༊*·˚Museonce

This morning smells like chocolate chip cookies, one of your signature recipes and his personal favorite. Although, he isn’t able to tell you that since Jaehyun’s favorite was your blueberry scones. 

It’s been just over three months since Jungkook buried his brother, and therefore living as him, too. He has a fairly steady routine now, especially after returning to work as CEO of Jeon Industries last month. 

That’s been the hardest assimilation of all because he never witnessed that side of his twin’s life. Thankfully, a common symptom of major grief and depression is memory loss. So, no one questions why he can’t recall certain projects or statistics. Jaehyun was also an avid note taker, giving Jungkook a starting point to pick up where he left off without too many issues. 

In addition, he and his family have finished handling all his belongings and significant possessions. 

Jennie is still running Kookie’s using money from the business account. But the funds are finite and Jungkook’s been brainstorming about where to go from here. He would be more than happy to finance it using Jaehyun’s salary, but Jennie didn’t sign up to be an owner and he refuses to force more responsibility on her than she might want. 

After sorting through and cleaning out his apartment, including putting any sentimental or valuable items in storage, they placed it on the market and it sold within a couple weeks. 

His motorcycle’s currently parked in your garage. You and him have discussed what to do a few times and it takes all of Jungkook’s willpower to pretend it wouldn’t kill him to see it sold.

Living as your husband is the easiest task of all and also the only reason he’s even managing to cope with Jaehyun’s death. You’re thoughtful, considerate, understanding, and loving twenty four freaking hours a day and he’ll never be able to properly thank you for being his saving grace these last three months. 

When he descends the stairs, he sees you lying horizontally on the couch with a new baking tips book. You clearly notice him enter the room because although your eyes don’t leave the page, a small smile appears. 

Just that hint of happiness on your face is enough to make Jungkook’s whole day, maybe even his week. His feelings for you have grown exponentially and honestly, if they got any bigger, love would start bursting right out of him. 

As he rounds the couch, he places one knee between your legs before plucking the book from your hands and laying it flat on the coffee table so you don’t lose your place. 

“Hey!”

“Hey, yourself,” he drawls while one hand loops around your waist and the other finds the armrest behind you.

You squeal as Jungkook effortlessly tugs you closer until he can dip his head to kiss up the side of your throat. The air around you both floods with giggles while he paints you in saliva by trailing his lips anywhere they can reach. When he’s decidedly done, he fake growls and bites the soft spot just below your ear.

“Jae!” You laugh and kick your legs that are sandwiched between his own. 

He lifts his head up with a bright, joyous grin and then steals a quick peck from your lips. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” 

“Nuh uh, get back here,” you demand. 

Your fingers clutch his shirt to pull him completely on top of you, causing Jungkook to chuckle. But he still seamlessly follows the wordless command by kissing you again. While his grip tightens until your bodies are flush, your arms circle his neck so you can sink your digits into his hair. 

The two of you lazily make out, with little care for the pace or precision of your mouths. Your teeth clink together every so often, you both accidentally tug on the other’s bottom lip too hard, and your tongues clash in awkward ways, but neither of you care in the slightest. 

Jungkook’s other hand eventually traces down your curves until he reaches your hip, where he tilts your leg to hook it around him. The new angle makes you moan into his mouth and yank on his hair, a sure sign of how badly you crave him.

The problem is Jungkook can’t give you what you want, or at least, he isn’t ready to. For the last three months, this is as far as you two have gone sexually. It’s the one line he hasn’t been able to cross and he’s thankful you’ve been so understanding. Of course, you believe it's because of grief, rather than him being unable wrap his mind around betraying his brother to that extent.

Sure, maybe it’s hypocritical when his tongue’s already down your throat and his cock’s brushing against your clit through your clothes, but it feels like an entirely different category. 

“Shit, baby,” he rasps once his mental fortitude starts to wane. The heat of the moment is burning him alive and he simply can’t continue no matter how much he wants to. “I’m sorry, I —”

“It’s okay,” you instantly reassure him.

“It isn’t, and I know that, and I promise I’m trying, I just...” He inhales through his nose to slow his racing heartbeat. “I can’t… yet.”

One of your hands slides down to cup his cheek. 

“It is okay, baby.” You smile at him before sitting up just enough to kiss the tip of his nose. “I don’t mind waiting.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“I genuinely don’t care, Jae. We’ve been having sex for a decade and a half. I think I can handle a little dry spell.”

He knows he can’t keep you waiting forever and he’ll eventually have to bite the bullet, but he has no clue when his guilt will allow him to do so.

“Okay,” he concedes.

