though it has doused you with ice water, but you refuse to show your distress. You're not stupid. You know that at some point, you would have to face the Baron. You were just hoping that it would not have been so soon. You should have known better, you suppose, that the Baron would give you single moment of reprieve once on his planet, and now you are suddenly not so sure that you want to have to attend a celebration of any sort.

"Wonderful," you force a smile, one as polite you can manage while making sure to keep your voice gentle and inviting.

"Leave your soldiers here. They won't be necessary."

The request leaves you troubled. For a moment you stand there silently, a little dumbly even. That last thing you want to do is leave your only form of proper protection outside on an unfamiliar world. Especially one as hostile and deceitful as Giedi Prime. But you do not have many options here. You are in no true form of power. You are not yet married to the na-Baron, you are lightyears away from your own planet - which doesn't belong to your family anymore by the Emperor's decree - and your father must be on Arrakis by now; even farther away. You are now the one who dictates your fate and survival, and although promised to the na-Baron, your life is still not secured. You must be tactful.

You turn your head to look over your shoulder at the soldiers who diligently stand behind you and your handmaidens. Your focus meets the unwavering stare of the lieutenant; his hardened countenance, his lips pressed into a firm line. The nod you give him is subtle, but it is still a command, and with it, he and his men silently step back.

When you return your attention back on the Mentat it is difficult to tell if he is pleased or not with how blank he keeps his features. It's unnerving but then he spins on his heels without any more fanfare and his fellow Harkonnen are quick to shadow him. Hesitation bears heavy in your gut, but even with your instinct telling you to run; to flee, you steel yourself. Drawing in a deep breath to clear your mind, you follow.

You are not sure what you had expected to find when you had allowed the Mentat to lead you. Some wild, senseless part of you feared that he may have taken you to your death. Led you to a trap to be slaughtered. But no dagger has been raised to your chest. He has not summoned soldiers from the shadows to pull you away and toss you into a tomb. Or maybe in a way he has.

The doorway that you stand before is daunting. Affixed in front of you like a rival. It is such a trivial, ordinary thing. You have passed through thresholds millions of times in your years, twisted knobs and guided doors open to pass through them. But suddenly, such a mundane thing seems to stand out like a hazardous sign - a bad omen. You know who lies beyond it. Who you must face. Now your bravery threatens to allude you. To leave you abandoned and flailing. It does not help that your handmaidens had been dismissed for you. Guided away by Harkonnen servants, and when you had asked the Mentat as to where they were being taken, what intentions lie ahead for them, he didn't answer. His silence on the matter has left you disturbed; fueled your mind to wonder and theorize about the worst. That they may be harmed.

He stands next to you now, just as silent as before, watching you expectedly.

No. You cannot flounder here. You cannot cower or cry. Your duty - your lineage will not allow it.

With a newfound determination, you step forward with your chin raised proudly. Activated by the motion, the dark door slips open, beckoning you enter, and you answer the invitation without wavering. The Mentat doesn't follow after you, but you hardly pay that any mind, too focused on analyzing the room that you now stand in. The space is open and capacious, and you spot a line of servant girls rowed up to the right with their backs against the wall. They don't glance up when you look at them, even though you can tell that they are aware of your presence. They remain silent, eyes trained on the floor and posture rigid. There is fear in them.

As if drawn by a magnetic pull, you attention leaves them to wander to the opposite end of the room. His back is facing you, but even then, you are certain that all of the stories you have heard of him will not prepare you for this moment. Even as he perches - lounges on the support of his seat from fully across the room, his presence commands your attention. The order that his being silently instructs is only amplified by the cool, harsh light that pours down around him from the viewing window, highlighting his shape as he sits like a gargoyle poised. The gossip was true, it seems, he is a corpulent man and shares the same ashen complexation as the other Harkonnen that you have seen thus far. And suddenly as curiosity burns in you to see the face of the person who has harmed so many, who has left his blight on the galaxy.

"Are you joining me, or are you intent on staying in the shadows?"

The voice is so rough and crude that it shocks you, prickling over your skin with the all the coarseness of sandpaper, and you just barely refrain from showing your displeasure at its harshness. It's graveled as it passes into your ears, but it seizes one's attention instantly, causing the hairs scattered along your body and at the nape of your neck to stand on end. Still you move forward, by the impulse of your own intrigue or the authoritative quality of his voice, you aren't certain, but you cross the breadth that separates you all the same. Each step reveals more of his face to you. The slope of his nose, the crow's feet that cluster around the corners of his eyes, the prominent frown that weighs upon his face. He doesn't spare you a glance as you stop beside him; intently focused on what lies outside of the balcony.

"Lord Baron," you greet, nodding your head down and bending your knees in a curtsy.

His hand raises up in a manner than almost seems reprimanding, and it causes you to freeze still, staring at those fingers like he might mean to strike you. But the curl of them is far too lax to deliver a proper blow and it is enough to give you some relief.

"There is no need for formalities, " he speaks. Then his stare is on you: flaying you open, evaluating, weighing, searching your worth. But underneath the judgement of someone like him, you cannot waver. "We are family now, are we not?"

The mere implication has you fighting off the urge to shudder in disgust. Instead, you straighten yourself and manage a polite smile. Or you hope that it seems polite at least. Thankfully, he doesn't wait for your answer. He casts a brief glance to the vacant chair close you, and you need no verbal instruction on what he wants, even though he still gives it.

"Sit," he offers. Commands really.

It pains you to comply, to follow the will of the man that you have been guided to resent since you realized consciousness, no matter how small the order, but you swallow your pride.

Carefully you turn on your feet, being mindful not to nudge the small table that is posted beside the chair, and you make note of the pair of theater binoculars that are displayed on the counter, waiting to be used. Gathering the light pull of your skirt to sit without crumbling the fabric, you allow yourself to recline in the seat and try to ignore how close you are to the Baron. But you suppose that you should learn to come to terms with it. He will be a permanent fixture in your life, whether you like it or not. Though it does not make it any easier to swallow down the bitter taste of loathing on your tongue. Desperate for a distraction your eyes are quick to look out past the boarders of the balcony and the sight that greets you latches onto your focus instantly. It is a wonder how you had even managed to miss the view upon your entrance. But in your defense, you were a little preoccupied. Now you are hardly able to look away. The sheer mass of the structure leaves you captivated. Great, sweeping, walls rise; climbing up towards the blank heavens with rows of seats secured between the hulking barriers. Pale, shifting shapes roar and cheer inside the stands in a fervent display of excitement and anticipation. People you quickly realize. All of them chanting loudly. But the distortion their voices all layered up into a chaotic stream makes it difficult to understand it. The walls that hold them and the very room you sit in encircle a massive plot of bare earth. It is an arena.

You have seen a few of them in your lifetime. Visited the old coliseums on Caladan. The same ones that your very ancestors had fought wild bulls in. You walked along the ancient, stone walls and pillars, cupped the golden sand within your palm and allowed it to run through your fingers. But the sheer scale of this structure is mindboggling and the number of people that have all massed together to bear witness to its exhibition is even greater. The Mentat had promised you a celebration in the honor of your marriage, and you had been left to wonder what that said celebration may have been. But now you have your answer. There is the evidence of a ferocious fight having taken place in the arena. The face of the white sand bellow has been disturbed. Blemished and smudged by footprints and the clear sign of a struggle; that the fighters had rolled along the ground and tussled for their breath. But even more damning is the dark stains that are streaked and pooled along the course earth. Even with the coloration altered black by the dark sun above, you know that it is blood.

"A gladiator fight," you conclude aloud, and there is even an edge of scornful humor on your tone. "If you truly wanted a spectacle, you could have me thrown down there. I'm sure your people would love to watch an Atreides be slaughtered." You are not sure where the comment comes from. A sudden burst of confidence or perhaps defiance. You regret your snark as soon as you register the words, but it is too late for apologies now. You simply squeeze your clasped hands together tighter, even while your head is held high. A raspy, amused sound erupts from beside you, like air escaping a puncture, and you just vaguely realize that it is a chuckle. The Baron is laughing even as the smile hardly reaches his face. It is a small sound. Barely even qualifying as a laugh, but it eases you still.

"A spectacle indeed." He says it as though he is in on a secret that you are not privy to. Part of a joke you might never know, and it immediately snuffs out the small sense of composure that you had achieved. "But I have no use for you dead."

"Then what use do you have of me?" You pry.

He hums, a hushed, guttural sound. "Do you know why you are to be married to my nephew?"

The question gives you pause. There are many duties that you are required to perform in the union with the na-Baron. It is a political alliance first and foremost. A joining of two rival houses, meant to put to rest the animosity that has burned between you both for over 10,000 years. But it is also much more than that. You are to give him an heir as well, the continuation of his lineage. But the Harkonnen are not the only ones who intend for you to produce a child: the Bene Gesserit also demand a progeny of your union (though the Baron must remain ignorant to that design). It is why your mother had been sent the Duke in the first place, to correct Lady Jessica's mistake and birth a daughter. To birth you. So much is dependent on this marriage to flourish. Much that you yourself probably are not even privy to, but it is your duty to perform regardless. If you fail, your family name will forever be smeared and the possibility of the Kwisatz Haderach may be lost to eternity. And you will not allow your mother's death to be in vain.

"Yes."

Once more he turns his head to face you and his eyes glint with a deadly intensity. "Then you know of your purpose. "

It is a plain sentence, but it speaks volumes in its simplicity and its intent is not lost on you. It is a warning. A set of instructions that you are meant to follow. Keep your head down, your mouth shut and fulfil your function as promised and you may make it out of this arrangement unscathed. It has anger flaring in the pit of your stomach, prickling over your skin and heating up your face. The desire to say something in defense of yourself rises up high, but you know that you must hold your tongue. You are sure that he can see your opposition in your eyes as much as you try to control it, but he does not mention it. His vision roves over your visage like he is studying you and your reactions, in search of weakness.

"Now watch." He says and returns his attention back to the bloodied sand beneath.

Your eyebrows furrow, openly showing you confusion. What the Baron desires you to see, you don't know. You can hardly imagine what he has in store for you but given the nature of the arena and the Baron himself, it surely won't bode well for you. You don't dare to question him or ask that he elaborate. Your mouth remains fixed shut as you survey the colosseum with your breath locked within your lungs. An unwanted type of anticipation prickles at your fingertips and toes; spurred on by the way that the crowd rouses into a frenzy and the vibrations of their riotous cries strike across the atmosphere. The sound of their shouting spikes until it is thunderous, and you can hear the blunt sound of their fists beating against the stadium like a hammer striking down on an iron nail. Despite the many voices overlapping and yelling to be heard of the others, somehow in their clamoring, their words have become clearer. And it is not just words that they are spouting. It is a name.

Feyd-Rautha.

You are certain that your lungs cease to function. That they die inside your chest while you still live. The na-Baron is going to fight. You're going to see him. Despite wanting to slip your eyes closed, your body betrays you, leading you to scour along the dark sweeping walls of the arena in a terrified search that does not stop until your vision lands on what looks to be a massive entrance built into the bordering wall of the colosseum. Your heart flutters like a startled bird, quivering wildly like a pair of wings would. "I thought my father said that we would not see each other before the wedding?"

"He said that he could not look at you. But there was no discussion of you witnessing him," the Baron answers.

You do not know why the prospect of it makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat, wishing that you could sink into the cushion and vanish. Perhaps it's because seeing him would truly sink the severity of your new reality in. There would truly be no avoiding it once you do. All you can think of is all of the rumors and gossip that you had heard over the many years. The horrible tales of a psychopath. A man unhinged. No better than a rabid dog on a frayed rope. People spoke of a remorseless monster that delighted in blood and was unflinching in delivering death. Other's claimed that his appearance is just as terrifying as his actions. That he's gaunt and hideous to behold with awful, jagged teeth and bloodshot eyes.

That is not a truth that you are ready to face, and your desire to remain ignorant to the possibility of his unsightly features burns in your gut. You are so caught up in your own anxieties that you hardly register the blaring of the announcer's voice sounding across the stadium, warbling over the sound system to praise and declare the arrival of the man who you have been dreading. You're entirely conflicted; transfixed as the entrance on the far end of the arena begins to slip open, even though your instincts tell you to turn your focus elsewhere. The floor, your hands, the crazed crowd. Anything. But is like watching a great fire or a calamity. The entire time your consciousness warns you not to look, but you are unable to. It is almost as if you have been casted under a horrible spell. Bewitched to see him even though you don't wish to.

You stare helplessly at the threshold of the arena, and for a moment you wonder if it might be the entrance to the underworld instead. A dark, consuming void for a demon to come crawling out of. But this demon does not crawl. He marches.

A figure strides out from the gateway wielding two recurved blades and the crowd erupts in an exhilarated cry. From the distance and height, you are unable to discern his features, but the way that he carries himself is already more than enough to give insight to his personality. His steps are long, eating up the ground in quick, measured paces; his shoulders are raised and straight, exuding pride. It's the saunter of someone confident in themselves and their abilities. Someone who is not just in their element but basking in it. He raises an arm high in the air, brandishing his fist and the weapon he clutches in it to address the masses, pointing the tip of the blade to sky as it erupts in a flurry of strange fireworks that burst and flourish like blots of heavy ink. The crowd punch their own arms up in turn and shout his name like an impassioned prayer.

