#tag scenario

[hoshizoralone]

reflection

[mikoworks]

"Always There"

Part 1 - You are here

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

@anyamusumesonlywife @omagpies

[zephyrchama]

Mammon is highly possessive of you. It shows in all gestures big and small. From insisting you take the window seat so you're less visible from the train aisle, to wresting you away from his slimy brothers when they get too close. He takes out predatory loans to buy you a little something when you're feeling down. Usually treats and getaways. They're rumored to bring lovers closer together when shared, but you don't need to know about that. He reminds you that he's your first - that means he needs to be the priority in your life. Don't you forget it.

Mammon is also incredibly tsundere. "Whaddya think you're doing!?" he'll exclaim, pushing you away. His cheeks are as red as his savings account. "Tryin' to worm your way into my arms like that? Ain't never heard of a human as bold as you."

Except, he forgets that he's the one who grabbed you. Curled his arms protectively around you and pulled you into his chest as if shielding you from rains of hellfire. Guarded you from prying eyes of lesser beings and swept you away somewhere more secluded, all because a random salesman grabbed your shoulder. Only he's allowed to touch you like that. Only when his heart is ready.

[kokodrawings]

It's ok, Minato asked for permission first

[joshuamj]

Okay, but what if EoW!Zelda had to impersonate Link

[chrissssssmut]

Karina winter yeji yuna school smut?

AFTER SCHOOL

Karina, Winter, Yeji and Yuna x Male Reader

I should’ve known something was off the moment Ms. Shin smiled at me during homeroom. That too-sweet kind of smile teachers use when they’re about to ruin your afternoon.

"You’ve been falling behind," she said, tapping her red pen against a stack of missed assignments. "So I’m assigning you to a group for academic support."

My stomach sank.

She continued, writing names at the top of my worksheet with smooth, deliberate strokes.

"Karina. Winter. Yeji. And Yuna. They'll… keep you on task."

I blinked. Thought she was joking. But when I looked over to the corner of the room, all four of them were staring at me—smiling.

Not the friendly kind of smile, either.

Fast forward to now. The final bell has rung. The classroom is empty. Door locked. Blinds down. Lights dim.

And I’m sitting at a desk, laptop in front of me, surrounded by four girls who look like they’re about to pounce.

Karina stands behind me with her arms crossed, eyes half-lidded. Winter leans against the chalkboard like she owns the place. Yeji is seated right on my desk, legs swinging lazily, skirt hiked a little too high. Yuna is in the corner by the windows, playing with the buttons of her blouse.

Winter speaks first. Her voice is soft, cool. Dangerous.

"You're gonna open that laptop," she says, slowly walking toward me. "You're gonna finish everything on that worksheet. And you're not leaving until it’s done."

I open my mouth to protest, but she smiles.

"Unless," she adds, "you need a different kind of motivation."

My throat dries. “Motivation?”

Karina leans down behind me. I feel her breath on my ear before I even hear her voice.

“We’re very… persuasive,” she whispers, fingers brushing my shoulders. “But you have to follow instructions. Exactly. No excuses.”

“Okay,” I mutter, voice shaky. “I’ll work.”

Yeji chuckles and crosses one leg over the other, leaning in until her face is inches from mine.

“You’re gonna be such a good boy, aren’t you?”

Her fingers hook around the loose knot of my school tie. She yanks it gently, pulling me forward until my nose nearly brushes the lace trim of her underwear.

“We’ll make it worth your while,” she says, lips curling into a wicked smirk.

Across the room, Yuna lets out a breathy laugh. Her blouse is halfway unbuttoned now, bare skin peeking through.

“I hope you weren’t planning on leaving early,” she says, tossing her bra onto my open notebook like it’s just another school supply. “Because we’re not stopping until we break you.”

My heart is thundering in my chest. I open the laptop with trembling hands.

Winter moves behind me, sliding her fingers up under my uniform shirt. Her nails rake gently over my ribs, sending a full-body shiver up my spine.

Karina kneels beside my chair, her hands already at my belt.

She looks up at me with calm, unreadable eyes. “Let us take care of the distractions,” she murmurs. “You just type.”

My pants slide down. My boxers go next.

I barely get to the first question on the worksheet before Yeji grabs my jaw and turns my face toward her inner thigh.

“Finish the first page,” she purrs. “You get a taste.”

Karina’s lips wrap around me under the desk. I almost fall off the chair.

She takes her time, tongue working in slow, torturous swirls, lips soft but firm. My hands twitch on the keyboard.

“Don’t stop typing,” Yuna says, hopping up to sit on the desk beside me. She grabs my wrist and pulls it under her skirt. “But keep these fingers busy too, yeah?”

She moans softly as my fingers slip into her, wet and tight and so very ready.

Winter presses her chest against my back, her breath hot on my neck. “I’m going to ride you soon,” she whispers. “But if you cum before we say so…”

She drags her tongue over the shell of my ear.

“…we’ll start everything over from the beginning.”

Karina moans around my cock, her head bobbing rhythmically. Every time I twitch, she just sucks harder, like she’s daring me to lose control. Like she wants to see me beg.

“Focus,” Yeji says, eyes flicking down to my screen. “Get to question five.”

I’m drenched in sweat. Muscles tense. My brain is short-circuiting from sensation overload. I don’t even remember what I’m typing.

Winter slides onto my lap, lifting her skirt. No panties.

She sinks down onto me in one smooth motion.

I bite down a scream.

“You like that?” she whispers, hips grinding slow and deep. “You’re doing so well… but we’re not even halfway done.”