“Can I ask you something, though?” After nodding his head, Jungkook moves away while guiding your upper body into a sitting position so you’re facing one another on the couch. “What’s holding you back? I mean, it’s not like Kookie would be upset with you for having sex so soon after his death.”

“No, he wouldn’t. It isn’t that.” Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair as he conjures up an adequate reason. “I just don’t think I would be able to focus enough to give you what you deserve. My mind constantly wonders between the grief, sorrow, anger, and whatever other emotions might be plaguing me that day. And if I’m going to make love to my wife, I want it to be all I’m thinking about.”

It isn’t a complete lie. Jungkook truly can’t set his mind on a single track for more than a few minutes no matter how hard he tries. 

In response, you thoughtfully hum while nibbling on your lower lip.

“Well, what if we started small? You know, just a little handiwork here and there or some oral every once in a while. Short bursts of intimacy where you wouldn’t have to focus for too long.”

Dammit, your intelligence will be the fucking death of him. 

Although, perhaps your approach would help solve the actual issue as well. He wouldn’t have to dive headfirst into the deep end and could slowly get acquainted with the notion until he’s ready. 

“I think that’s a great idea, sweetheart.”

“Really?” 

The sight of your eyes lighting up is the only push Jungkook needs. He would do anything to keep a smile on your face. 

That’s the very source of his problems in the first place. 

“Absolutely. Maybe we can, uh, give it a shot over the next couple weeks or so.” 

“I’ll follow your lead.”

“Thank you.” Jungkook leans in for one last kiss. “I love you.”

You giggle as if he doesn’t tell you at least a hundred times a day.

“I love you, too, baby.” There’s a brief pause before you gasp in realization and shoot up from the couch. “You have to try the cookies!”

Jungkook’s hand is immediately commandeered when you yank him off the couch and guide him into the kitchen where two dozen chocolate chip cookies are resting on cooling racks. Beside them is a ceramic cake platter you made with a small sign labeling it “Kookie’s Treats.” It’s where you leave the six extra desserts you bake with every recipe in honor of him. The treats always go uneaten and straight into the trash once you bake something else, but the comfort it brings you is worth the waste. 

“Haven’t I already tried this recipe?” 

“You tried the old one,” you explain. “This one uses brown butter.”

“What makes the butter brown?” 

“Heating it up.”

“Ah.”

With an eager grin, you delicately remove one of the cookies from the rack and pass it to him. Jungkook smiles prior to taking a liberal bite and per usual, it’s one of the best goddamn things he’s ever tasted. 

He moans in delight and his whole face scrunches as he nods to convey its deliciousness to you. After he swallows the last crumb, he shakes his head in awe and disbelief.

“Those taste unbelievable, sweetheart.” When his eyes meet yours again, he finds you looking like a heartbroken deer in headlights and there are even unshed tears along your waterline. “What’s wrong?”

You sniffle and shake your head to stop the droplets from actually falling.

“Nothing, it’s just… sometimes I swear it’s like Jungkook possesses you for a second.” 

Jungkook’s heart drops and almost drowns in his stomach acid. 

“What do you mean?”

“You just made his good food face,” you state.

Shit.

He always tries his best to refrain from doing anything that’s too him, but clearly your cookies were so good it caused him to momentarily forget his responsibilities. 

Thankfully, the idea that he isn’t Jaehyun is so ludicrous you land on spiritual possession first. Naturally. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles with his eyes tilted down. “I feel that way too sometimes.”

“It’s a good thing.” His eyebrows rise with intrigue. “Makes me miss him a little less when pieces of him come out through you.” 

He sighs in relief along with a sweet smile.

“Me, too.”

You end up offering Jungkook one more treat before separating the spare half dozen and storing the remainder in one of your many cookie jars. 

It’s Saturday so he doesn't have to run off to the office like he does during the week. Although he still has errands, including stopping by the bar to have a conversation with Jennie. 

He’s dreading it, if he’s being totally honest, but he also can’t put it off any longer. There’s less than a month of money left to sustain the bar at full capacity, so it’s now or never.

The problem is she’s his kryptonite. Not only because she’s his best friend who knows him better than anyone with Jaehyun gone, but because she’s his biggest sacrifice in becoming his brother. 

Jennie’s the only person in his life who wasn’t also connected to Jaehyun. So, unlike his parents, family, and other loved ones who he can still maintain a relationship with as Jaehyun, he had to let her go entirely. It kills him not being able to see her or have one of their long conversations about everything and nothing. He misses her more than he can even put into words. Which is why he’s hoping his solution for Kookie’s will lead to them building a new friendship. 