The apprehension chilling your chest begins to thaw, giving way to a strange sort of curiosity and before you know it, you're reaching for the theater binoculars placed on the table beside you. Anticipation thrums in your veins, nearly making your fingers shake around your grip of the handle as you lift the device up to your face, lining it up to peer into the eyepieces. It takes a moment for your brain to process what it is seeing. Who it's seeing. It's surreal how his once distant, blurred features have become clear and amplified underneath the optics of the binoculars. The familiarity of him strikes you like an unforgiving wave despite never having met him before. But everything, from his gait and the shape of his face seems as though you have gazed upon it a thousand times, ran your fingertips across the rise of his cheek bones and the plains of his face even though you haven't. The familiarity terrifies you, but it also keeps your attention firmly locked onto him.

What catches your attention first are his eyes. It is difficult to tell their shade from underneath the monochrome emittance of the sun - they seem dark but some buried, distant instinct whispers that they're truly blue. A light shade akin the ocean, glittering in shades of pale cerulean and teal. It strikes you how they burn with a calculated excitement. A dangerous, fervid type of delight as he gauges the crowd with rapt attention. Even with the intense light bathing most of the scenery shades of white you know that the pale complexion of his skin is natural. Paired with the sharp angles that create his features it makes him seem as though he could have been cut from marble; a statue gifted with life and will. His lips, you shamelessly notice, are plush, and are set into a soft pout.

Even with resentment for the Harkonnen still fueling your heartbeat you're unable to deny that the stories and claims that you had heard about his appearance were awful exaggerations. Absolute lies. You don't want to admit it, but there is a kind of beauty about him. Not one that you would have found on your home planet, but he's quite attractive in a way that is almost lethal. It strikes you in a way that it shouldn't.

You continue to watch him as he comes to halt in the center of the arena, twisting his feet in a circle to look upon every section of the crowd before facing the direction of the balcony. He begins to lower himself to the ground, resting a single knee onto the sand in a sort of bow. All the while his eyes are trained upward, dangerously close to where you sit and you know that he's looking towards the Baron, kneeling to show his respects. All you can do is pray that he will pay your presence no mind. That he won't care enough to acknowledge you.

It seems that the universe has no desire to answer your prayers this day.

His dark focus flickers onto you so suddenly that you hardly have time to register it. As your eyes meet through the glass of the device, you suddenly feel as though you have been laid bare. The deafening cries of the masses fade down into a distant hum as all of your focus centers down onto him. You've never felt so exposed in your life. Like all of your every part of you has been spread open and seen; the darkest facets of you are held forward. It's like he's actually seeing you somehow. Peering at you through the distance that keeps you apart. But it's impossible for him to truly make out your features underneath the guise of the decorative chains that drapes over your face. He can't properly see you from your place this high. Still it feels as if he is looking directly at you, past the distortion of the distance and the cover of your veil and peering into your soul.

You drop the pair of binoculars away from your face, severing the image of his focused gaze and the odd connection that had been created. Still you can't drop your attention from his figure down in the arena, but the loss of the close, magnified image of the device offers you some type of reprieve. He had felt too close, too near with their usage and the distance helps to soothe you. And with your regular vision provided to you, you are able to notice the other entrances posted along the walls are opening.

The na-Baron realizes this as well. His head cocks in the direction of the open threshold to his far left, rising up from his crouched stance to properly assess it, eyes trained on the dark gapping gateway as a man ambles out from the shadows. Two others emerge from separate doorways on opposite sides of the colosseum, and Feyd-Rautha shifts his body to appraise them both in their slow approach. The three of them all but shamble towards the na-Baron, feet dragging lethargically across the sand like they caught under a drunken stupor. The realization dawns on you easily, and you are unable to stop yourself from turning to face the Baron with bewildered scowl. "They're drugged?" You accuse, sparing no judgement in your tone.

"We cannot risk the safety of the na-Baron," he explains without shame, and draws a deep drag from a smoking pipe clutched within his hand. "Measures must be taken."

You want to argue. But what use would that be? There is not an ounce of remorse or shame in his body. You've known this for years; you didn't have to meet him to realize that. You have heard countless tales of the Harkonnen's selfishness and deceit, so it should be no surprise that they're underhanded enough to rig a fight to the death in their favor. That they couldn't even do their slaves and prisoners the respect of dying in a fair fight. And the na-Baron stands so proudly in the center of that ring, holding himself high as though the scales have not been tipped in his favor. You knew that you were to wed a sadist. A violent, venomous man. It was a shame that you had to marry one that is also dishonorable.

In the prisoners' approach, blackened figures seem to materialize from the walls of the arena looking like creatures out of a twisted fable. There is a great number of them, six you believe, if your hasty count does not fail you, all clad in a dark skintight material. But even more strangely are the horned headdresses that they all wear; it extends over their countenances to make them appear faceless and inhuman. They vigilantly wander along the border of the arena, and some even dare to skulk close to the slaves as they near the na-Baron, wielding some sort of weapon within their hands like they are prepared to strike the fighters if necessary. They must be referees of some sort, but their costumes make them look like dark spirits instead.

This game truly is devised in Feyd-Rautha's favor.

The gladiator-slave that approaches from the left is the closest, covering the distance that separates him and the na-Baron quickly despite being lamed by the hinderance of drugs. With the raucous roar of the crowd resonating across the air, the suspense is palpable, hanging heavy and almost painful like a breath that has been held for too long and the people are desperate for release. You can't help the way that you watch expectantly, holding onto the handle of the binoculars like it might help keep you grounded while you observe Feyd-Rautha from the safety of your perch.

He faces the approaching fighter. And for a moment you think that he is going to make the man hobble to over to him entirely, too cruel or perhaps even lazy to meet his competitor head on. But when the fighter brandishes his sword in an overreaching arch Feyd lunges forward on spry feet, cutting up the small remaining bit of distance with two massive strides and blocks the blade with his own. The arc that the prisoner had raised his weapon in was far too high. It left his most vital organs exposed to be gutted, and the blink of an eye the na-Baron takes the opening, deftly shoving the tip of his opposing weapon into the man's stomach and driving it in deep. The fighter's body goes limp near instantly, the hand holding his weapon slackens and when Feyd-Rautha pulls his sword from his opponent's stomach, he stumbles back on weak legs before tipping back onto the sand, lying belly up in a dead weight to bleed out on the ground.

You have heard of death all your life. Soldiers of your house have shared their stories of gore and anguish to you before. The horrors of the battlefield. And you yourself are no stranger to blood and bruises, having been trained by the best of your father's ranks and even Lady Jessica herself in the ways of fighting and hand to hand combat. Your teachings were meant for survival. Defense. But this is senseless murder set in the guise of entertainment. Cruelty.

Feyd-Rautha does not share the sentiment. He twists around to face the remaining fighters, mouth twisted into a feral snarl, muscles tense, ready to deliver another killing blow. He is clearly on some type of rush after claiming his first kill and his eyes dart between the pair of gladiators, gauging which one to attack first. Both of the prisoners have synced their steps as best as they can, with one coming towards the na-Baron from the front while the other nears from the back, intending to slay him together.

But Feyd does not appear to be stressed by the prospect in the slightest, in fact you are sure that even from your elevated height you can still make out the presence of a smile on his lips. Delighted and fueled by the rush of adrenaline and the hope of slaughter. He evaluates them both carefully, waiting them out. He doesn't have to wait long though, because suddenly the one who stands behind is rushing towards him in a move that is entirely too impatient, the lapse in judgement probably brought on by the influence of the substance coursing through his veins. The other fighter is still too far from Feyd to offer any assistance, making them both fail in their effort to overwhelm him and attack at once. The na-Baron deflects the strike of the prisoner's sword easily, shoving the man back with the union of their blades to create enough space to deliver a harsh bone rattling kick to the man's bare chest. He stumbles back a few feet, dust spraying in his flounder as he struggles to collect himself from the soiled earth.

Feyd doesn't have time to strike him down while he is vulnerable, because the second fighter finally reaches him, dipping his body low with the intent to strike his sword into the na-Baron's unguarded back, aimed for the spine. But Feyd is unsurprised by the attack; smooth and effortless in his movements as he rotates around on his feet to slip from the blades course and with the glint of silver the man's throat is sliced as he passes the na-Baron. You hardly would have realized that his neck had been cut at all if not for the way that rivulets of black have begun to pour from the wound, slipping down the pale hue of his skin and dripping to the bleached sand below before he collapses.

The crowd somehow manages to erupt with even more passion to goad their na-Baron on dispatching the last man. But Feyd doesn't move on prisoner while he's still down on the ground, up righting himself on sluggish, weak knees. It is hard to stomach the sight of it, and you're certain that you can feel the oily, distant impression of nausea bubbling in your stomach. It urges you to look away, but you can't. You are frozen still. Locked into place as you watch Feyd pace around the arena like a predator stalking the bars of its enclosure. He's impatient in his wait for the fighter to finally get up on his feet, and you find yourself a little disbelieving that he would even allow the prisoner that little bit of respect, instead of slaying him while he was down and unable to properly defend himself. Maybe there is some honor in him after all. It's buried and diluted, but it seems there may be a shred of it still.

The gladiator finally raises himself to his feet, spreading his legs wide to distribute his weight between his feeble legs. You can see resolve slip across the man's body, straightening his shoulders as best as he can to secure the grip he has on his weapon. But it only prompts more of that amusement to flicker over Feyd's features before he springs towards his opponent. They meet in the clash of lethal blades, and their bodies twist and move like well-oiled machines. Even being drugged and exhausted, the prisoner's movements are powerful and practiced, but you doubt that it will be much of a match for Feyd. He has too many aspects in his favor. The game has fully been fabricated for his victory. But even with that in mind, you would be foolish not to acknowledge the way that the na-Baron uses his body. It is truly a sight - hypnotic almost. The slices he takes with his sword and the strikes that he bares down at his rival are tight. Swift, calculated blows that are charged with raw strength. He acts with pure, practiced confidence. It's clear that the art of combat comes as easily as breathing to him; second nature. The sight of him dodging and deflecting jabs underneath the extreme shine of the dim sun is an impressive display, and you can't help but wonder how well he would fair under the pressure of a fight with real stakes.

Maybe it was the controlled vehemence of his maneuvers and how skillfully he brandishes his blade, but you think that he would thrive.

The gladiator is still alive, outlasting all of his fellow prisoners and it's honestly a wonder that he has made it this far. But you don't miss the casual way that Feyd holds himself, the security in the slices he delivers and how easily he dodges and moves around his opponent. Often dipping low into the man's space to nick his flesh with small, annoying cuts before dancing out of his field of reach. He's playing with him. Drawing out the fight like a bored cat toying with a wounded mouse. You can see the hope and determination dying in the gladiator with each passing second; it melts from his limbs, giving way to a venomous, mindless agitation. It makes him sloppy.

He leaps at Feyd with little thought, desperate to get a decent lick in but the timing is once again ill and his body too open. The mistake does not go ignored and the na-Baron uses the mishap to sweep his opponents legs out from underneath him. And curiously, he casts one of his blades aside, banishing it to the sand. But you don't have to wonder for long before his hand strikes out like a serpent to grip ahold of the fighter's hair, using the leverage he has on the sluggish prisoner's head to harshly force him down and secure him on his knees. You can see the way that the man's face twists into a pained grimace, teeth gnashed together to fight off his agony as he pants raggedly, chest rising and falling with labored breaths. Feyd stands behind him like some sort of figure of death. A creature sent to drag weary, tortured souls to their end.

You see the gladiators loose grip twitch around the handle of his sword, struggling to build up the last remaining scraps of his energy to swing the blade back and drive into the na-Baron's ribcage. But he doesn't have time to deliver the blow. Feyd raises his own weapon, hitching his arm back to build up tension in his hold. In that exact moment, you are certain that your eyes meet. That somehow, between the distance, his gaze reaches your own, focused in its intent like he is looking for your approval, like he is gifting you a sacrifice in your honor. You hardly have time to think of the implications of it before he drives the sword forward into the back of his victim's neck, severing the man's spinal cord and shoving it forward until the tip of the blade peeks through his throat. It is a horrid display of brutality. The violent sight almost forces a gasp from you, and you can feel your body shudder at the presentation of it. Your mind has long since gone blank, too rattled and shocked to form a coherent thought and the frenzied way the masses arise and breakout into a rapturous applause fills you brain like a haze with the wicked, rhythmic chanting of his name.

He extracts the blade from the captive's body, spraying a dark splatter of blood across the pale sand with the pull and lifts the gore-soaked weapon up into the air in a silent claim of his victory.

"Is he everything you had imagined?"

The Baron's course timbre breaks you from your daze. Your head swivels to him like a doll, but the challenge proposed in his tone rouses your focus to the center. He wants you to be afraid. To shy away from his nephew. Why you aren't sure. Perhaps he simply enjoys the idea of an Atreides cowering, but you will give him no such pleasure. You harden your gaze before you speak next, making sure to project your resolve clearly when you answer.

"He's perfect." It scares you because it doesn't even feel like a lie. It leaves your tongue too easily, like the compliment belonged there. Like your body and soul held it as a truth that you aren't ready to accept, and you're not sure how to cope with that. But what you say next surprises you even more.

"I want to meet him."