Yuna leans forward, tongue trailing a wet stripe up my chest, giggling as she sucks one of my nipples between her lips. Her hand stays between her legs, grinding against my fingers like a girl possessed.

Yeji’s rocking against my thigh now, one hand tangled in my hair, the other squeezing her own breast beneath her uniform. She watches me like a predator, drinking in every twitch, every gasp, every helpless moan I make.

Karina’s still beside the chair, stroking me every time Winter lifts herself up. Her hand moves in sync with Winter’s rhythm. Precise. Lethal.

“You’re going to cum soon,” Karina whispers. “Aren’t you?”

I nod, frantically, stupidly. I can’t hold on.

“No,” Yeji snaps, grabbing my face. “You wait.”

Winter tightens around me, grinding harder, her eyes fluttering shut. “Almost there,” she groans. “Don’t you dare cum until the worksheet’s done.”

I’m dying.

Everything burns. Everything pulses.

Karina strokes harder. Yuna moans louder. Winter rides faster.

Then Karina leans in, lips brushing my ear.

“Last question,” she says, voice honey-sweet. “If you get it right…”

Winter kisses me, full and messy and possessive.

“…we’ll let you cum.”

I slam the final key.

Everything explodes.

Winter cries out, clenching tight. Yuna throws her head back, riding my fingers until her thighs shake. Yeji bites her lip, watching me with wild, hungry eyes as I finally let go.

I cum hard, body wracked with pleasure, every nerve on fire.

Karina strokes me through it, slow and loving, like she wants to milk every drop.

The classroom is filled with panting. Moans. The quiet hum of my laptop.

I’m ruined.

Shirt half-off. Tie gone. Skin marked with lipstick and scratches. My legs are jelly. Brain fried.

Yuna giggles, hopping off the desk and adjusting her skirt.

“You passed,” she says.

“Barely,” Yeji adds, licking her lips.

Winter pulls away from my lap and kisses my jaw, her eyes dark and gleaming. “Don’t fall behind again.”

Karina tucks my shirt back in gently, then kisses my forehead like I’m some kind of good boy she’s proud of.

“Or next time,” she murmurs, lips brushing mine, “we won’t be so gentle.”

The Next Day

I didn’t even argue this time when Ms. Shin told me I’d be finishing today’s work in the library.

She gave me the same knowing smile, the one that sent a shiver down my spine yesterday, and handed me a thick packet of revision problems.

“Quiet place. No distractions,” she said.

Right.

By now, I knew better than to think I’d be studying alone.

And sure enough, not ten minutes into flipping through the pages in one of the back rows—hidden between the history section and some dusty old encyclopedias—I heard soft footsteps. The rustle of skirts. Giggling.

I didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.

“You really thought you’d get away from us?” Yeji’s voice came first, teasing and low. “That’s cute.”

I looked up just as the four of them stepped into view, uniforms still perfect, but expressions anything but innocent.

Winter shut the book in my hands with a little snap. “Did you miss us?”

Karina knelt beside me again, just like yesterday, but this time she didn’t say anything. Just stared at me with that serene, unreadable gaze, her hand already sliding up my thigh like it belonged there.

Yuna leaned against the bookshelf behind me, stretching her arms over her head like she didn’t care who saw. "Ms. Shin says you need to improve your focus,” she said, licking her lips. “So we’re here to help.”

I glanced around the library. There were a few other students up front, maybe two tables away. The librarian’s desk was clear.

This was insane.

But the heat in my gut didn’t care.

“Guys,” I whispered. “We’ll get caught—”

“We know,” Karina murmured, fingers teasing the waistband of my pants. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Yeji leaned down and dragged her nails down my arm. “You’re already hard. Don’t pretend you’re innocent.”

Winter smirked and pulled a chair across from me, spinning it so she straddled it backward, arms resting on the top. “Here’s the deal,” she said. “You solve five problems. For each correct answer, you get a reward.”

“And if you get one wrong…” Yuna grinned wickedly, fingers playing with the edge of her skirt, “We punish you. Quietly.”

Karina’s hand slipped into my pants, and I choked on my own breath.

I tried. I tried to focus.

The first question was something about historical treaties. I scribbled an answer, hands shaking.

Karina stroked me slowly, watching my every reaction like she was cataloguing them.

Winter got up and circled around to my side. She bent down, her lips brushing my ear.

“Correct,” she whispered. “So you get this—”

Her tongue flicked against my earlobe. Then her hand dipped between my legs, joining Karina’s, making me twitch violently in my seat.

I gritted my teeth, eyes squeezing shut.

"Focus," Yeji sang from behind her hand, pretending to read a book. "You're making faces. They’ll notice.”

I forced myself to the second problem. It was barely legible now.

Behind me, Yuna crouched and slid her hand under the back of my shirt, her nails scratching lightly down my spine.

“Wrong,” she whispered. “You mixed up the year.”

She reached around and grabbed me harshly, jerking me once, twice—just enough to make me see stars—then letting go.

“Bad boys don’t get to cum,” she hissed.

“Third question,” Karina said calmly. “If you get it right, maybe we’ll let you taste one of us.”

I nodded frantically and filled in the blank. Something about revolutions.

Winter peeked over my shoulder and smirked. “Close enough.”

Yeji pulled her chair closer and lifted one leg onto the table.

“No hands,” she whispered. “Just your mouth.”

I looked around—no one close.

Heart hammering, I leaned forward.

Yeji shivered when my tongue found her, legs trembling as she bit her fist to keep from moaning.