After giving you a lengthy goodbye kiss, Jungkook tells you he’ll see you later and heads to the car. Kookie’s is a bit farther from the house than his apartment was, but at least it gives him more time to rethink his plan over and over. 

He hasn’t told anyone his idea yet since without Jennie’s approval, there’s no point. It’s been rolling around in his head for a couple months and although he believes it’s a great idea, he might be a little biased. 

Upon arriving at the bar, he can see Jennie inside by herself since opening isn’t for another few hours. He takes a deep breath before crossing the street, but by the time he reaches the door she’s already in the back. Rather than waiting and no doubt scaring the shit out of her when she spots him through the glass, he uses the spare key to let himself inside. 

The bell rings overhead as he enters, so he knows it’ll only be a few seconds before Jennie appears from the kitchen. He uses the time to admire the familiar decor and furniture. Nothing’s changed since he was last here, which was also the last night he ever lived as himself. Well, there is one difference: a framed picture of him hanging behind the bar. It was taken by none other than Jennie the day he bought the building. He’s absolutely cheesing next to the sold sign with the keys dangling from his pointer finger. 

The sound of footsteps pulls his attention away and it’s just in time to lock eyes with his former best friend. 

Jennie stops in her tracks with possibly the widest eyes he’s ever seen on her face. He waves and chuckles in an attempt to dispel the awkward energy, but it still takes her a moment to recover.

“I, uh, I’m sorry. I know you’re identical but I guess I just… forgot how much you look like him,” she explains. 

“It’s alright. I hear it all the time.” Her eyes are watery and it shatters Jungkook’s heart. He wants to comfort her like he used to or tell a stupid joke to make her laugh, but all he can do is stand there. “How are you?”

She humorlessly chuckles like that’s the most ridiculous question he could’ve asked.

“Oh, you know.”

Jungkook grimaces.

“Yeah. I know.”

“I’m sorry. This is obviously way harder for you than it is for me and —” 

“No. No it isn’t,” he interrupts her. “There’s no comparison in grief.” 

His assurance seems to help, even if just a little, because a faint smile forms on her lips as she nods.

“You’re right. Sometimes it just feels like I’m, I don’t know, overreacting?”

“Overreacting?” On muscle memory alone, Jungkook steps forward before remembering he shouldn’t and digging his heels into the ground. “Jennie, he was your best friend.”

She clicks her tongue while her gaze drops to the floor.

“He was more than that,” she mutters under her breath.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing, um, it isn’t important.” Whatever melancholia was hanging over her seems to be gone once she lifts her head again and crosses her arms over her chest. “So, what’s up? I mean, I know you technically own the place now, but I wasn’t expecting a visit.”

“Oh, right.” Jungkook has to give himself a quick head shake to refocus on the task at hand. “I came to talk to you, actually.”

“About what?”

He gestures to the space around them.

“The future of Kookie’s.”

They decide to sit down in a booth to chat and Jennie even pours them both a beer. Once they’re comfortably across from each other with a couple drinks in front of them, Jungkook clears his throat.

“So, Kook had about four months worth of savings in the business account. Obviously, it’s been three already. That means you and I have to decide where we want to go from here,” he announces.

Jennie’s brow scrunches.

“You and I? Isn’t it just up to you?”

“Maybe legally, but that’s certainly not what he would want. And I would never ice you out like that.” Jungkook sighs as he watches the foam float at the top of his beer. “Jennie, he…” He inhales. “Jungkook loved you.” After a moment, he realizes his statement needs clarification. “I don’t mean like that, I just…” His eyes flicker up to meet hers. “You meant the world to him.”

To me.

Sharing those sentiments might’ve been a mistake because Jennie immediately tears up again and her bottom lip starts to tremble.

“I know,” she whimpers. “I just wish I’d gotten the chance to tell him how much he meant to me.”

It’s his turn for a confused expression.

“He knew, Jen. I know he did.” 

“No. At least, not the full extent.” Jungkook’s head tilts and he’s about to ask for more information until she continues all on her own. “I loved him so fucking much. I was in love with him. I had been for almost our entire friendship.”

The world suddenly halts like a record scratching on a turnstile. Never once in the ten years he’s known Jennie did he ever suspect her to have romantic feelings for him. He thinks through all their memories together and it makes him wanna be sick. The late nights, weekend adventures, movie marathons, and study sessions. Not to mention the handful of times Jungkook used her body as a stress release without knowing it meant something entirely different to her. 

He wants to lay his head on the table and sob or maybe take Jennie’s hands so he can apologize for being such an ignorant asshole. Her confession kills him because he knows what unrequited love is like and to think he was putting his best friend through it is gut wrenching. If only he could just tell her he’s sorry and that if things were different, if he wasn’t a degenerate in love with his brother’s girl, he would’ve reciprocated without a second thought. 