A part of you had hoped that the Baron would refuse your request. That he would stick to firm to your father's traditions and prohibit you from seeing the na-Baron until the wedding ceremony. But you know better than to think that he would honor or be controlled by old superstitions. All too soon you find yourself being led by timid servant who wordlessly guides you deep into the inner depths of the arena. The look that the Baron had spared you before you left had been unsettling and sharp, and it made you wonder if you have agreed to go to your own execution. In your descent, the rabid cries of the masses fade into a distant warble, and with it, the corridors become dim and chilled like the walls of a forgotten crypt. The caution in your gut churns with that treacherous sense of anticipation and you struggle to concentrate past the separation in your emotions. You're not sure if you should be fearful or intrigued and it leaves you caught between a confusing sort of purgatory.

The little bit of suspense hanging over you reminds you of when you used to dream about meeting him when you were both young. Nearly longed for it even, when you'd lose yourself to childish flights of fancy and daydreamed of love and adoration. It scares you to think that the sense of pining you had once entertained for him may have never truly gone away. Even with the stories of his brutish conquests, a blemish on your naive yearning. A stain of red; soaked with the scent of iron and viscera.

The sight of his violent display down in the arena seemed to confirm all of the horrid rumors that you have heard throughout the years. His indifference towards death, how casually he is able to take a life. It should all disgust you. And to a degree it does. It coats your tongue with something acetous and tart. It makes a shiver threaten to tremble down your spine. But as much as you wish to hide from it, you can't deny that he intrigues you. That the sight of him gazing upon you from the ashen sands of the colosseum like you were an ambiguity that he desired to unravel made your body thrum. You wonder if he would look at you so openly in the same way once you are both on even ground. Or if perhaps, some pathetic, traitorous part of you had simply imagined it.

The servant stops suddenly before a wide threshold, forcing you to still in your tracks to watch as she steps to the side and bows silently without so much as meeting your eyes. And then she leaves, turning sharply on her feet with the gentle echo of her feet pattering along the obsidian floor while she skitters away.

You're on your own now.

You're not sure what you will find when you cross this barrier: pain, misery . . . pleasure. A primordial type of anxiousness wells up inside of you, screaming at you to turn heel and run. You could do so easily. Escape these dismal, tenebrous chambers before he even realizes that you're here. But you're quick to squash that wild impulse. It is a dangerous thing to entertain. You must eliminate that urge all together. You're not an animal. You are an Atreides. A Bene Gesserit. You have survived the Gom Jabbar. You passed the test. And you will survive this.

With no further hesitation you step forward, focusing on sound of your dress whispering over the floor as a means to center yourself. As soon as you cross the threshold it opens up into a massive space, but the shadows are so thick and vast here that it is difficult to see where the walls truly begin or end. A pair of servant girls stand in the corner, just as rigid and silent as the others that you've seen so far, standing with their backs to the wall like they mean to merge into the shadows and hide. The only light to speak of pours from the ceiling, broadening in its descent to encapsulate the massive round pool that sits in the center of the room like a spotlight. And there, lounging along the far end of the bath with his arms draped along the border, relaxed in the murky, steaming water, is the na-Baron.

When your eyes meet you have to wonder if this is what prey feels like when locked within the gaze of a wolf; poised to lunge and jaws longing to bite. The way that he had gazed upon you in the arena had been appraising and seeking. Like he was sizing you up and searching for your favor all at once. But something in his stare has shifted since then and dipped into something searing and stifling, and it serves as an obtrusive reminder of who you've willingly confined yourself alone with. But you're unable to stop yourself from admiring him as he does to you. Roving your examination over his face, and you find your attention captivated there. The glow of the florescent lighting reveals a delicate cream undertone in his skin, and the light blush in his lips that had been hidden outside, stunted by the black sun. It breathes a sense of life into him, and nearly separates him from the otherworldly image that had been crafted by the violence he had basked in earlier.

"You must be lost."

The voice that speaks abruptly is husky and inflected with an accented lilt that blends into the rasp of it. It buzzes over your skin, and you can feel it murmur across your fingertips, but it is not enough to distract you from the confusion that sparks in you from the comment. He must notice the perplexed look that crosses your face because you don't even get time to ask him for clarification before he speaks next. "We're not to see each other. Or was that a lie?"

If you didn't know any better, you would have thought that he sounds insulted. Like the mere suggestion of you not meeting each other before the wedding had been a great offence. But surely it simply came from a place of ego and not genuine rejection or hurt. That would require affection. And that is an emotion that you're certain the na-Baron is incapable of. Still, regardless of if he truly harbors a sense of fondness for you are not, keeping this relationship as cordial as possible is in your best interest for both of your sakes.

"It wasn't a lie," you finally answer, clasping your hands together in front of yourself. "But I wanted to congratulate you on your win. . . And to finally see the man that I am intended to marry." The final admittance comes out somewhat reluctantly. But it catches his attention still. You can see the intrigue openly flit through his eyes and he tilts his head while he surveys your from across the room in a curious manner.

"And what do you think?"

You are not sure if the question is in reference to himself or his performance in the arena. Either way, your answer still stands. Though you find yourself reluctant to reveal it, even while it burns in your throat. But the way that the na-Baron watches you with a glimmer of restrained vehemence in his heavy stare almost rips the truth from the depths of your chest. But your eyes pointedly flicker back over to the servants in the corner before moving back over to the na-Baron. The question hangs heavy in the air, silently exchanged between the two of you.

"Leave us," he dismisses firmly, without removing his gaze from you. They nearly spring forward on their feet, vision casted down on the floor as they cross the room and vanish past the threshold like a pair of phantoms. You catch the subtle nod of his head as he watches you, and it is hard to tell if it is done with disinterest or an air of mocking. "There. You may speak freely now."

You don't hold in your answer now. "Disappointed," you say firmly, and you're thankful that your voice comes out stronger than you feel. A palpable shift rushes over the room. It is frigid. Moving over the blackened walls like a cold front and seeping into your bones; brought on by the subtle vexation that shifts across his features. You can see the muscles along his shoulders and the plains of his chest ripple underneath his pallid skin, tensing in his ire. It has you stuck in place like the bottoms of your feet have been glued to the floor. It doesn't feel like you're in a room with a man but sharing the space with a hunter that has its teeth and claws poised to slice. But you know that you can't cower. Not with men like him. If you give him and inch, he'll take a mile. And if you are going to make it out of this arrangement alive, you're going to have to try to stand on even ground. "That fight. It was supposed to be in my honor. But it isn't much of a victory if your opponents are impaired with drugs."

"It was out of my hands," comes his answer. It nearly could have been overtly defensive if he hadn't delivered it so steadily and direct. It's a knee jerk reaction to assume that he is lying. It has been instilled in you since birth to be wary of the Harkonnen and their words. And perhaps it is simply a dangerous form of hope, but the intuition in your gut promises you that he is telling the truth. But even then, it is difficult to find forgiveness.

"And you fought anyway."

"Careful." His voice cuts across the atmosphere like a sharp growl. He bares his teeth with the warning, letting you catch a glimpse of that dark snarl and for a moment your mind treacherously imagines what it would be like to feel the sharpness of it grazing along your skin. "I've taken tongues for less."

The threat does not strike fear in you like it should have. Like you expected it to. The longer you spend in Feyd-Rautha's presence, the more that your initial caution begins to ebb away. For better or for worse, confidence seeps in to take its place. You shock yourself for the second time today by moving towards him instead of backing away like someone with common sense would. Though if you're being honest with yourself, you have always flirted with danger. The temptation towards things that you should not want has always taken you to places not meant for you, and it is a trait that your family and teachers alike had struggled to dissuade. That you yourself have always fought. But you can't resist the urge to close the distance between you and him, following after it blindly like you're being tugged along by an invisible string.

He trails your approach with that calculated sort of interest, fully invested on your form as you carry yourself up the pair of steps. You continue to move even once you reach the final platform, but your feet do not stop moving. It is like some subconscious part of you is determined to cut as much distance between you and the na-Baron as possible. He doesn't tear his attention from you once. It's fully fixed to you as you saunter around the boarder of the bath like he couldn't bear to look away from you, and it fuels you to keep moving forward, only stopping once you stand beside him. He turns his head to gaze up at you from his position, studying you as he lounges.

"I'd save that for after the wedding, it may be difficult to say my vows otherwise." You level him with a firm stare as your tone shifts from subtly sardonic to hardened, and possibly even disappointed. " Though I'm glad to know where we stand."

You see something harden in his gaze. What, you are not sure, but the ferocity of it makes you breathless and something heated stirs in your gut.

"I mean you no ill will," he assures you, as if he had not just threatened you just a moment before. But the gravelly tone of his voice is distracting. It courses over your skin like an electrical current, humming and warm across your body. "I will bring you the heads of a thousand men if it pleases you."

It's not the admission itself that shocks you. You know that slaughter comes naturally to the na-Baron. You have witnessed that firsthand. But the sincerity and passion that cradled his words made it sound like a promise. A vow. And you know for certain that he is being purely honest. It floods you with disbelief. The way that he watches you is raw. Vulnerable but not weak or insecure. He said it with the zeal of a devout follower speaking of their faith. Full of hunger, reverence and sincerity. It makes your knees weaken and the oxygen in your lungs is suddenly useless. The devotion burning in the dark hold of his stare is something that you never imagined Feyd-Rutha could be capable of. You know that it is not love. That you are not naive enough to believe. But it is admiration. Consuming and wanting. It is almost frightening how he looks at you. Like you are an oasis, a banquet, and he is a man parched and starved. It only draws you to him even more. Like a moth fluttering closer to an open flame; hoping to be burned in its welcoming, vicious warmth.

"Why?" Your voice comes out weakened. You nearly pant, trying to breath around the fit of your bodice. It has suddenly become too tight, squeezing around your ribcage and sweltering against your skin.

He does not answer immediately. Instead he rises from the depths of the dark water, shifting to turn his body to yours, causing the water to ripple and gleam underneath the light. You can smell the perfume of the oil on his skin, fresh and warm like amber. A scandalous part of you is tempted to glance downward, even though you know that the height of the dusky liquid still hides the most intimate parts of him, but you are unable to tear your eyes away from his. They look like heavy black chasms, drawing you in and stealing your focus until he is all you can see. You can just vaguely register that he's stepping closer to you. He angles his head as he draws near, and you feel the point of his nose brush over yours through the chilled chains of your veil; the warmth of his body seeps past the barrier of your dress and sinks in deep, settling between the cradle of your hips.

"You and I; we belong together." He says it like it is a fact. A creed. To him it is. He beholds you like you are something worth worship. And the thought of having such a formidable man observing you as though you were an answer that he has been seeking makes something in you burn. It is scorching. Powerful. It knocks you breathless. "I dream of you."

The admittance makes you gasp. You briefly wonder how he could possibly have been touched by the sight of visions. Much less ones of you. How he had managed to see you in his sleep just as you had seen glimpses of him. But your marveling is quickly flooded and overruled by images of your own past dreams dancing and flashing in your mind. Pale hands sweeping across your body and leaving white-hot trails in their wake; the sting and glide of teeth and tongue; the musk and salt of sweat in your mouth. It rouses a heady sense of curiosity inside of you. And when he raises a hand and slips it underneath your veil to cup your cheek, sweeping his thumb over the shape of your lips, it makes your interest burn hotter. When you speak next your voice nearly catches in your throat. "What do you see? In your dreams."

The weight of his stare pulls you in and grips you tightly, heavy with a wild sort of hunger that might eat you alive. When he speaks next, the smoky rumble of his voice courses over you and clouds your head with a low mist. "Let me show you."

You are not sure when he had slipped the veil from over your face and off of your head, but you hear it fall behind you. Hitting the floor with a sharp, twinkling clatter. But you hardly pay it any mind. Too entranced on the heat of Feyd's palm cupping your face, holding you close while his heavy, heated stare bores into your own and in your haze, you admire that they are truly a shade of blue, just as those old visions promised. A gorgeous splash of color caught in a world of black and white. He shifts closer to you - as much as the low edge of the bath will allow, and with it you feel the sultry impression of his body heat glides over you. The cradle of his hand on your face slips from its place, traveling downward until it reaches your neck. Your heart skips a beat when the hold of his fingers reaches around your throat, and you're sure that he could feel the wild pulse of it fluttering against his palm. A flicker of amusement passes through his gaze, and suddenly it feels like some kind of test. He wants to see if you'll crack and flounder while he holds your life in his grip. But you find that the urge to flee has vanished. It's been wrung from you as though it had never been there, and suddenly you can't understand why you had ever wanted to run in the first place.

The pressure of his hand tightens like he means to squeeze the air out of you and to block your breath. Fear doesn't rise up to greet you. This isn't a challenge that you have the desire to shrink away from. You want more of it. Of him. You lean into his touch instead, tilting your chin back to bare your throat to him, and you see a ravenous type of delight pass over his expression when you do. The weight fixed around your neck; the heady scent of the rich ointment wafting from his skin dips more of that intoxicated haze over you.

For a moment you wonder if he might actually rip the oxygen from your lungs and attempt to send you to your death. The tight hold of his hand and the dark look glittering in his eyes imply that he might. But then his hold goes light, and you nearly mourn the loss when he allows his fingers to slip from around your neck. Disgracefully, you almost feel a low whine rising to the tip of your tongue. A desperate plead to have his touch on you again. But like an answer to your silent prayer, his hands unanimously run down your body, roving dangerously close to your breasts, leaving your skin tingling in their wake as they trail down and past your ribs to settle on your hips.