“You’re good at this,” she gasped. “Fuck—don’t stop—”

Karina gripped my chin and pulled me back.

“Fourth problem,” she said coolly. “Let’s see if your brain still works with your mouth busy.”

I barely read it. My hands were shaking. I circled an answer and prayed.

Winter checked it.

Then bent down, lifted her skirt, and sat on my lap, no underwear again.

“I’ll allow it,” she breathed, sinking down onto me.

I choked back a moan as her warmth enveloped me, and she immediately began grinding, slow and cruel and tight.

“Don’t. Make. A. Sound,” she hissed.

The table shifted slightly. Books wobbled.

Karina looked toward the front of the library.

“Shit,” she whispered. “Librarian’s coming.”

Yuna moved quickly, yanking a nearby blanket someone had left draped on the study chair and tossing it over my lap. Winter stayed perfectly still, biting her lip hard.

Yeji opened a book and leaned forward, pretending to read with exaggerated focus.

Karina sat back against the shelves, legs crossed, innocent as a nun.

The librarian’s heels clicked closer.

“Everything alright back here?” she asked.

I froze.

Winter didn’t. Her walls clenched.

“Just helping him study,” Karina said smoothly. “He’s working hard.”

The librarian hummed. “Good. Keep it down.”

As soon as she turned and walked off, Winter exhaled hard against my neck and began to ride me again, slower now, deliberately cruel.

“You’re not cumming until the last question’s done,” she whispered. “And we’re all satisfied.”

Yuna climbed onto the table and straddled my chest, pulling my face to her dripping heat. “Make up for question two,” she said.

Yeji stroked herself as she watched me tongue Yuna open, her moans muffled against her arm. Karina leaned down and whispered filth into my ear, her hands tugging and teasing me every time Winter lifted herself up.

“I’m close,” Winter gasped. “Hold on—don’t cum—”

“I’m—shit—I’m gonna—” I couldn’t hold it.

Karina’s nails dug into my thigh.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

Then everything blurred—Yuna came with a high, desperate whimper, Yeji followed moments after with a strangled moan, and Winter finally gasped my name as she pulsed around me, trembling.

Only then did Karina pull my face to hers and kiss me like she owned me.

“You did better today,” she said, stroking me slowly. “We’re proud.”

Winter slid off, carefully pulling the blanket back over my lap.

I was soaked. Spent. Fucked half-senseless.

Karina whispered, “You can finish now,” and stroked me just right.

I came so hard I almost saw white.

We cleaned up quietly—well, they did. I could barely move.

Karina kissed my temple.

Yeji fixed my tie.

Yuna tucked the worksheet into my bag.

Winter licked her fingers clean and winked. “Same time tomorrow?”

I nodded, dazed.

“Good,” Karina said softly. “Because next time…”

She leaned in, lips brushing mine.

“…we’re not letting you leave at all.”

It had been one day since the library.

One day since Karina whispered filth in my ear while riding me behind a bookshelf. One day since Winter, Yeji, and Yuna took turns teasing me to the edge with eyes locked on the door, waiting to see if someone—anyone—would walk in and catch us.

No one did.

But someone noticed.

“Come see me after class,” Ms. Shin said, sliding a post-it on my desk as she walked by.

No explanation. No expression. Just the quiet weight of her words and the way her eyes lingered on me… like she was studying a lie.

Karina leaned over from behind me. “She called you?”

I nodded.

“She knows,” Yeji said from the next desk, not even bothering to whisper.

“She suspects,” Winter corrected, looking too calm. “There’s a difference.”

Yuna, chewing on the tip of her pen, smiled lazily. “So what? She can’t prove anything.”

Karina’s fingers trailed up the back of my neck. “She doesn’t have to prove it. She just has to separate us.”

The idea made my stomach twist.

After the bell, I made my way to Ms. Shin’s office, heart pounding like a drumline. Her door was cracked open.

“Close it,” she said without turning around.

I obeyed.

She didn’t look at me at first. Just tapped her pen against a sheet of paper.

“I’ve taught here for eight years,” she said finally. “And I’ve never had a group as... close-knit as yours.”

I stayed silent.

“The four of them cling to you like satellites. Always orbiting. Always watching. And you… you’ve changed.”

“I—”

“Don’t lie to me,” she said sharply, cutting me off. “You’re distracted. Your posture, your eyes. You flinch when someone touches your shoulder. And your test scores are slipping.”

I clenched my fists.

“If something’s happening between you and those girls—something inappropriate—you need to tell me now.”

She turned toward me, eyes sharp and concerned.

“I can help you. I can reassign you. I can call your parents if you're too scared to say anything.”

“I’m not scared,” I said, too quickly.

“So there is something,” she murmured.

Shit.

I backpedaled fast. “No. I just meant—I don’t need help. There’s nothing going on.”

Ms. Shin leaned back slowly, searching my face.

“You’re a smart boy,” she said. “But you’re not a good liar.”

The room felt like it was shrinking.

“If I find out they’ve coerced you—”

“They didn’t,” I snapped.

That caught her off guard.

“They didn’t coerce me. It’s not… like that.”

“So what is it, then?” she asked.

I couldn’t answer. Because the truth was messier than anything she was imagining.

Karina walking into my room without knocking. Winter crawling into my lap with a hungry look. Yeji pinning me to a wall during break. Yuna whispering threats into my ear with a smile on her lips and her hand down my pants.

It wasn’t coercion.

It was obsession.

And it was mutual.

“I just want to focus on school,” I said, the lie catching in my throat. “That’s all.”

Ms. Shin looked unconvinced.