The problem is he can’t do any of that because he isn’t Jungkook anymore. He can’t even let her see the guilt flood his eyes or his face fall in despair. So, he holds everything in and clears his throat again to mask the pain.

“Why didn’t you ever tell him?” Jungkook asks.

Jennie shrugs while drying her eyes with her sleeve.

“It wouldn’t have mattered. He was already in love with someone else when we met.”

His blood runs cold.

“Did you… do you know who?” When she shakes her head, Jungkook hides his massive sigh of relief. “He never mentioned anyone to me.”

“No, he probably wouldn’t have. He always kept that particular secret close to his chest,” she states before a brief awkward pause. “But, um, back to Kookie’s?”

“Right! Right. Sorry.” Jungkook forces his emotions back into the container where they reside so he can continue the conversation. He’ll sort through them afterwards when he’s alone. “Basically, I’m more than willing to finance the bar, but I can’t commit to the time and resources needed to run it. Now, if you want to, I would be happy to do that. But I also know you never signed up to be an owner and I don’t want to pressure you into staying.” He claps his hands while inhaling through his nose to prepare for the actual proposal. “So, in case you aren’t willing to run this place, I was wondering what you think about me offering it to Y/N to turn into a bakery.”

Jennie’s eyes go wide as soon as he’s done talking and Jungkook’s nerves stand at attention, but then her shocked expression gradually morphs into delight.

“Jaehyun, that’s a wonderful idea!”

“Re — really?”

She enthusiastically nods.

“It’s exactly what Kook would want.”

“You think so?” What a stupid fucking question. Like he isn’t the literal person they’re referring to. “I wasn’t sure if you would think I’m overstepping or something.”

“No, absolutely not. He adored Y/N. Seeing her dream finally come true would’ve made him so fucking happy. I mean, this place was literally named after her nickname for him.”

Jungkook allows his sigh to escape this time as a smile overtakes his lips. 

“I’m so glad you agree,” he admits. “But are you sure you’re alright with not running the bar yourself?” 

“Are you kidding? All this responsibility’s making me go prematurely grey,” she exclaims. “But if I could ask for one favor?” He nods and gestures for her to continue. “Could you ask Y/N if she’ll need help? Just because I don’t want to be in charge doesn’t mean I wanna leave this place behind, you know? And I obviously know the register and how to handle customers.”

As if this conversation could get any better. 

“Absolutely!” In fact, he was already planning on asking if she would want that. He figures if she sticks around to manage the bakery, perhaps they can grow close again as Jaehyun and Jennie. “She’s going to need all the help she can get since it’ll be impossible to bake everything and manage the storefront.”

“Have you spoken to her about this yet?” 

“No,” Jungkook answers. “I wanted to hear your opinion first.” 

Jennie smiles and for the first time today, it reaches her eyes the way it usually does. 

“I really appreciate that.”

The two of them discuss logistics for a while before Jungkook eventually excuses himself so she can finish preparing for the evening. She gives him a quick goodbye hug at the door and he has to refrain from holding her too tight, like how he used to. 

After they part, Jennie steps back and he salutes her with his two first fingers before exiting. He makes it about halfway to the crosswalk until the sound of quick footsteps coming from behind stops him and causes his eyebrows to rise.

“Wait!” 

When he turns around, Jennie’s a couple feet away and although she didn’t have to jog far to reach him, she appears winded.

“What’s up?” He casually questions.

Jennie takes in a massive influx of air while her hands shake at her sides.

“You’re not Jaehyun. Are you?”

Jungkook swears all the action around him ceases like a still life photograph. How come he made it through hours of conversation without her suspecting anything only to fail at the last second? And what the hell did he do to give her that impression?

“Wh… what?”

“You just saluted me.” She does the action herself. “The same way Kook did every time he left this place for the last three years.” 

Fuckkk. 

Goddamn muscle memory and stupid, permanently ingrained instincts. Who knew a single instant in time could possibly unravel everything. 

Honestly, there’s a piece of him that wishes he could just say yes so he can have his best friend back. But even one person knowing his secret could lead to disaster. 

So, lying through his teeth it is.

He chuckles and scoffs like her accusation’s borderline unbelievable.

“We both do it.” Jungkook repeats the salute, but this time slightly different from how he normally moves his hand. “Learned it from our grandfather.” When Jennie still looks skeptical, he throws his arms up in surrender. “I swear, Jennie. Scout’s honor.”

His oxygen remains trapped in his throat until her face finally relaxes and she shakes her head.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. You probably think I’m crazy now,” she laments.