Time seems to slow when his fingers pluck at the smooth fabric of your skirt, bunching the material up into the cradle of his palms until it starts to slip up and over your legs, gradually revealing more and more of you. He doesn't stop until its rucked up enough to slip his hands underneath your dress, and you silently gasp at the warmth of his palms blossoming over your hips. His fingertips dig into your skin harshly enough that you know it'll be tender tomorrow, but you welcome the sting.

You can see the silent question glimmer in his eyes. The whisper of his nose gliding over your own and the nearness of his lips beckon that you come closer. He steps back just enough to allow you space, and without further prompting you lift your legs over the lip of the bath. The water is nearly scorching when you slink inside, nearly sweeping up to your waist and encapsulating you like melted wax. His grip on you didn't waver or weaken as you moved. If anything, it grew stronger, like he was worried you might slip away from him, even though the idea of escaping is a faint memory for you now.

When he tilts his head closer to yours, you think that he finally might kiss you and satiate the restless hunger that's been buzzing between the both of you. You feel the low brush of his breath against you lips when he speaks, and the throaty rasp of his voice curls out in one word:

"Beg."

It gives you pause. As soon as you hear it something defiant rises inside of you. But it isn't aggressive or wildly so. It's languid and playful. Testing. Despite the shred of desperation that you had nearly caved into earlier, you have no desire to give in so easily now. You aren't going to roll over so quickly. Not without good reason.

"No," you answer calmy, resisting, even when lust burns in your veins. "Give me a reason to."

In truth, you aren't sure where the burst of confidence comes from. Your experience with things of this nature - the touch of a man and pleasure, isn't nonexistent. You've indulged in a few nights tangled in the arms of a random temporary lover. Secretive kisses exchanged in dimly lit corridors, the ecstasy of a mouth between your thighs. But the art of it is not something that you have fully grasped onto. Flirtation and conviction in regard to sex doesn't come naturally to you. So you aren't sure why you feel inclined to tease him like you know what you're doing. But you want the challenge. Some twisted, perverted side of you wants to see the glint of the psychotic excitement that he had displayed in the arena. You want his hands on you while his eyes burn with that unrestrained ferocity. It's dangerous to goad him on. To taunt him like you understand him. You're playing a dangerous game. Like prodding at a wild animal in its enclosure, or waving a blazing, red flag in front of a pacing bull.

A fearful part of you expects for him to get angry. That he might lash out and punish you assuming that you could toy with him so freely. Maybe he'll remind you of your intended place and tell you that you aren't equals. That you mean nothing to him. But he doesn't do any of those things. Instead, he sinks down to his knees, lowering himself until the water rises up to his chest. His eyes don't stray from you once, and the hold on your hips remains firm. The intent and hunger in his eyes nearly make you lightheaded. He watches you in a way that's starved. It has you wondering if you're going to make it out of this alive. But a stronger part of you can't wait to be torn apart.

His hold on your hips gently nudges at you, guiding you to lower yourself until you're seated on the edge of the bath. You spread your legs without him having to ask, and you can see the hint of an arrogant smile perking at the corners of his mouth when one of his hands sweep down to your knee, prying it open. Anticipation simmers inside of you, searing deep inside of your gut like a hot ember. You feel his fingers sweep along your undergarment, hooking his fingers underneath the fabric to tear the delicate scrap of clothing from your hips as though it was made from paper. It stings against your skin when it snaps free, breaking with a sharp hiss as it rips apart.

You watch in awe when he lifts the frayed fabric up to his nose to draw in a heavy inhale. Embarrassment prickles at your face when you realize that he's breathing in the arousal that had soaked your underwear. It's vulgar. Filthy. But it has excitement buzzing over you and seeping into your bones. You hardly pay attention when he tosses the tattered fabric somewhere across the room, too transfixed as he leans himself forward between your knees, making a space for himself around the cradle of your thighs, hovering dangerously close to where you need him the most.

His stare pierces yours, digging a place for himself in your mind and soul, and latching on as he delivers a promise. "I'll make you scream."

Coming from anyone else it would have made you scoff or roll your eyes and cringe. Despite your inexperience, it's a line that you've heard before only to be met with utter disappointment. But you can feel the determination rolling from him, and you know that it isn't a lie. Still, you're prepared to say something snarky. To try and knock him down a peg or two before he's even started, but you never get the chance.

His head is between your thighs in an instant, spreading you open with his tongue, hot and sweltering against you. It wrenches a startled cry from your chest, and your hands scramble blindly to support yourself, clinging onto the chilled edge of the bath and the damp warmth of Feyd's shoulder so that you don't tip over. He's only just started, and his enthusiasm already leaves you suspended in disbelief. He works his mouth against you with a ravenous intensity, swiping his tongue over you before dipping it deep inside of you in a way that has liquid pleasure pouring over your body; making your nerves light up like wild, hot sparks. Your hips lift up in a mindless roll, grinding over his mouth to chase after the curl of his tongue, and he follows after the sway of your body, unshaken by your desperation.

Already you feel like you've been lit on fire. Dipped in a pool of nectar and bliss. It has your legs quivering, tensing and flexing with every suck and stoke from his mouth. It pulls ragged gasps from your heaving lungs, and you just faintly register the airy, punched out breaths lightly echoing off of the walls of the room. You can hear the wet drag of his lips and tongue licking at your cunt, tipping you closer and closer to euphoria. It's filthy. Utterly debauched. The very notion of the daughter of a Duke sleeping with a man before her wedding - fiancé or not - is scandalous, and you should be entirely ashamed that you've even wound up in this position at all. But you can't manage to find a single ounce of humiliation in your body. You're in too deep now. Nothing else matters but this moment. Nothing except for him.

Your head rolls down on your neck, and you're immediately insnared by the sight of him watching you. Most of his face is hidden by the skirt of your dress bunched around your waist, how your thighs frame his head, but you can see his eyes clearly. A haughty sense of excitement dances in them, clearly pleased with the mess that he's already made of you. You want nothing more than to wipe that arrogant look from his face, but it's almost like he can sense the quip that you're prepared to use, because the wet heat of his mouth licks over you before he closes his lips around your clit and your mind glazes over. He drags the hint of teeth over you, lighting up fire in their wake and then he sucks. Your back bows tight, breasts heaving underneath your dress, and you openly sob. But he offers you no reprieve, no chance to breathe.

With little warning he slips a finger into the wet entrance of your cunt, forcing your walls to stretch around the width of it as he curls it deep. You've touched yourself before. Used you own fingers to pleasure yourself, and you've only ever felt the hand of one other man before. A random soldier amongst the Atreides ranks, but that had been some time ago. The width of Feyd's is much bigger than your own. Thick and long enough that a single one has you gasping. The stretch of it nearly burns. But it builds a heavy ache between the apex of your thighs, rooting itself so deeply along your spine that it tears another watery cry from you. The motion of your hips turns choppy, losing your rhythm in your desperation to reach the scorching pleasure that looms over you like a wall of fire. He barely gives you time to adjust to the first finger before he's inserting another in alongside it, making the muscles of your abdomen contract and wildly. The walls of your cunt flutter around the thickness of his fingers; your body desperate to fall into the throes of release.

The fullness of it makes your mouth drop open in a silent scream, forcefully teetering you along the edge of something all-consuming and debilitating. You can taste it searing on your tongue, feel it on your fingertips and all the way down to your toes. Uninhibited moans and broken mewls of his name have begun to spill from your mouth. Punched out of you by the ceaseless drag of his tongue and weight of his finger inside of you, crooking along your walls with nasty, wet squelches to shove you closer and closer to that shattering precipice. It forces out a gutted cry that nearly stings on its way out, and you can feel Feyd's pleased laughter reverberate over your flesh in response, and the low tremors only inject more rapture into your veins. It's so close. Welling and foaming up like boiling water; a rising tide that threatens to sweep you and drown you.

All at once it stops.

You cry out like you've been wounded when he tears his mouth from you and removes his fingers from your cunt, leaving you empty and aching. You don't even try to hide your betrayed scowl as you glare down at his face, which looks entirely too delighted for your liking. Your lungs struggle around a ragged gasp, making your voice catch in your throat. "Wha- why you did sto-"

The question hardly has time to leave you before he turns his head and sinks his teeth into the plush skin of your inner thigh. It sears across your nerves, molten and white-hot, ripping a pained yelp from your chest. The smile on his face is pleased, stretched wide into that dark, impish grin. Your attention is stuck on him as he drops his jaw open, holding your scolding glower as he slips his tongue out to glide it along the sore bite mark that he left with his teeth. The wet warmth of his tongue laving over your skin, soothing the sting that he had made has your brain splitting between pain and pleasure, merging the two sensations into a muddled, delicious blur.

"Feyd." You meant for it to come out reprimanding and harsh, but instead it sounds thin and panting. You see the satisfaction spark in his eyes at the weakened tone of it, and seeking more out like a glutton, he reaches his hand forward to roll one of his knuckles over your clit. It's pure torture how he's keeping you hung along the edge of bliss. You're still sensitive from your ruined orgasm and the simple graze from the back of his hand has you doubling over like you've been struck in the gut. He tilts his head back to nuzzle his face against your own when you lean in close enough. An action that's deceptively sweet for someone so violent. It has something that feels a lot like affection bubbling up inside of your chest; dulcet and soft. You tear it away and burrow it deep before it can grow.

Guided by instinct, in a scramble to replace that unwelcome hint of tenderness, you tilt your head to join your lips to his. You can taste yourself on him, earthy and mildly sweet, and just the thought of you marking him with something so intimate - so filthy, makes you weak. He's quick to respond, meeting you eagerly with tongue and teeth. It's nearly bruising. Just as harsh and impassioned as the way that he fights, and it has you moaning into his mouth. But it isn't enough. Your hands turn greedy, sweeping over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, and in retaliation for teasing and his earlier bite, you sink your nails into the skin there, meanly dragging them until your reach his clavicle bone. But he doesn't hiss or wince in pain. The groan that spills against your lips is one of pleasure. The sound has your body thrumming and winding up tight, and paired with the steady circles he draws on your clit it has you dangerously close to tipping headfirst into the throes of melted bliss. But his touch is too light, the rhythm too slow to fully guide you into it. It leaves stuck on the edge of a torturous limbo, and you nearly whimper against his mouth.

You break the kiss in an effort to regain a sense of clarity, but he's quick to chase after you, nipping at your lips and alleviating the sting with the point of his tongue. "Feyd," you repeat, and this time it sounds horribly close to begging. You can feel your resolve cracking. Splintering down the center and melting with every glide of his finger against your clit.

"I already told you, Atreides," he murmurs it like a taunt and promise all at once. "All you need is ask."

He makes it sound so simple. So temptingly easy, but you try to cling onto your pride with a shaking grip. You know that he can see the conflict openly reflected in your eyes. The urge to fight. He moves his face from yours just enough to tilt his head as he evaluates you. It feels so condescending and the low, patronizing way that he tuts at you has a small whisper of determination peeking through the cloud of lust that fogs your mind. But he presses his knuckle against your clit in a mean drag, making your body clench and twitch like it had been stung with a live wire, and with it all cohesive thought blanks out.

"Why are you fighting?" He asks, leaning his head to run his teeth along your ear, and then the wet blaze of his tongue trails up your throat to lick the salt from your skin. "It could be like a dream."

It's such a simple sentence, but it reminds you have of how you've gotten here in the first place. The promise of pleasure, the feel of skin under your teeth, the rough grip of his hands on you. In truth, you aren't sure what you're resisting for. What game you're trying to play and win. You're just torturing yourself at this point. Holding yourself back from what you truly want needlessly. It's because of pride. The trait to endure, to remain resolute underneath the call of a challenge or opposition has been instilled in you. You've been taught to be unyielding, to hold yourself back from temptation. Especially when facing an adversary. You cannot show weakness lest you bring humiliation to your house. But you're quickly learning that you don't have much shame anymore. Being in Feyd's presence seems to drain every ounce of it from your body, shifting you into something debased and wanting. And you want him.

"Please, Feyd, I need you touch me," you beg, panting against his lips. "I need you to fuck me. I need - "

You aren't certain who moves first. If it's you who slips down from the edge of the bath or if he's the one that takes ahold of you by the hips and tugs you onto his lap. The murky water splashes and ripples from the disturbance, bathing over the lower half of your body in a warm rush as you meet in a desperate sweep of grabbing hands, and the passionate exchange of lips and the harsh graze of teeth. You follow after him as he shifts so he's leaning against the boarder of the bath, allowing you both to focus on the press of your bodies grinding against each other without the worry of falling into the water. His hips roll upward, tearing a surprised gasp from you when you feel the hard weight of his cock nudge between the apex of your thighs, brushing over your clit in a slow drag.

The feel of it is jarring almost. Dousing a small chill across your body with the reminder that you're beginning to reach the point of uncharted territory. You've never gotten this close with anyone else before. Had never entertained the idea or even desired it. Your explorations of the male body had never gone past you taking them into your mouth or vice versa. This is completely out of your depth and all of the efforts that you had taken in preparation had done little to soothe your nerves. You had spoken to your chambermaids and Lady Jessica alike about sex before, the art of love making and what you should brace for, and they had all warned you of pain. A deep tearing pain and the blood that comes with it. It had given you hardly any inclination to anticipate losing your virtue.

But even with worry tensing your gut the fervent, burning desire that's consumed you hasn't released you from its snare. Still, Feyd seems to have noticed the rigidity in your body, the way your muscles have coiled in your internal distress. He tips his head back to part his lips from yours so that your eyes can meet, and you can see amusement glittering in the darkness of them like your nervousness is humorous somehow.