“You’ll work with me from now on,” she said. “No more group projects. No more ‘study sessions.’ You stay after school, here, under my supervision.”

“I—”

“That’s final.”

I left the office feeling like I’d been sentenced.

They were waiting.

Outside the classroom. All four of them.

Karina leaned against the wall, arms crossed, face unreadable.

Winter looked like she already knew what happened.

Yeji tilted her head. “How bad?”

“She’s pulling me from the group,” I muttered.

Yuna blinked. “She what?”

“She wants me working under her from now on.”

Karina stepped forward. “She’s trying to isolate you.”

Winter grabbed my hand. “That’s not going to happen.”

Yeji glanced down the hallway. “Where is she now?”

“She’s still in her office,” I said. “Planning whatever ‘private sessions’ she has in mind.”

Yuna smiled, slow and feral. “So we beat her to it.”

“What?”

Karina took my wrist, firm and final. “Storage room. Now.”

The door clicked shut behind us.

No light. Just shadows and breath.

Winter pinned me against the shelf first. “She wants to protect you?”

Yeji’s hands slid under my shirt. “She wants to own you.”

Karina was unbuttoning my pants already. “But she’s too late.”

Yuna pulled her skirt up. “We claimed you first.”

The girls didn’t take turns this time. They swarmed.

Hands everywhere—Karina’s mouth on my neck, Winter’s fingers around my length, Yeji licking up my chest, Yuna grinding on my thigh.

I tried to speak. Couldn’t.

“You don’t want her,” Winter whispered against my ear. “You want this.”

“You want us,” Karina hissed, sinking down onto me before I could even gasp. “Say it.”

“I want you,” I groaned, biting my lip to muffle it.

Karina rode me hard, fast, one hand clamped over my mouth while Yeji held my hips still. Winter and Yuna knelt below, licking and moaning, their tongues trailing over everything Karina left exposed.

“I’ll go to her office,” Yuna whispered between licks. “I’ll tell her to back off.”

Karina moaned. “If she doesn’t... we’ll make her.”

The climax hit hard and fast, Karina milking me dry while the other girls moaned, whispering about how they’d keep me hidden forever if they had to.

Afterward, they dressed me, button by button, fixing my tie like nothing had happened.

“She’s watching,” Karina said. “We know.”

Winter cupped my cheek. “She’ll try to separate us.”

Yuna kissed me softly. “Let her try.”

Yeji leaned close, voice like velvet. “If she takes you… we’ll take you back.”

[chirrups]

feast my fellow owl enthusiasts

[lucabyte]

even dogs pass the mirror test

[acid-ixx]

a loving family, an unpalatable desire

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.

imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.

you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.

you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.

really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.

yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.

the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.

but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.

you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.

yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.

you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.

you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.

maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.

and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.

''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.

and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.

you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.

your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—

it's everything a parent wants, needs even.

and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.

so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.

a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.

[fcthots]

Jason Todd with sharp canines that he accidentally nips you with all the time. At some point you kinda just have to shove your hand in his mouth to take a look and find out what the fuck he has in there that could possibly be doing this shit. He just sort of lets you without question and complains in muffled gibberish around your hand.

He does apologize profusely every time he knicks you though (and depending on what he was trying to do, he’ll lick or kiss it better). Unfortunately he refuses to do it on purpose.

But if you distract him enough with your hands tugging on the roots of his hair while he’s trying to leave a hickey… let’s just say he has a hard time focusing on being careful.

[mikoworks]

"Always There"

Part 1

Part 2 - You are here

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

@anyamusumesonlywife @omagpies @charasstick @chilchucks-timbs @lesbirae13 @wrpd-nylvm @cecizilla1 @woolzine125 @tctheintrovert @femtanyladdict @nobecausecheese @dldzz

[brokenrefraction]

alright my dearest and humblest most sincere brother, imperator of this sleep-nurse tumblr dot come popolus. the time has come

it was either in two business days or the last ask you receive determines it

its the time. unearth to everyones eyes the body pillow of dr welcome smile corporation creation. i will await with open arms. god fucking damknit why does it have to be when i cant spa m relbog ts cus my phone is on charge

sigh. welp. you guys asked for it. I TOLD YALL ITS CRINGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM NOT LYING WHEN I SAY ITS CRINGE fuck my stupid life

feel free to kill me now

i need my amisulpride

[callmebread]

What if Pitbon met Oswald when he was a baby?

✨REBLOGS APPRECIATED✨

[hoonatic]

emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3

sunghoon was miserable. 

it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.

he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.

at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.

he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.

but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself. 

you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.

but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.

he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.

he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn’t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.

so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.

he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.

but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.

SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.

sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.

he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.

his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.

“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”

but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.

for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.

finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.

the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.

why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.

when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.

he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?

the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?

“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.

as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.

“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.

as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you. 

the officer, however, pulled him back.

“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”

“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”

“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”

all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.

he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.

he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,

“sunghoon?!”

his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.

he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms. 

you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,

“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”

suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.

that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.

you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”

the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.

you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.

“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."

"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."

sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,

“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”

after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.

he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.

“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”

you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.

his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.

but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.

he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.

“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.

you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”

“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.

“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”

“i quit my job.”

“excuse me?”

“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.

you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?

while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.

he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.

you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.

“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”

sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”

“okay. and i love you too. can’t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”

one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.