"You have nothing to fear. I'll be gentle, just this once." The reassurance (or threat, you aren't quite sure) skirts over you, rough and enticing within the gravel of his voice. One of the hands that he has on your hips softly grips around your wrist, and you're left to watch curiously as he guides it down into the inky water. You gasp when he slips your palm around the weight of his cock. He's rigid and smooth in your hold, and when you inquisitively stroke your hand up the length of him, it's a little intimidating to discover the substantial girth of him. You swallow nervously around the saliva that pools in your throat. It's difficult to focus around. It's like your own body is confused, thrumming with an electrical sort of anticipation, and the clutch of anxiety that stubbornly burrows deep underneath the influence of your lust.

But there's something about the arrogant glint in Feyd's expression that makes you bristle. It gives you a touch of confidence; small, hardly there at all, but it's enough. You grip him before your determination can falter, holding him steady as you line him up to the soaked entrance of your cunt. It takes you a moment to notch him against you - a combination of your nerves and lack of practice. But when you finally do, you have to draw in a deep breath to center yourself. He's thick and warm against you and it's such a foreign sensation. A side of you still hasn't caught up with the fact that you're well and truly here, tangled up in such a scandalous position with the na-Baron - your enemy. Your rival. But it's even more shocking with how little the fact is beginning to bother you. It should frighten you. It should sicken and repulse you. But you find that it doesn't in the slightest. You only feel the damning lick of desire, the urge to chase after your pleasure and to feel the na-Baron come undone underneath you.

With a deep inhale you begin to sink yourself down on him before your nerves can get ahold of you. The stretch stings from the head of his cock working inside, the muscles between the junction of your hips straining from the effort. It's already intense, splitting you open with a fullness that you have yet to feel before even though he isn't even halfway in. Every shred of oxygen has been punched out from your lungs, and your mouth drops open in a silent gasp as you continue to slip yourself down onto him, forcing your body to accommodate to the width of his girth. Liquid, molten honey drips down the length of your spine, blurring with the raw sting rooted deep inside of you, nearly making you double over from the intensity of it.

"Easy," Feyd hums suddenly, reaching up to cup the side of your face. When he swipes his thumb underneath your eye, you just vaguely register the dampness there. Tears. You hadn't even realized that you had begun to cry from the overwhelming nature of it all, and even though it's expected, it's a little irritating to see how unbothered he appears to be while you feel as though you're coming undone at the seams. But the warmth of his hand against your cheek pulls you from the searing, electrical pressure of your muscles giving around his length, a beacon in a storm. It's another oddly, sweet gesture from the someone so brutal, and combined with the soothing weight of his hand on your waist, it has another bout of that horrendous affection rising up inside of you. Even when he lifts his tearstained thumb to his lips to lick the damp salt from his finger.

It's all too overwhelming. The sensation of his body on yours, his eyes on you, the push of his cock filling you up. It has more desire building up inside of you and it guides you to sink even more of yourself down on him, eager to take every inch. You feel it when the crown pushes past the tight ring of your cunt. The abrupt pop sends heavy tremors across your body, making your spine bow forward like a melted candlestick. It's like every bit of your energy has been sapped from you by a single motion and you have no choice but to let your head prop against his shoulder as you collect yourself with a trembling sigh. But you don't bother giving yourself any reprieve, discarding his earlier advice and bearing your hips down to force more of him deep inside, and your jaws drops open in a silent, punchout scream when your walls stretch to accommodate him.

Your mind has all but melted underneath the intensity of it, shifting to a blank with each inch that you take. By the time that the back of your thighs meets the support of his lap you feel like pure, useless mush. Reduced to pliant mess by the sudden fullness that's been stuffed into your cunt. You swear that you can feel him in your throat, shoving your lungs tight against the walls of your ribcage, keeping you breathless.

"I told you to go easy." The rumble of his voice breaks out, bleeding past the clouded over haze in your mind in a deep rasp. It's difficult to discern if he's mocking you or chiding you, but knowing what you've learned of him already, it's safe to assume that it's probably both.

You distantly feel you shake your head against his shoulder, more of that defiance rearing up. "I don't want to go easy," you counter. It takes you a moment to build up the strength and coherence to pull yourself back, tilting your chin up to assess him. His eyes are like burning pits, a yawning void that wants to eat you alive. But you don't have it in yourself to shy away from it. Instead you lean forward, slipping your hands around to grip the back of his neck, supporting yourself has you brush your nose along his. The press of his body underneath you is unflinching, his expression relaxed, but you are certain that you feel something in him waver. The hint of a vulnerability. A fleeting glimpse of it. But that's all you need. It's more than enough to tell you that if you want to, you can just as easily have him wrapped around your finger.

You angle your head closer, pressing soft kisses along the plush of his lips and the sharp cut of his jaw. "Please," you beg softly.

His mouth is on yours in an instant, hot and hungry, pulling you into another frenzied kiss, licking into your mouth to taste you. Just the glide of his lips against yours is enough to have that heated coil in your stomach already winding up tight. You feel like you're drowning. Caught up in a torrent of heat and bliss. It has your hips rising up mindlessly, instinctively working yourself on the length of his cock in a desperate need to chase after your pleasure. Stinging aftershocks trickle across your muscles with each short drag, but it only serves to make your nerves hum; aching so wonderfully deep that your eyes nearly roll back.

His lips leave yours to trail along to corners of your mouth, sweeping down your jaw to nip and bite along the delicate skin of your throat, intent to leave his mark on you. It distracts you. Pulling your focus onto the sharp cut of his teeth on your neck, that it completely catches you off guard when he secures an arm around your waist, pinning you close to his body before he thrusts his hips up into yours like he's determined to carve his place between your them. The pace that he sets is grueling. A merciless rhythm that strikes the air out of your lungs with each pronounced roll. He fills you in a way that hurts, stretching you open with every plunge of his cock. But it's an exquisite type of pain. It feels like it's tearing you apart just to piece you back together again.

You struggle to meet his pace. Your movements aren't as coordinated; choppy, and he doesn't wait for you to catch up and figure out the greedy movement and rhythm he's set. The sway of the water around your bodies seem to stifle and aid the motion of your hips simultaneously, dragging them down and lifting them all at once. You're practically useless above him, forced to sit and take it. But he doesn't seem annoyed or undeterred in the slightest with the way that he pounds himself into you. It has your brain going fuzzy, glazing over with the impression of his veins gliding along the walls of your cunt. His chest rubs against your breasts, shifting the smooth material of your dress over your nipples, and the added friction makes your back pull taut.

The heat of his mouth closes over the vulnerable stretch of your throat and you can feel the tip of his tongue glide over your pulse like he's tempted to sink his teeth in deep to drink the flow of your blood. Your cunt clenches down on his girth at the thought, and you're rewarded with a low, guttural groan that reverberates across his chest from the inside out. It makes you eager to hear more from him. To make him just as broken and debauched as you are.

You can hardly recognize yourself anymore. The way that he's practically turned you into an animal; wanton and gluttonous. You can hear the sound of your own voice, unrestrained and loud as it cries out in pleasured moans and whimpers. You don't think you've ever heard yourself this way. So uninhibited and sinful. None of your past lovers, as satisfactory as they had been, had ever been able to pull reactions like this from you. It nearly makes you feel like a stranger in your own body. Unfamiliar with your skin. But it's irresistibly good, unprincipled and shameless. But it feels like pure release, untethered by expectations or rules. And like a starved thing, you want more. You want more of him. To hear him, to feel more of him, to taste him on your tongue.

In a wild craving to hear the throaty sound of his pleasured breaths, you slip your throat away from his mouth, ignoring the disgruntled snarl that stretches across his lips to grip the nape of his neck. You lean forward before he can question you and press your teeth into the smooth flesh that stretches over the junction of his shoulder, careful not to break skin but enough to cause the sting of pain. It's like a prize when a deep groan rips out from his chest, but the sharp, bruising thrust that follows closely behind nearly dislodges your teeth from him. He must have noticed the grip of your jaw waver because he slips a hand up to cradle the back of your skull, securing you in place.

"More," he demands in a thick rasp.

The sound of the request has liquid fire dousing over you, and you don't have the strength or desire to resist. You sink your teeth down even more until it threatens to split skin underneath the weight of your bite, stopping short before you could do any actual damage. But the irritated, almost forlorn sigh that greets your ears catches your attention. His fingers flex around the back of your head like he wants to shove you closer. But surely he doesn't want that. Your teeth will tear right through him if you apply any more pressure.

"Harder." The insistent order comes out like pure gravel, and matched with another wild thrust, it has your teeth clamping down on his shoulder. The muscles in your jaw squeeze tight until flesh breaks and something iron and strangely bitter spills across your tongue and threatens to pour down your throat. The noise that leaves him is gutted and wanton. Your body clenches around him as soon as you hear the ragged panting that trickles from his lips, setting you alight with even more ardency, and the sting of your bite searing across his nerves somehow manages to fuel him with even more vigor. He rams his cock into you with heavy strokes that are debilitating. You nearly feel like a doll, nothing more than a being for his pleasure, if not for the reverent way that his hands begin to glide along your body. Clutching you to him like might slip away.

It pulls you close to him, and the position has his pelvis grinding against your clit with every roll of his hips. Unable to hold in the string of moans and whimpers that beg to slip from your chest, you have to slip your teeth from his skin to pant and cry against his shoulder. It's like the sun is eating at your body. Warmth, and heat, and rapture scorching you from the inside, threatening to burn and tear you apart. You can taste it, warm and sweet on the tip of your tongue, mixing with the dark tart of his blood into an intoxicating flavor. It makes you lose all sense of yourself with your mind slipping under a blank mist. Your body is so distant from you now and the only thing that keeps you connected to it is the pleasure and ecstasy soaking your limbs and filling your lungs; the thickness of him stretching you open and stuffing you full.

"Feyd," you gasp like a warning and a plea, blindly clawing at his arms and shoulders to keep you tethered down and present. But each relentless thrust just hurtles you closer to that yawning precipice. The head of his cock brushes against something deep and devastating inside of you and that's all it takes for you to split apart with a ragged scream. You hardly have time to brace for it when it finally reaches you. Bursts of white and piercing stars explode behind your eyes like a kaleidoscope; fire and electricity seize you tight, forcing every muscle in your body to wind up tight like you've been shocked. All of the air has been snatched from your lungs making your feel as though you've blacked out; lightheaded and sluggish.

You can hear Feyd grunting in your ear, but his pacing has turned messy, losing the pronounced, steady rhythm he once had in his desperation to reach his own end. Thrusting into you in a manner that's almost wild. Both of his hands find your waist and his fingertips dig in deep enough to tear a weak cry from you. With a long, guttural moan he reaches his climax, burying himself deep into your cunt as he fills you with a flood of pulsing warmth before sagging back against the boarder of the tub.

You aren't sure how long you stay like that for, suspended in a space tucked between your body and thrumming, pulsing heat. When your breath comes back to you, it's labored and deep, drawing in the scent of perfumed oils and the heady salt of sweat. You've gone limp, limbs lax and useless as your full weight drapes across the firm press of Feyd's body underneath you. It's soothing to have him close, even though it shouldn't be. There should be fear in your chest. Self-disgust and betrayal should hang over you like a cloud, but there's nothing except for satisfaction and peace. Maybe it will leave you once the influence of pheromones and the high of sex dissipate, and reality will come hurtling down on you with the conviction of a calamity. But as of now, you have no desire to entertain any of those anxieties. You nuzzle closer to Feyd, tucking your face into the crook of his neck with the ease of someone who's done it a thousand times, even while a faint part of you worries that he'll shove you away. That he might push you from him and rise from the bath to leave you abandoned in water turned tepid and soiled to remind you of your true place here. But he doesn't. He lets you settle over him, idly running his fingertips up the divot of your spine from over the cover of your soaked dress.

You feel the thrum voice of his vibrate across his chest before you hear it, and a part of you expects some sort of scathing remark.

"Did I still disappoint?"

Your eyebrows furrow at the question as your slow-moving brain struggles to follow the question, and the near flat quality of his voice doesn't assist you any. But when your finally grasp onto the realization, you can't fight off a light smile that perks at your lips from the notion that he might be teasing you. The affection is back with a vengeance. Blossoming in your chest, saccharine and warm. But now you don't have the strength to try and shove it away or to distract yourself.

"Hmmm," you hum lowly, feigning consideration as you draw in a deep sigh. "I suppose you've redeemed yourself."

The scent of something strongly metallic fills your nose, settling deep and pulling you from the gentle fuzz that's stuffed your skull. It draws you to pull yourself from the cradle of his chest to evaluate him. Your eyes are quick to scan his pallid skin and you immediately notice the rivulets of black that pour down his shoulder, streaming from the angry bitemark that has been cut into his flesh. Guilt spreads through you at the sight even though he had commanded - begged, really, for you to do it. You're sure that his blood is still smeared across your lips in a dark stain. More proof of the pain you had eagerly inflicted on him.

"I'm sorry," you apologize softly. You reach down to cup some of the murky water into the divot of your palm, it has healing properties you remember reading, and lift it up to gently pour it over the wound. Even though it must sting, he doesn't so much as flinch underneath the feel of the medicinal liquid flowing over the gash.

"Don't be," he assures. He glides the pad of one of his thumbs across your bottom lip, and you distantly gather that he's collecting the glaze of his blood there. His eyes follow the motion like he's entranced, and the intensity behind it could have sparked another bout of lust in you if you weren't already so spent. He lifts his black-stained fingers between you both, rubbing his fingertips together as he watches the smear of blood glitter underneath the cast of the pale lighting. "I'll wear it with pride."

There it is again. More of that odd, unwavering devotion. Perhaps you should be suspicious of it. It could be some sort of ploy to lull you into a false sense of security, but instinct tells you that he's being purely honest. And that might be even more frightening. If he's already so committed and consumed by lust and entitlement now, then there's truly no idea what could happen if his admiration were to evolve into something deeper. Darker. Less restrained. Horrendously, the prospect of it intrigues you. You can't help but wonder what it would be like to bask under the attention of Feyd-Rautha's obsession. An even sicker side of you might hope for it too.

You snap that thought shut and bury it deep before it can flourish. You concentrate your mind on your surroundings instead, like the dark water lapping along the edge of the bath, soaking the expensive fabrics of your dress, now damaged and defiled, and the musk of sex and fragrant oils hanging heavy in the air; the press of his flaccid cock still stuffed inside of you. But the weight of Feyd's stare cuts through all of it, gravitating your own to raise to him in turn. You can see the pale hint of blue reflecting in them, just as gorgeous as the expanse of a wild ocean. It draws you closer to him and he angles his head to join his lips to yours. For the first time this night this kiss is something soft and gentle. It feels like reverence when the plush of his mouth parts against yours. Drawing in the taste of you on the tip of his tongue, exchanging a mix or your arousal and his blood with the glide of your lips. It's a kiss that pulls you down into his orbit. It makes everything fade it an unclear background until the only thing that matters is the warmth of him underneath your hands; the pulse of his heartbeat thrumming steadily within his chest. With another delicate nip of his teeth and the sweep of his hands around you, temptation rings throughout your bones and begs you to fall into him.

And without any resistance, you do.

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #feyd oneshot #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune part 2 #dune imagine #dune oneshot #dune 2024 #dune x reader

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ham-st4r · 1 year ago

Text

WRONG DOINGS L. HS

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: heeseung + fem reader!

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

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: stepcest, taboo relationship, slow burn.

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

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟖,𝟐𝟓𝟒𝐤

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung just sighed and kept his mouth shut after that.

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

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

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

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

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

"Out," she answered without looking at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay," you nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He thought it was ridiculous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Night," she murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"N-no thanks," you declined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good," you said simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he texted her instead.

Heeseung: Morning, baby! I miss you :(

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

He chuckled and sent it to his wife.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung: My wife looks so sexy😍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nothing to concern yourself wi-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay," she whispers softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop,” you giggled and pushed his shoulder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that wasn’t enough to make you stop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It didn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s what did it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He felt nothing but undeniable guilt.

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

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

“Hmm?” His wife looked up at him.

“Oh, nothing,” he fake laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, y/n, don’t do this, you know what I mean” he maintains eye contact with you.

“I’ve just been busy, that’s all.” You lie again because there was no point in telling him that you actually liked him. It’d never work, cause he didn’t feel the same for you.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but even I get busy sometimes, and that’s never made me act like you or your mom don’t exist. Whenever I even try to talk to you, you just shut me out, and it’s really annoying.” heeseung was desperate for your attention at this point. He missed you, your body, the passionate moments you shared, the one-on-one conversations, and the bond he had formed with you over the small time span of a week is what he’s been searching for. He thought he had found that with his wife, and in the beginning, it was damn near close, but after spending just a little bit of time with you, he knew that’s what he’s been longing for, the way you begged for him in bed made him feel wanted whenever you asked him for help made him feel needed and at night when you’d sleep in his arms he finally found that peace that was able to take away any stress from his long day.

It was selfish trying to string you along while trying to make things work in his marriage, but right now, and maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly, but he wanted you. He could see a future in your eyes, one he didn’t see with his wife ever.

The only thing stopping him from going through with the divorce was that he’d lose you too, and he wasn’t ready for that at all, at least not yet.

You laugh dryly. “Not everyone is like you.” An accusatory tone can clearly be detected in your voice, and when he hears you say that, he’s not sure if he can continue having this conversation with you because he wasn’t ready for you to tell him about all his flaws. Cause it’d hurt way too bad. Especially hearing it from you.

“You’re right.” The weight on your bed lessens as he stands up and opens your door. “If I can ever help you with anything, just let me know. Hopefully, you won’t be busy too much longer, y/n.” A half smile is the last thing you see before he quietly shuts the door behind him, and you finally allow the tears to gather in your eyes as you lay back down.

Heeseung knew you were lying when you said you were busy. He knew you were ignoring him, or maybe now that you had sex with him, you didn’t care about him at all. He doesn’t really know, and those are a lot of options to choose from, but at the back of his mind, one made more sense than all the others, and that was the fact that you probably just didn’t care about him for real in the first place.

Either way, he was going to find out, he had to because he needed to move on from whatever the hell this was that you and him had going on.

He was having dreams about you, imagining you in his bed. Instead, he even had a dream of marrying you, but he blames that on the fact that divorce has been on his mind lately.

The fact that you and his wife seemed to care nothing about him made him feel worthless as a husband, as a man, and as a stepfather, for what that’s worth.

But he still tried.

He was currently parked outside your school, patiently waiting for you to get out, which would be any minute now. He wanted to take you on a little drive and just talk about everything that’s transpired in the last couple of months.

After he checked the time on his watch, he looked up and saw you walking out of the building. His smile quickly fell when he saw a guy next to you with his arm draped on your shoulder, and man, did that make his blood fucking boil. “Y/n!” He rolls down the window and shouts for you to get into the car.

Unfortunately, your classmate and bully just so happened to follow you out of class today, hugging his arm around you each time you pushed him away. He just kept pestering you, and you weakly gave in like you always did. “Come back to my place, hmm? You look sad, baby. Let me take it away,” he whispered in your ear, making you shudder uncomfortably, which only makes him laugh in your face. “Come on, I know you want it. Wanna feel my big coc.” a loud horn distracted your classmate, and you looked in the direction of it, immediately relieved to see heeseung waiting at the curb for you, yelling for you to get into his car.

You were thankful that he showed up and saved you from your bully, but you were upset because here he was once again, making you care about him even more when you were trying to ignore all those feelings that you gained for him in only a week's time. “I have to go,” you mutter to your classmate and run to heeseung’s car, quickly getting in and shaking off the yucky feeling from your classmate.

“Who was that?” Heeseung asks, trying to keep his composure.

When you don’t answer and choose to look out the window instead of him, his composure had quickly depleted. “I said, who was that?” You still don’t answer, and he grips your chin softly despite how angry he is. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” he restrains himself from yelling, but he doesn’t know for how much longer that will be.

“Why do you care?” You snap and push his hand away from you.

He clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Just cause you won’t tell me doesn’t mean I don’t already know. It’s obvious that he’s your boyfriend.”

Your brows furrow, and he continues. “So you’re just opening your legs for any guy now, huh?” He chuckles sarcastically, and you want to slap him in the face for saying something so stupid. “Should have known, you couldn’t go a day without my cock in you, so now you have to get it somewhere else.”

You part your mouth to say something, but instead, you close it, opting to just say nothing. If he wanted to be that dumb, then you’d let him.

“Does he fuck you better than me?” Heeseung let his jealousy take over his whole body, and he just kept saying stupid shit, but he was too deep in to stop now.

It didn’t make sense to you at first why he seemed angry, but you soon pieced two and two together, remembering how possessive he always was when he was with you. You remembered all the times he’d call you his while cumming in you. “So much better” You roll your eyes, you know you’re being petty, but it’s only fair to push his buttons a little if he wanted to say ridiculous stuff about you.

Heeseung’s face drops along with his heart, knowing his suspicions about you having a boyfriend were true. He knew you just used him for sex, and nothing you said to him in between the sheets was real, and he couldn’t take knowing that he never meant anything to you in the first place. “I’m sure it’s easy to please a whore like you,” he retaliates.

“Oh, I’m the whore? Says the guy who fucks his stepdaughter and cheats on his wife” You scoff, and to think you weren’t even having sex with your disgusting classmate made this all the more amusing to you.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that. I liked you better when all you did was take my dick and keep your pretty little mouth shut” Your breath hitched when he said that, and you could feel yourself getting turned on by his words and his dominant aura. It took you back to that unforgettable week when you had him all to yourself. “Didn’t you?” His eyes fall on your little skirt, and he can’t help but grip your thigh and trail his hand up your dress, cupping your mound.

“Daddy,” you hold his wrist, keeping his hand in place over your pulsing cunt.

That’s all it takes for him to start his car and pull around the school building, parking in the closest thing to a blind spot. “Back seat now,” he rushes out, turning off the car and yanking his belt off.

You scampered to the back seat, automatically laying on your back. He climbs in after you, smirking when he sees you’re already in position for him. “That’s a good girl.” You melt hearing him call you that after so long and it makes a gush of wetness leak from your hole. “But,” he says, pausing to take off his belt and unfasten his jeans. “You still have to be punished for giving Daddy’s pussy away.”

You were going to tell him you didn’t, but you’re not sure if, in the heat of the moment, he’d believe you, plus you'd rather be punished by him anyway cause it’s what you were used to. “Gonna take daddy’s lesson like a good girl?

“Yes, Daddy,” he smiles, that weird feeling in his chest returning. He loved you so damn much, always just so good to him.

He rolled your dress up your waist, not bothering to fully undress you. This had to be a quickie cause if your mom came home, he didn’t have a valid excuse as to why you two were out for so long.

He swallows the drool that gathers in his mouth when he sees your cute little baby pink panties, the ones he always loved so much cause they always revealed just how wet you were. “Princess,” his eyebrows draw together, and he basically moans at the sight of your pussy. He’s missed it so much that he feels himself losing all type of strength in his body, and it was dangerous because any time you wanted, you could have him however you liked.

The time it takes for him to drop his pants is nonexistent. He reveals his hard veiny cock for your eyes to feast on.

You rubbed your legs together, clenching around nothing at the sight. You miss him inside you so much, and you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again after so long.

He throws his suit tie over his shoulder and hovers over you laying his heavy cock on your core teasingly. “What to do with you?” He hums. “Such a naughty slut giving away what’s not yours” he kissed your cheek, brushing the tip of his nose along your jawline, feeling you up while he thought about how to punish you. “You don’t even deserve my cock” he whispered and licked the shell of your ear.

“Daddy, please,” you whine, already on the verge of tears because you need to feel him so bad your body has been craving him ever since that week you spent with him.

“No, don’t say please now. You should have thought about that when you let another man inside you,” he grunted and pressed his hips into you roughly. “As a matter of fact,” he leans back and sits on the seat in the back, legs spread open, giving you a clear view of his hard leaking cock. He wants nothing more than to feel you wrapped around him, but now both of you have to suffer because you decided to be naughty. “Yes,” he hisses, throwing his head back into the seat while slowly tugging his cock as you sit there and helplessly watch. “Since you wanted to be bad, here’s your punishment,” he spits on his shaft, using it as a lubricant to work his length up and down nice and slow, quickly checking his surroundings before focusing back on you. “You can look, but don’t touch,” he smirks at you while touching himself, and it’s not even a fraction of when you do it, but it’ll have to suffice for now.

“No, Daddy, I swear I didn’t do anything with him.” you instantly tell the truth. At first, the idea of being punished sounded fun, but you didn’t know it’d be like this.

“Now, princess, if you keep lying to me, I won’t even let you watch,” he threatens.

“Please believe me.” You inch closer to him, your round, innocent eyes making him feel weak, but he keeps his ground.

“Another word out of you, and we’re going home,” he warns you, and you sit there helplessly leaking arousal and watching him touch himself.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from saying something, and you eye his tip wishing you could lick it clean for him, suck him off, and make him feel real good.

“Like what you see? This is what did it for you in the first place, yeah? Walking in on your stepdad getting off, you liked that right? fucking nasty little thing” he pumps his cock faster, spitting again to wet it up. You moaned quietly when little wet sounds entered the small space of the back seat as his fist met his full balls.

Just touching himself alone wasn’t going to get him there, but usually, a little added dirty talk always did the trick, but not even today was that working. He was getting so close, but it wasn’t quite working because he needed you. He couldn’t get off anymore if it wasn’t you. “Lift up your skirt, show Daddy that wet pussy, baby,” he commanded, his fist working on his stiff cock desperately.

You immediately spread your legs and pull up your skirt, slipping your panties to the side so he can see how wet you are for him. “Fuck” He wishes he could just bend you over and fuck into you rough and hard, but you needed to learn your fucking lesson.

You swiped a finger through your slit, gathering your slick on your fingers, giving him a show. “Daddy’s gonna fucking cum” he looks at you, noticing the tears in your eyes, and he immediately stops knowing he might have taken things a bit too far. He wasn’t trying to make you sad or upset. He just wanted you to learn not to give away what was his. “Princess, what’s wrong?” He asks with worry, doing a complete 180 in mere seconds.

“Don’t want daddy to cum alone, wanna make you feel good” he nearly cums from your words alone, and he swears he’d never get used to you being so eager just to please him.

“I know, princess, but you gotta learn.” he cups your face, swiping away your tears.

“Daddy, I promise I wouldn’t do anything with anyone else but you. I only said it to make you jealous.” You sniffle and hug your arms around his waist.