[chrissssssmut]

I really like your stories if I may request.... Um can you please write Step Mom Chaewon x male reader, where Chaewon really after is not his father but y/n

My Stepmom's Secret

Chaewon x Male Reader

The scent of jasmine tea hit your nose before the sound of her voice ever did.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

You blinked, a little disoriented by the soft warmth of the sun spilling through the kitchen window, and the far more disorienting warmth of Chaewon, standing barefoot on the cold tile, wearing only a long silk robe that clung to her figure like it had no right to. One hand stirred the tea, the other braced on the marble counter. Her hair was slightly damp, probably from the shower, and your eyes — you couldn’t help it — trailed down the curve of her neck to where the robe tied at her waist.

You cleared your throat. “Hey… uh. Morning.”

Chaewon smiled. The same smile she always gave you — just a little too slow. A little too knowing.

“You always get so quiet around me in the mornings,” she said, walking toward the table. “Still shy, even after all this time?”

“I’m not shy,” you muttered, pretending to scroll through your phone. “Just not a morning person.”

She let out a hum, the sound purring low in her throat as she placed a mug of tea in front of you. Her fingers brushed your hand. Deliberate. Lingering.

You didn’t move. You didn’t look up.

Chaewon did, crouching slightly to meet your eyes. “I like you quiet, actually,” she said, voice low. “Makes it easier to see what you’re really thinking.”

Your heart kicked once, sharp.

“I’m not thinking anything.”

“Oh, you’re definitely thinking something,” she murmured, gaze locked on yours. “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching.”

“I don’t—”

“You stare at my legs when I’m in shorts,” she continued. “You clench your jaw when I wear this robe. You hold your breath when I walk too close.”

“Chaewon—”

“Say it.” Her voice hardened, just slightly. “Say what you’re thinking right now.”

You stared at her, pulse loud in your ears. The room felt hotter, suddenly. Smaller.

“…You’re my stepmom.”

Her lips curled into a smirk. “That’s not what I asked.”

You stood up, too fast, the chair scraping behind you. “I’m not doing this. Where’s Dad?”

She leaned back against the table, crossing her arms — the silk of her robe falling open just enough to hint at the curve of her inner thigh.

“Business trip,” she said simply. “Won’t be back until Monday.”

Your breath hitched. You hated how your brain immediately did the math: that’s six nights.

“You planned this.”

Chaewon tilted her head. “Planned what?”

“This,” you hissed. “You knew he was leaving. You waited until I came home from college for the weekend. You—”

“I’ve always waited for you,” she interrupted. “You think I married him because I loved him? No. I married him because it gave me an excuse to stay close to you.”

Your blood ran cold. Hot. Then cold again.

“I saw you before he even introduced us,” she said, her tone sweet, almost dreamy. “That party, remember? You were standing near the pool, wet hair, a little tipsy. God, you looked like a sin waiting to happen.”

“You’re insane,” you whispered.

She stepped forward. “I’m in love.”

You backed into the counter, the edge pressing against your hips.

“Do you know how hard it was,” she whispered, “to play the role of the doting wife? To sleep next to a man I don’t care about just so I could stay close to you?”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m devoted,” she corrected, pressing one hand to your chest. “Devoted to you. I’ve waited two years, baby. Every little smile you gave me… every time you accidentally brushed against me walking down the hall… every time you said my name. I burned for you.”

You swallowed hard. “This is wrong.”

“Says who?”

Her lips hovered just inches from yours. Her fingers slipped beneath your shirt, slowly dragging her nails down your abdomen. You didn’t stop her. You didn’t say anything.

Because your body was betraying you. Because the truth was, you had stared at her. Wanted her. Dreamed about her in ways that left you guilty and breathless.

And she knew it.

“I knew you’d want me,” she whispered, tracing your waistband. “It’s in your eyes. The way you’re breathing right now.”

“Fuck…”

Her hand slipped inside your shorts, curling around your half-hard cock like she’d done it a thousand times in her head. You shuddered. She leaned in and kissed your neck, soft and slow, her voice purring against your skin.

“Let me show you what two years of obsession looks like.”

You grabbed her wrist, but your grip was weak. Shaky. She didn’t stop — she stroked you, slow and possessive.

“I thought about you when I touched myself,” she confessed. “Every night. Quiet so your dad wouldn’t hear. But it was always you. Only you.”

You gasped, hips twitching.

“I thought about your mouth,” she breathed, dragging her tongue up your neck, “your fingers, your cock… how good it’d feel inside me.”

“Jesus, Chaewon—”

“I’m yours,” she moaned. “Always have been. So take me.”

You pulled her into a kiss, finally breaking. She tasted like tea and sin. Her hands clawed at your shirt, yours tangled in her robe, tearing the silk apart. You pushed her onto the kitchen table, dishes clattering, and she let out a low moan.

“God, I knew you’d be rough,” she gasped as you shoved her panties aside, fingers plunging inside her slick heat. “I dreamed about this. Being laid out for you.”

Your fingers moved fast, deep, curling to hit the spot that made her cry out.

“Louder,” you growled. “Let the neighbors hear what a fucking mess you are.”

Her thighs trembled. She reached up, dragging you closer, biting your lip as she whispered:

“Fill me. Ruin me. Make me yours.”

You didn’t hesitate.

You tore your shorts off and pressed your cock to her entrance, the slick heat of her body welcoming you in inch by inch. She was tight — impossibly so — and her nails dug into your back as you started thrusting.

“You feel so good,” she moaned, wrapping her legs around your waist. “Better than I imagined. You were made for me.”

Your rhythm grew brutal, desperate. The table creaked under you. Her moans echoed through the house.

“You gonna cum in your stepmom?” she whispered, voice broken with pleasure. “Gonna mark me? Claim me?”

“Yes,” you gasped, thrusts erratic. “Fuck—yes.”

Her body seized under you as she came, crying out your name like a prayer.

And then you followed, groaning against her neck, burying yourself deep inside her with one final thrust.

For a moment, everything was silent. Just your heartbeats. The soft tremble in her thighs. The stickiness between your hips.

Then she whispered:

“Now you can’t leave me.”

You blinked.

“You’re mine,” she said, smiling through the afterglow. “I made sure of it. No more running.”

You stared at her.

Chaewon reached up and cupped your face gently.

“I won’t let you go, baby. I didn’t come this far to lose you now.”

And the terrifying part?

You didn’t want her to let go.

You hadn’t been able to think straight for five days.

Ever since that morning in the kitchen, Chaewon hadn’t let you breathe without her hands somewhere on your body — brushing your chest when you passed by, sitting on your lap during dinner, sucking your fingers under the table. The worst part?

You let her.

You wanted her. Always had. And now that you’d tasted her — claimed her — she wasn’t just in your head anymore.

She was in your blood.

“Come back to bed,” she purred, tugging at the hem of your hoodie. Her body was warm against your side, bare under one of your t-shirts, her breath hot against your neck as you stood by the hallway mirror trying to fix your hair.

“Someone’s gonna come to the door soon,” you said, checking your phone. “That thing I ordered’s out for delivery.”

Chaewon pouted, pressing her hips to your back. “Let them knock.”

You turned, raising an eyebrow. “You're seriously insatiable.”

“I’ve waited two years, baby,” she murmured, slipping her hands into your sweatpants. “You don’t get to complain.”

Your breath hitched as she gripped your cock — already semi-hard from the constant teasing. She smiled at the reaction.

“There he is,” she whispered, kneeling in front of you like a devout worshipper. “Missed me, didn’t you?”

You groaned as her mouth wrapped around your tip — soft, warm, wet. Her tongue circled lazily, eyes locked on yours.

“This is so fucked,” you muttered.

Chaewon pulled off just long enough to whisper, “You love it.”

And you did.

You leaned against the wall as she sucked you deep, her throat taking you inch by inch like she’d trained for it. Her hands dug into your thighs, keeping you from moving. From escaping. Not that you’d even try.

Then the doorbell rang.

You both froze.

Chaewon glanced up with wide eyes — but her mouth never left your cock.

“…Chaewon,” you hissed.

She smirked around you and sucked harder, deliberately bobbing her head as you twitched in her mouth. You heard the doorbell again — and then the sound of a truck idling out front.

“Get the door,” she said breathlessly, pulling off with a pop. “Now.”

“I—what—are you serious?!”

She pushed you toward the door, hand still stroking you fast and wet.

“Open it,” she growled. “I want you to see how good you look with your cock in my mouth while someone else stands right there.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Your knees nearly buckled.

You cracked the door open just a bit — heart pounding — and there he was: the mailman. Young. Bored. Holding a package and glancing down at the label.

“Package for… uh, Y/N?”

You nodded stiffly. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Chaewon’s mouth wrapped around you again, hidden just out of sight behind the doorframe. You barely managed to hold your breath.

The mailman squinted. “You okay, dude?”

“Y-Yeah,” you choked out. “Just… allergies.”

Chaewon moaned around your cock. Loud.

You nearly dropped the package.

“Uh… right,” the guy said slowly, handing it over. “Have a good one.”

You slammed the door the second he turned.

“Chaewon—fuck—what the hell is wrong with you?!”

She pulled off, spit connecting her lips to your tip. Her eyes were blown wide with lust.

“You are,” she whispered. “You’re what’s wrong with me.”

And then she swallowed you whole.

You doubled over, hand slamming against the wall. She was ruthless now — bobbing fast, sloppy, desperate. Her eyes welled with tears but she didn’t stop. Didn’t care. She needed this.

“I’m close,” you warned.

She didn’t let up.

You came hard, hips jerking forward as she sucked you dry. She moaned around your release, swallowing it all — eyes fluttering shut like she was tasting something divine.

When you finally pulled back, gasping, she wiped her mouth and licked her lips.

“God, you taste even better when you’re trying not to moan,” she purred.

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you,” she said sweetly, standing and wrapping her arms around your neck. “I want you every minute of every day. I want your cock in my mouth when you do the dishes. I want to ride you when you’re on your stupid little Zoom calls. I want to jerk you off under the table while we eat dinner with your dad.”

You stiffened. “He’s back tomorrow.”

“I know.”

You swallowed. “You’re not planning to stop.”

She leaned in, brushing your lips with hers.

“I’m planning to ruin you.”

And then she kissed you — slow and deep, her tongue still tasting faintly like you. Her hands wandered south again, never content, always hungry.

“Take me to your room,” she whispered. “And lock the door this time.”

You didn’t think.

You just obeyed.

The front door clicked open around noon.

You were on the couch, pretending to scroll your phone, though you hadn’t read a single word in the last hour. Your skin was still warm from the shower — mostly because Chaewon had joined you halfway through and ridden you against the tile wall like she’d been starving — but your nerves had started to catch up.

And then you heard it:

“Hey! I’m home!”

Your father’s voice.

You stiffened.

Chaewon walked in from the kitchen a second later, already wiping her hands on a towel. She was wearing a soft knit dress, something casual, something subtle — but you knew better now. The neckline was a little too low. The fabric a little too thin. Her smile a little too perfect.

“Welcome back, honey!” she said sweetly, moving to greet him with a quick kiss on the cheek. “Did everything go well?”