He stiffened in your hold, freezing up at your confession. He said all those things to you, and it wasn’t even true. To say he felt stupid would be an understatement. “So you didn’t have sex with anyone else but me?” He says, almost afraid to even ask cause the thought of you with someone else other than him made his stomach turn.

“Nope,” you reply, rejoicing that his tone was less harsh than before.

“And you did it just to make me jealous?” He asks again just to confirm.

“Yeah, just wanted your attention, Daddy. Did it work?” You say playfully.

“Yeah, it worked,” you giggle softly, tears drying now that he wasn’t upset with you anymore. “You really are a bad girl,” he grins completely relieved, and he doesn’t care how naughty you are. As long as you didn’t let anyone touch you, you could be as bad as you wanted. “Bend over, you little trouble maker” he released you from his grip, and you bent over immediately, pulling your underwear down for him to have access to your dripping cunt. “Now that’s a good girl,” he spanks your ass, earning a whimper from you. “Stick that ass in the air for me” You shift a bit more, arching your back and sticking your ass up just the way he liked it. “There you go” he spanked you again and smoothed over your plump cheeks with his palms slotting his hard cock between your ass. “Tell Daddy how bad you want it, how bad you miss it,” he says in a daze-like state already, softly rutting himself against your supple flesh.

“So bad, miss you inside me wanna feel you fucking me deep and stuffing me with your cum daddy please” You don’t care how desperate you sound because it’s true you just need him to fill you up whenever he was inside you you felt complete.

“Aww, my princess, daddy’s got you.” You felt relieved from his words, your eyes falling shut as you rested your cheek in the backseat, just waiting to feel him deep inside you.

He doesn’t want to make you wait any longer than he already has, so without preparation, he slowly starts easing his way in. It feels tight, almost too tight to fit, but when he checked on you, you told him to keep going, and he wasn’t about to protest. “Always so wet,” he murmured behind you, lifting up his shirt and tucking it beneath his chin to watch his dick getting lost inside your tight cunt.

“Yes,” you sigh in pleasure. The stretch is a little painful, but you can take it cause it still feels really good.

He lazily rocks his hips, burying himself deeper inside you inch by inch. He loves hearing you whine every time he feeds more dick into you. He always thought you sounded so cute when you took him nice and deep.

He groaned and bit his lip, dick twitching as he feels you clenching down on his cock hard. “Feel good, princess?” his voice sounds far too sweet for what he’s doing to you, but the naughty-to-nice contrast just makes it feel even better.

You moan in response, but that’s good enough for him. He bends down, placing a single kiss on the back of your neck. “You’re so tight,” he whispers and bottoms out. “I missed this so much,” he admits. “You don’t understand.” he massaged your hips with his large hands, letting his thoughts run wild. “Been dreaming about you,” and he may have a habit of saying too much sometimes, but does he care? fuck no, he feels safe with you, safe enough to let his genuine thoughts out for the first time in a long time. “Haven’t even touched my wife since I had you.”

“Daddy,” you whine from his confession. You’ve felt the same ever since your first time with him. You dreamt of you and him together every night. “Missed you too.”

Something about that name wasn’t sounding quite right to him at this moment. This was far more than just some quick fuck to him. “Call me by my name, angel.” he tilts his head to the side, maintaining that perfect pace, the one he figured out you liked the most, which just so happened to be his favorite too, or maybe it became his favorite because of you who really knows.

You whimper weakly and slowly push yourself against him, matching his sensual thrusts, and somehow, this feels so much more intimate than anything you’ve ever done with him before. Despite the lack of space, the location, and the position, this felt raw and real. “Heeseung, it feels so good,” you pant out.

“Yeah?” his response comes out in one long breath as he watches you rocking back and forth on his girth. “So good. Wanna see your pretty face, my Angel girl” he withdraws from your hole, leaving you clenching and empty, but not for long as he turns you over and slides right back in, both of you, letting out loud breathy noises as he does so. “Beautiful,” he pecked your lips. “So beautiful.” he guided your legs around his waist, taking his spot between them slowly stroking your silky walls. “Give me your hands,” he says softly. You catch a glimpse of the look in his eyes, and it’s so sweet and tender it makes your chest swell. “I love you.” he clasps his hands with yours. “I swear I do.” he touched his forehead with yours, taking a leap of faith with his confession. Even if you didn’t like him that way, he just needed you to know that’s how he felt about you.

Nothing but warmth flooded your body at his confession. “I love you too, heeseung,” he swears he hears wrong until you say it again. “I love you so much.”

He wasn’t the type to cry often, but after hearing that, it was impossible for him to hold it in and seeing him cry made you tear up as well. “Yeah?” He laughs slightly, making your heart melt as a tear runs down his cheek.

“Yes, heeseung.” he rolls his hips, unable to keep himself still after your confession. He needs all of you. He wants to feel and hear every last precious sound you make for him.

“You’re perfect for me, so perfect.” he buried himself to the hilt inside you, stroking you deeply, every last inch of him imprinting your walls, marking you as his, as his tip stretched you wide opening you up to take his full length. “Fuck angel,” he whimpers, and he felt so helpless as you gripped his cock so snugly.

“Mmh hee,” you breathe into his mouth, back arching so far it almost hurt, but it was no concern when you felt his tip softly bumping your cervix. “You’re so big, can feel you so deep,” you cry out as you place your hands on his pecs, unintentionally stimulating his erect nipples. “Love the way you feel,” you whisper and close the gap between you both. His lips automatically work against yours, and nothing else fills his mind but the need to please you to the fullest.

He moaned into the kiss, sweat building on his forehead as that pleasuring tingling sensation crept up on him. He felt so good, so warm, so safe and secure in your presence. “Y/n, I’m- oh, I’m cumming” he breaks away from you, strained groans falling from his lips as you feel him twitching inside you, the mix of him stuffing you full of cum and the way his abdomen grinds against your clit sends you to your end, little pleas and whimpers coming from your shaking figure as you feel full of nothing but love. “That’s it, baby, let go,” he says while rotating his skilled hips.

“Hee.” You moan, running your hands through his damp silky hair, and then place your palm on his cheek. He immediately nuzzles his face into your touch as his eyes flutter close momentarily when they open again. They are full of nothing but adoration. There’s no denying it. “I love you.”

He smiled shyly. “Love you too,” he mutters, and you both laugh in happiness together in the back seat of his car behind your school. Not where you thought you’d be today, but neither of you were complaining.

“Home?” He asks you after you both calm down a bit.

“Yeah,” you swipe your thumb over his bottom lip affectionately. “Home”

He grins excitedly, kissing all over your face. He’s probably a little too excited, but he can’t help it cause the weight he’s been carrying finally feels nonexistent, and you’re finally in his arms again, and that’s all that ever mattered.

When you both arrived home, it was no surprise that your mom wasn’t. Once heeseung saw the coast was clear, he back-hugged you at the door. “Just you and me, angel,” he whispers in your ear. “Shower with me.” he kissed your neck, rubbing his palm over your stomach, making you feel butterflies all over. “Please.” he tightened his grip on you, making it even harder for you to say no.

“What if-“

“Shh, don’t worry about that, just come with me,” he says in your ear, and you caved in immediately.

“Okay,” you say as he steps to your side, ducking down to hook his arm around the back of your leg. You instinctively put your arm around his neck as he lifted you up bridal style and walked you upstairs.

“Hee,” you giggle and push your face into his neck, tickling him.

The shower was filled with nothing but loving touches and soft, breathless laughter as you both took turns washing each other's bodies.

Once you finished, you helped each other get dressed, and you went downstairs hand in hand. He ordered food, and you both waited on the couch for it to arrive.

After eating, you both cuddled up to each other on the couch and watched TV, sharing kisses here and there, but you couldn’t fully relax knowing that your mom could be home any minute. “Hee, I know you said not to worry, but wha-“

“Mmm, don’t worry, angel. I checked her location. She’s still forty minutes out.” he kissed your temple softly and laced his hand with yours.

“Okay,” you murmur softly and hold onto him, seeking his warmth as you lay your head on his chest.

This.

This feeling is all heeseung’s ever wanted.

“What have you been doing while I was away?” Your mother is currently standing in front of you, interrogating you about why heeseung has been treating her so differently lately. “What have you told him?” She raises her voice, not bothering how loud she gets cause heeseung was at work, and there was no one to hear your cries or protect you.

“Mom, I haven’t told him anything. I swear he doesn’t know,” you reply, tears gathering in your eyes as you tuck your knees to your chest.

“Then why won’t he touch me? Why is he not talking to me?” she steps closer, gripping you by your hair tightly, making you whimper in pain.

“No, Mom, please,” you beg, on the verge of crying when she smacks you across the face.

“Quit lying!” She screams and yanks you off your mattress, when your knees hit the carpet on the floor you wince in pain. “Whatever you did, fix it. If he finds out, I’ll lose everything, so you better keep your mouth shut, you hear me? DO YOU HEAR ME??!” you nod your head weakly, but just for good measure, she goes to your window, grabbing the wand, and detaching it from your blinds.

“Mom!” You cry out as she whips your bare skin, avoiding your arms and legs on purpose so no one would notice. “Please,” you beg past your tears, pleading with her to stop, but she doesn’t. She never does. “I won’t say anything,” you choke out, tears running out as she ignores you and keeps hitting you ruthlessly. Your body shook on the ground, and you couldn’t do anything but sit there and let it happen. She’d probably kill you if you ever tried to fight back.

“Remember what I told you,” she huffs out a breath, tossing the rod on your body, making you flinch before she walks to your door, leaving you a hyperventilating mess on the floor. “I’m going out. Don’t you dare say a word to him when he gets back, or else next time will be so much worse.”

Heeseung came home in good spirits after work. His wife was gone, and he knew you’d be home at this time.

It’s funny, less than a month ago, he’d be sad that his wife wasn’t home, but now he didn’t much care as bad as it sounds, he just didn’t feel anything towards her anymore, not like he used to.

He walked upstairs, taking a peek inside your room. Pouting when he saw that your back was turned and you were sleeping, but it was okay you probably needed to rest. He knew you had a habit of working your little brain over time.

He cleaned up a bit and went to his bed, killing some time with a little bit of light reading before bed.

You shifted uncomfortably in your sleep, and you woke up from the slight ache in your body. The pain definitely wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it wasn’t the best feeling in the world.

Your eyes landed on the clock. They lit up once you realized it was half past ten, and heeseung had gotten home a little while ago. You sprung out of bed, running to the bathroom to bandage your wounds and wash up.

When you were finished, you immediately went to his room, opening the door right away, not even concerned if he was still awake or not cause you were just too excited to see him. “Hey!” He smiles as soon as you enter and playfully jump on his bed.

“Hi,” you smile and rest your face in your palms, happily kicking your feet.

“Come here.” he sets his book on the nightstand and takes his glasses off as you climb up on his chest, burying your face in his pecs, making him chuckle from your cuteness.

“Miss you,” you say, muffled into his bare chest, listening to the soft bass in his voice when he laughs.

“I was just about to say that.” he placed his large hand over the small of your back, stroking it lightly as you trailed his chest muscles between the opening of his unbuttoned shirt.

You scooted back on the bed, leveling your face with his crotch area as he cocked his brow, watching you settle yourself between his legs as you rested your cheek on his thigh, eyeing the soft bulge in his pants.

You rubbed his thighs up and down teasingly, nudging your cheek on his clothed cock. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You giggle and pop open the button on his black suit pants and pull down the zipper.

His expression turns dark instantly as he watches you. “Y/n,” he groans as you grip his semi-hard cock.

He lifts his hips up ever so slightly to bring his pants further down for you.

You peel back the fabric covering the tiny hole in the front, drool pooling in your mouth instantly at the sight of his thick veiny girth. Pursing your lips, you pull his cock out, kissing it immediately, and he moans quietly from the feeling of your soft warm lips running along his hard leaking cock.

You licked the tip clean as you pumped the lower part and playfully tapped his thick head on your lips, a thin string of precum sticking to your pretty plump lips. You quit with the teasing and open your mouth wide, taking him balls deep right away.

His legs tremble when he feels your warm, wet mouth taking him deep. “Angel, your mouth feels like heaven,” he breathed out, listening to the sounds of your mouth slurping and sucking on his hard dick.

“Yeah?” You say when you pull off him with a pop to take a small breather.

“Yes,” you could feel yourself throbbing when you hear his high-pitched, whiny voice, you loved hearing him get like that for you.

You twist your wrist, fisting his cock as you trail your free hand to the hem of his shirt, pushing the material out of the way. You lean down, sucking a nipple into your mouth, earning a loud groan from him. “What the-fuck!” he moans, unable to comprehend the pleasure he’s feeling. His wife has never ever done anything like what you are doing to him right now. He’s never felt so much pleasure at once. The way you paid close attention to every little detail about him made him love you oh so much more.

You hum against his chest, flicking each of his nipples with the tip of your tongue, making him squeeze your waist as you pump his dick faster.

You replace your mouth with your hand, still stimulating his nipples while you wrap your mouth around his cock once more. “Oh fuck” his whimpers fill your ears, and you’re more than pleased that he’s so vocal it just lets you know that you’re the one making him feel so good that he just can’t keep quiet.

“Y/n, can you?” he immediately shuts his mouth, feeling way too embarrassed to admit what he really wants. He always wanted to experience the feeling, but he never dared ask his wife in case she thought it was weird, and even though he trusted you with his life, he still didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“Hmm?” You hum around his dick, swirling your tongue on the tip.