“Same old, same old,” he said, dropping his bag. “Tired as hell. God, I missed real food.”

You stood up awkwardly. “Hey, Dad.”

He turned, grinning. “There’s my college man!”

He laughed and pulled you into a side hug. You could feel Chaewon watching. Could feel the heat behind her pleasant little smirk as she stood beside the man she married — a man completely oblivious to the fact that you’d been inside her less than twelve hours ago.

Dinner was quiet. Tense, at least for you.

The table was set like any normal Sunday — steak, roasted potatoes, steamed vegetables. Your dad poured wine. Talked about flights and meetings and a coworker who snored in the hotel room next door.

You tried to focus. To nod at the right parts. To laugh when you were supposed to.

But then you felt it.

A hand on your thigh.

You froze.

Chaewon didn’t miss a beat. She cut into her steak, chewed slowly, eyes flicking to yours just for a second — like a dare.

Her hand slid higher.

You glanced at your dad. He was sipping his wine, still mid-sentence about airport security lines.

Her fingers reached your zipper. Undid it.

You shifted in your seat, your fork trembling slightly in your grip.

Chaewon leaned in, casually brushing her shoulder against yours as her hand slipped into your pants. Her fingers curled around your cock, already half-hard from the tension alone.

You clenched your jaw.

“So,” your dad said, smiling at Chaewon. “He’s been behaving while I was gone?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said sweetly, giving your cock a stroke. “He’s been very… obedient.”

You choked on your wine.

Your dad raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

You coughed. “Yeah. Wrong pipe.”

Chaewon’s hand moved slower now — cruel, teasing — stroking you just enough to make it torture. Her thumb grazed your tip. You twitched under the table.

“Dinner’s great,” you managed to say, voice tight.

“I’m glad,” she said, squeezing gently. “I made it just for you.”

You reached for your glass again, desperate for something — anything — to ground yourself. Her hand moved faster. More confident now.

Your father didn’t notice a thing.

“…and then this idiot from procurement tried to expense a whole box of Cuban cigars,” he was saying. “Swore it was for client relations.”

Chaewon’s fingers twisted. You bit your tongue.

Her lips brushed your ear, voice a breathless whisper.

“Be good and I’ll let you cum later. Be bad and I’ll make you beg for it.”

You nearly groaned out loud.

She pulled her hand back just as your dad stood to grab more wine from the fridge. You exhaled like you’d been underwater.

Chaewon leaned over, reaching for the salt — her hand brushing your crotch one last time, like a reward.

“Such a good boy,” she whispered.

You stared at your plate, your appetite gone.

Because the worst part wasn’t the danger. Wasn’t the risk.

It was the fact that you wanted more.

Later that night

The house was still.

You lay in your bed, the sheets kicked off, your breath shallow, your body burning.

You could still feel her hand on you. Still feel the pulse of her voice in your ear. That smug look in her eyes when she cleaned up dinner like a model housewife and kissed your father goodnight with the same mouth that had whispered filth to you under the table.

You heard the bedroom door creak open down the hall.

Footsteps.

Muted.

Your dad’s voice — sleepy.

“Mm… you coming to bed now?”

Chaewon’s voice, soft and sweet. “Just a second, baby. I’ll be right in.”

A pause.

A kiss.

Then the bedroom door closed again.

You waited.

Fifteen seconds. Thirty. A full minute.

Then—

Your door cracked open.

Chaewon stood there in the hallway light, wrapped in a silk robe. Thin, nearly see-through. Her eyes glinted with something wicked.

She stepped in. Closed the door behind her.

You sat up slightly. “Chaewon—”

She pressed a finger to her lips, silencing you.

Then she crawled onto the bed.

Not a word. Not a sound.

She straddled your lap, robe parting just enough to show that there was nothing underneath.

You whispered, “He’s still awake—”

“And I’m still wet,” she whispered back, rolling her hips into yours. “You’ve been making me crazy all day.”

You swallowed hard.

She leaned in and kissed you — slow, hungry, the kind of kiss that made you forget your own name. Her hands pushed your shirt up. You felt her nipples brush your chest, already hard.

“I tucked him in,” she whispered. “Even gave him a little kiss on the forehead. Told him I loved him.”

You shivered.

“And now,” she said, biting your bottom lip, “I’m going to ride his son like a filthy slut.”

You groaned.

She untied the robe slowly, shrugging it off her shoulders like a present just for you. Her body was perfect in the moonlight — soft curves, tight waist, thighs that trembled with anticipation.

She reached between you, guided you to her entrance.

And then sank down with a gasp.

You clutched her hips, trying not to moan. Her walls hugged you, warm and slick, and she arched her back as she took every inch, her head tipping back with a silent cry.

“Fuck…” she breathed. “You feel even better when I know he’s asleep down the hall.”

She began to move.

Slow at first — grinding in little circles — her hands braced on your chest. Her pace built with each bounce, her breath coming faster, skin slapping against yours in faint, wet rhythm.

Your fingers dug into her waist. “Chaewon—”

“Shhh,” she hissed, smirking. “Do you want him to hear me moan your name?”

You bit your tongue, barely holding it together.

Chaewon leaned close again, her lips brushing your ear. “You like this? Knowing I’m his wife, but I’m only yours when the lights go out?”

You nodded, breathless.

She grinned, licking a stripe up your neck. “Good. Because I’m not stopping until you cum so hard it hurts.”

She slammed down harder now, faster, her thighs quivering, her mouth open in breathless pleasure. Her nails scraped your chest. Her voice — barely a whisper — poured filth into your ear like honey:

“Call me mommy again. Go on. Whisper it.”

You choked on your groan. “Mommy…”

“Louder.”

“Mommy—!”

She clenched around you with a gasp, her orgasm hitting fast and fierce. You felt it — her whole body trembling, pussy gripping you like a vice.

And then you couldn’t hold it anymore.

You came inside her, hard, your hips jerking as she rode you through it — milking you dry with each slow grind of her soaked cunt.

When it was done, she collapsed on your chest, both of you panting in the dark.

After a long moment, she giggled.

“Still think I’m just your stepmom?”

You blinked at the ceiling. “You’re a fucking menace.”

She nuzzled into your neck. “And you’re mine.”

Then she kissed you one more time — sweetly this time — and whispered:

“Don’t fall asleep yet. I want a second round in the shower.”

Ten minutes later

The bathroom was filled with steam.

Water ran hot from the showerhead, fogging the mirror, hissing over tile. You leaned against the wall, barely able to stand, body still recovering from the first time she wrecked you.

Chaewon pressed up against your back, her arms wrapped around your waist from behind, her breasts warm against your spine. She kissed a line across your shoulder, hands already moving again — relentless, greedy.

“I wasn’t kidding,” she whispered. “I need more.”

You groaned as she slid one hand down your stomach, fingers wrapping around your cock — already hard again. Her other hand braced against your chest.

“Chaewon…” you panted. “You’re insatiable.”

“Mmhmm,” she purred. “You’ve ruined me. I can’t get enough.”

She began to stroke you — slow and teasing — her lips brushing your neck, her thighs slick against yours. You thrust into her hand, already pulsing.

Then—

A knock.

Both of you froze.

“Hey, bud?” your dad’s voice came through the door, muffled. “You in the shower?”

Your blood turned to ice.

Chaewon’s eyes went wide.

You opened your mouth to respond but she slapped a hand over it.

“Shhh,” she mouthed.

Your heart pounded.

“I—uh—yeah,” you called out, your voice cracking slightly. “Just… just taking a quick one.”

“Alright. Thought I heard something,” your dad said from the hallway. “You good?”

You nodded — stupidly, as if he could see you — and croaked out: “Yeah. Totally fine.”

There was a pause.

Then—

“Okay. Just checking. Night, kid.”

You waited, breath frozen in your lungs, until the footsteps faded.

Then you turned to Chaewon.

“What the fuck was that?!”

She grinned.

And then sank to her knees.

“No one said I had to stop.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

The water poured down over her as she wrapped her lips around you — warm, wet, and sinfully good. Her tongue worked expertly, her eyes locked on yours, daring you to make a sound.

Your back hit the tile wall as you gripped her soaked hair, biting your lip to keep from groaning out loud.

She was relentless. Her mouth slid deeper with each bob of her head, her hand stroking your base, her other hand cupping your balls, rolling them gently.

You hissed. “He’s still awake…”

She popped off for a second. “Then be quiet.”

And just like that, she took you in again — this time deeper, letting you hit the back of her throat. She moaned around you, the vibrations making your knees buckle.

It was torture. Blissful, cruel torture.

And then she pulled off with a wet gasp, stood up, and turned around, pressing her palms to the wall.

She looked over her shoulder.

“Take me. Now. Quietly.”

You didn’t even hesitate.

You grabbed her hips, lined yourself up, and slid inside her soaking core — hot, tight, perfect.

She bit her hand to keep from crying out, her body arching back into yours. You began to move — slow but deep, every thrust making her press her face into her arm to muffle the sounds.

Her walls fluttered around you. She was close again.

So were you.

And right as your climax built, she whispered, “Cum in me. Do it. Fill me up while your dad sleeps two rooms away.”

You didn’t last another second.

You exploded inside her with a muffled groan, your hand over your mouth, hips slamming forward as she clenched around you in ecstasy.

You both collapsed under the stream of water, breathing hard, hearts racing.

She leaned back against you, eyes fluttering shut. “That,” she whispered, “was so fucking hot.”

You stared at her, chest heaving.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

She smirked.

“Only if your dad doesn’t catch us first.”

[ladycharlottexoxo]

masterbating. stranger sex with vi in a bathroom stall. vibrator. degradation. daddy kink.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ you love playing with yourself and exploring new ways to push yourself sexually, but you never thought wearing a vibrator in public would become this much of a hazard. your thighs rub together as you tried to steady yourself, climbing onto the bus like every other passenger. so far so good.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ the intensity of the vibrator is set on random so you're squirming a little when your clit got stimulated a bit too much under your skirt. your toes curling and uncurling in your shoe to try to distract yourself from the intense pleasure in your panties.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ the bus hardbraked and you lost balance, going crashing into the muscular woman opposite you. vi's eyes widen when she feels the vibration through your skirt and onto her thigh. “no way,” she whispers to herself when you pull back immediately, not knowing that vi now knew the story in your panties.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ “you sure, you don't wanna relieve yourself?” vi muttered in your ear a bit later, voice low so it was only you who could hear. you flush red and look at her with wide eyes.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ that's how you found yourself against a public bathroom wall, which was surprisingly clean, getting your pussy fingered by this stranger. you moan, “o-oh, why are your fingers so long?” you complained, pussy clenching deliciously around the intruding digits causing the hot stranger to laugh. “you gon' keep callin' me daddy or you gonna catch my name, impolite slut?” she curled her fingers.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ “im s-s-sorry!” you cried out, taking a second to catch your breath before asking for her name in the smallest little coo possible, vi chuckled, shaking her head. this was how you both started dating.