“It’s nothing,” he lies.

“Hee, come on, you can tell me,” you say softly after pulling off him momentarily.

When you ask so prettily, he can’t resist telling you, even if that meant you’d stop what you were doing to him. “My…” his face gets hot, and he’s actually not sure if he can go through with this. “Suck..” he muttered, guiding your hand to cup his balls, moaning loud at the small contact.

You grin lustfully and lightly squeeze on his full sack, earning a whimper from him. “Want me to suck your balls?” He nods shyly. “Yeah?”

“Yes, please,” he loses his voice the instant you suck one into your mouth. “Uhh, that’s it,” he moans, eyelids drooping even more from the pleasure. “Keep sucking on my balls, angel” he peeled his shirt to the side, fondling his nipples while you jerked him off and inhaled his balls, sucking on them lightly, and you’re doing such a good job he feels like he’s in heaven. “Gonna cum soon,” he losses himself, mouth hung wide open and whimpering loudly while watching each of his balls disappear into your petty little mouth.

You quickly put your lips back on his tip, awaiting his cum on your tongue while fondling his heavy balls. “Take all my cum, angel” he pinched his nipples hard and shot his thick milky load in your throat, his hips involuntarily bucking up to gently fuck your mouth as he filled you up, moaning your name over and over again, it felt so good that his toes curled down into the mattress, muscles twitching and body jerking with each spill of seed as his balls continued to throb on your bottom lip while you hungrily swallowed all of his hot cum.

Sucking him through his high, you release his soft cock from your mouth and lick the corners of your lips, collecting all his cum before kissing his tip one last time. “Good?” You smile mischievously, already knowing his answer.

“So good,” he huffs, eyes lidded and filled with love.

You began tucking his cock back inside his boxers. “No.” he reached for the waistband of his underwear, getting ready to take them off cause it was your turn now. “I’m gonna make you feel good too.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, remembering the wounds on your skin. There’s no way you could let him find out what was happening behind his back. Your mother would never forgive you.

He looked at you, a hint of disappointment in his eyes from your lack of enthusiasm for him. “Do you just not want to…?” he lifts his slacks back around his waist.

“No, it’s not that I just wanted to do something nice for you, nothing in return.” you hope he believes what you’re saying. Of course, you want him, but even your horrible mother had to get in the way of your relationship with heeseung.

“What? That’s nonsense. I want to give you something in return,” he says and reaches for your shirt, but you flee from his touch.

“Heeseung, it’s really okay,” you lie.

“So…. you just don’t want me?” He says, clearly confused.

“No!” You’re quick to clarify. “Of course I do!”

“Then get back over here,” he giggles, relieved that you weren’t telling him off.

You try to scoot off the bed, but he quickly catches you. “Got you!” he smiles while hovering over you.

“Let me go!” You giggle and squirm, but it’s no use. He’s far too strong for you.

“You’re all mine now,” he giggles, and as soon as his hand makes contact to tickle you, you wince in pain.

Shit.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He pouted and leaned back, making sure he wasn’t crushing you.

“No, I’m fine.” you gripped the hem of your shirt, making sure he couldn’t lift it up.

“Y/n, what’s going on?” He says sternly there’s definitely something more going on. You saying you didn’t want anything in return the strange behavior, and now you’re covering up.

“I’m just tired, that’s all.” you come up with every lie on the spot. The only problem was that not a single one was believable.

“Then let me do all the work.” he gets back on top of you, and even though you try to hold your shirt down, he immediately lifts it up, breath hitching when he sees the wounds on your skin. His eyes flash to every one, and his brows crease together. “Angel,” he whispers in shock, eyes going wide as the room falls silent while he runs his thumb over the bruise softly.

You lean back immediately, covering yourself and hugging your knees to your chest with tears gathering in your eyes.

It was silent for a half minute before he cradled you in his arms. He didn’t say anything and waited before he jumped to any conclusions about what exactly happened. “Please don’t cry,” he says softly and strokes your hair, but it was too late. Tears were already running down your face from fear, anger, and embarrassment. “Tell me what happened when you’re ready, okay?” He smoothed over your thigh and patted your back, kissing your head gently.

After a few minutes, you calmed down a bit. He leaned back, analyzing your broken expression before kissing the tears away from your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you sob quietly. Thoughts begin stirring in his head about what you could possibly be sorry for, and no matter how anxious he was, he simply waits for an answer cause he doesn’t want to pressure you into speaking if you don’t want to.

Your cries were literally breaking his heart. He just wanted to know what was wrong so he could try to fix it. “Shh, just breathe, okay? I’m here, y/n, I’m here.” he kissed your forehead, reassuring you over and over that he was there for you.

“Promise you won’t tell my mom, and you won’t be mad?” You hug him closer, thinking that he might run away after you told him the truth.

That was a big promise for him to keep, but he’d keep it for you. “I promise.”

“Mom,” that’s all you said, and you felt him tense up, which made you clutch onto him tighter.

“Angel, what are you saying?” If you were implying what he thought you were, then he’s not sure if he could keep the promise that he just made.

You wordlessly revealed the bruises on your midsection, and he clenched his jaw.

“You’re saying that my wife y-your mom did this to you?” His voice was laced with pure disgust as he examined your poor state. “N-no,” he shook his head back and forth in denial, not because he didn’t believe you but because you were going through this, and he had no idea you were suffering all alone. “Angel, no,” his eyes shook, tears welling in them as they turned bloodshot, but his sadness quickly turned into pure anger at the thought of your mother hurting you like this. “You can’t really expect me not to do anything about this!”

“Heeseung, don’t please,” you cried.

“No! You can’t keep going through this,” he yelled, and you flinched. “Fuck” he mutters softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, Angel. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Don’t, I’ll be fine. It’s nothing new anyway.” you zipped your mouth after that, trying not to reveal anything more, but it was too late.

“How long?” He asked, running his fingers through his hair.

“Since before I met you,” your lips wobbled, your body shaking with fear and anxiety.

Now everything made sense. No wonder your mom treated you like that. No wonder every time he stuck up for you, she got upset. “Hey, look at me,” he cupped your cheeks, smiling slightly because at least now your suffering would all be over. He was going to make sure you never got harmed by anyone ever again. “I’ll protect you.” You’re not sure how he’d go about doing that since every time he left for work, she’d hit you, but you trusted him. The look in his eyes made you believe that his words are true and that he’d protect you. “Okay?” He cupped your cheek, leaning in to press a kiss on your lips.

“Okay,” you whisper against his mouth and go in for another kiss.

He hums, letting you take the lead. He wasn’t going to make any moves that might kill the moment or make you uncomfortable.

You deepen the kiss, leaning into him more and placing your hand on his thigh. He matched your movements easily, keeping up with the slow pace of things.

You whine, and he grabs your thigh, pulling you onto his lap. Immediately you roll your hips, humping the bulge in his slacks. “Are you sure you want this right now?” He asked while rubbing your hips.

“Yes, want you to take the pain away,” you whispered and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Need you, Seung,” you moan, feeling his cock brushing against your clit through your clothing.

“I will, angel, I promise,” he whispers, entranced by you, and he needs you just as much as you needed him, if not more.

“I love you so much,” heeseung confesses. Your clothes long gone, his wedding ring far away from his finger as well as his picture frame from the wedding facing the wall, and he looks into your eyes so lovingly while stroking your cheek with his thumb and rolling his hips, reaching the deepest parts of you.

“I love you too, Seung,” you say breathlessly, your high feeling closer than ever as he runs his thumb over your clit.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again,” he promises and ducks his head down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, sealing all his love for you in that moment.

“Hee,” you whimper his words, taking you right to the edge as you spasm around him.

“Close, angel?” He moans, using every muscle in his body to make you feel good. He made out with your pretty wet folds earlier, stretched your beautiful hole open just right so he could make you feel full to the brim, and he kissed every single bruise on your precious, delicate skin, taking the pain away and replacing it with his love for you everything about this night was beyond perfect and not a second went by where you didn’t feel loved by the man above you he was so perfect and you made sure he knew it.

You nod confirming his words. Just seconds later, you release on his length, making you both gasp out and cry in pleasure as he messily locks lips with you again and again.

“Love you, seung, love you so much.” you breathe into his mouth, teeth clashing together, but neither of you can care, too caught up in this moment of complete bliss and euphoria.

“Love you too, my precious y/n,” strangled moans leave his lips, the first rope of cum spurting inside you, covering your insides white. The second one follows, and you feel that warmth that you loved so much, that feeling that only he could give to you.

When you see the tears in his eyes, you cry with himea, and he smiles at you.

He wraps you up in his arms, sharing his warmth as your highs take over your body. He’s still lazily rolling his hips and softly playing with your little pearl until you both reach your highest point and slowly come back down.

When the initial pleasure fades, he nudges your nose and finds his face buried in your neck. You’re both panting heavily and exhausted from lovemaking, and all you want to do is bask in each other's arms.

And that’s what you do, but the risk of getting caught is too high, especially cause you’re both in his bed. After you fall asleep, he takes you to your room and quickly changes the sheets so your mom won’t notice anything and goes back to sleep. He wishes you could be there with him, but he’d make that happen really soon.

“What is this?” Your mother barges through the door angrily, catching you and heeseung on the sofa holding each other. You quickly jump off his lap in shock, heart racing uncontrollably in your chest meanwhile, heeseung sits still, hiding you behind him. “How could you do this to me heeseung?!” She fake cries using her little victim tactic, except this time, it doesn’t work.

Usually, when heeseung heard his wife’s cries, it broke him to bits, but now he could only chuckle because of her nerve. Earlier in the morning, you had opened up to heeseung about everything that had been going on cause he deserved to know the full truth, and when he asked you to tell him what had been happening, you told him everything straight from the beginning.

And normally, it would have been upsetting for him to hear that his own wife was cheating on him, but he had no feelings other than relief from knowing she gave him just another reason to file for divorce after he found out the things she had done to you he had no love in his heart for her not even an ounce.

He never suspected his wife of being a cheater. He always trusted her no matter how many times she went out without telling him her whereabouts, but it also wasn’t a surprise when he found out cause the dots were connecting now. He no longer wondered why she was gone cause now he knew she was out cheating or hanging out with friends and spending his money. No wonder she didn’t want to treat him like a husband. It’s because she had someone else on the side. No wonder she didn’t want his body, no wonder after they got married, she showed zero interest in him. Now, he knew it was all just a ploy and a scheme to get half his assets and leave. Boy, was he blind, but thankfully, he now had you to show him to truth. Now he had someone that actually appreciated him, and instead of regretting his whole marriage, he was thankful for it cause it’s what ultimately led him to you, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“How could I do this to you?” He stands up and folds his arms an amused smile on his lips. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“W-what are you saying?” Her eyes shake between you both, and before anything can get thrown her way or accuse her of anything, she puts her dirty little plan in motion. “I can’t believe you’d break up the family like this, and I never thought I’d say this, but heeseung, I-I want a divorce!”

When he doesn’t give her the desired reaction is when she finally shows her true colors. “You’re right. It is the other way around,” she laughs, and heeseung can’t believe he ever even thought she was beautiful cause now everything about her was mean, ugly, and evil. “But at least now I’m finally free away from you both. You disgust me. I only ever stayed for your money. I never loved you. You know why I never had sex with you after we married? It’s because I despised you and I hated how I had to be attached to you, but in the end, it was all worth it cause now I get to live my life far away from you and that disgrace of a daughter of mine now I can live with the man of my dreams, and you can stay stuck with that disgusting bitch!” She yells at you, and you flinch, tears stinging your eyes cause through everything, she was still your mother.

“Funny how you call someone else a bitch” he laughs. “Are you done? Cause if you are, get out, and if I ever hear you call her out of her name again, I won’t be as nice.” Heeseung puts a protective arm around you for comfort. He could only imagine how you were feeling. Hell, it was hard for him, and he was just her husband, but as a daughter, it must feel so much worse.

“Not till half of everything is mine,” she states confidently.

“All yours.” he doesn’t fight back cause he has one little trick up his sleeve that neither of you knew about.

“Heeseung,” you whisper to him. He couldn’t just give her everything after what she’s done.

“It’s okay, angel, I got us, I swear” he kissed the crown of your head, and she scoffed.

“I want all my stuff packed by morning and I expect you to be nowhere in sight.” She turns on her heels confidently, striding out the door.

“Come here, angel, don’t mind anything she says, okay? I love you, my precious Angel, and you’re the furthest thing from any of those foul names she called you.” he rubs your cheek softly, and you melt into his touch. It would be hard moving on from this and living a life without your mother for the first time, but with heeseung, you felt like you could do anything. He made you feel safe, and he always knew the right words to say to make everything better.

“I love you, hee.” You hug him tightly, inhaling his scent, never wanting to let him go. You both sat in silence, taking everything in as he promised he’d do his best to make you feel loved the right way. “But what about all your stuff? Are you really going to let her take it all?” He just smiled at you, appreciating your concern for him and his belongings, but he had that covered too.

“Angel, I have cameras throughout the entire mansion so anything she’s ever done is on tape” he never once in his life thought that he’d have to use his cameras for abuse in his own family, but unfortunately, that’s what it’s come to, and though this would be a long grueling process in the court for you and him, he just knew after everything you both could live happily ever after, he could show you what real love felt like and he would keep you safe from all your mother's 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

𝐅𝐈𝐍.

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