“I don’t.” She sends him a disbelieving glance. “I promise, I don’t. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I can’t even tell who’s staring back at me.”

Her eyes sympathetically wilt, but Jungkook waves the emotion away with his hand. Albeit a little more awkwardly, they wish each other farewell again prior to him leaving for good. 

Once home, he remains in the garage so he can let his mind come to terms with the events of the evening. From Jennie’s confession to her almost figuring him out; the weight of it all is too much to bear. Before he can stop himself, his head drops to the steering wheel as he begins sobbing into the leather. 

He just wishes everything were different. In a perfect world he never would’ve fallen for you, then he and Jennie could be together and Jaehyun might still be alive. Instead, he lives in the universe where the only way he can be with the woman he loves is by pretending to be his dead twin and leaving his best friend all alone with a broken heart. 

As if he didn’t already hate himself enough for having feelings for you. Jennie deserves so much fucking better and he wonders if she’d be better off having never met him. At least then she would be spared from the pain she’s going through now and endured over the last decade. 

Jungkook has no idea how long he stays in the car bawling his eyes out, but it must be a suspicious amount of time because all of the sudden the driver’s side door flies open. 

“Jae?” When Jungkook lifts his head to face you, your eyes expand in concern and you instantly reach out to hug him. “Oh, honey.” 

He has other plans, and as soon as you’re close enough, his arms encapsulate your waist so he can tug you right into the car with him. Your back presses on the steering wheel and causes the horn to honk while your knees land on either side of his hips. But neither of you care; too preoccupied with holding one another so close you can feel the other’s heartbeat. 

As your arms wind around his neck and your fingers comb through his hair, he explores the length of your back like he’s trying to remind himself you’re real. 

“It’s okay, baby,” you whisper with your lips on the shell of his ear. “I’ve got you.” His cries only grow louder at the sound of your voice, because your endless compassion makes his own sins look so much darker in comparison. “I’m right here.”

The two of you stay like that for quite some time, but you don’t rush him in letting out all his emotions. When his cries do subside, you gently guide his head up until you can see his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. 

“What for?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. Manhandling you, I guess.” 

You smile at him with such adoration it almost halts his heart.

“You can manhandle me anytime, any place,” you assure him. 

A hint of a smile forms before Jungkook buries his face in your neck to inhale your familiar scent. It reminds him of everything good in the world, of everything he loves, and grounds him to reality. 

“I love you, Y/N.” His voice is muffled by your skin, but you still hum in acknowledgment. “I love you so much I don’t think my heart can carry it all.”

“Mmm. Maybe I can crochet you a backpack or something to put the excess in.” 

Jungkook laughs and kisses your throat before gazing at you again.

“No, I don’t think that’ll work.” 

“No?”

He shakes his head.

“I think I have to return it to you somehow,” he claims.

“Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?” 

It’s obvious you’re both on the same page, because by the time Jungkook laces his fingers through your hair to pull your face down, you’re already leaning in. Your lips meet for a messy, passionate kiss that’s all tongue and soft moans. It’s different from the other kisses you’ve shared so far and even the air around you feels charged with a new tension.

Almost immediately, you begin rolling your hips across his lap and grinding down against the tent in his pants. It causes Jungkook’s head to spin and after the day he’s had, he doesn’t have the wherewithal to stop you. 

His arm loops around your waist to assist your movements while you rest your hands on his shoulders to give yourself more leverage. The two of you continue kissing like you need it to breathe, although you’re really just panting and whimpering into each other’s mouths. 

As you pick up the pace, Jungkook’s grasp on your hair turns bruising and he starts bucking his hips up to match your rhythm. 

“Jae,” you whine between smooches. 

“Baby, I…” He groans when all the sensations become both too much and yet not enough. “I don’t wanna fuck you again for the first time in a car.”

“Then just let me make you feel good.” Jungkook tries to shake his head, but you stop him by caressing his jaw. “It’ll help, right? With whatever’s weighing you down?”

You’re staring at him too intensely to hide how much he wants this and despite his better judgement, he nods.

Without another word, you bend over to kiss his neck at the same time your hips regain their momentum. 

Jungkook’s fully aware he’s going to cream his pants embarrassingly fast. You’ve been his dream girl since he was sixteen and now you’re dry humping him in a fucking Mercedes. The thing is he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he needs some sort of release or his brain might genuinely explode. 

The feeling of your lips on his throat and your cunt rubbing against his bulge is driving him insane and it takes all his willpower not to carry you inside the house so he can fuck you like you deserve. By the time he’s done with you, you won’t remember your own name let alone which twin you’re married to. 

Alas, for now all he can do is synchronize his hips with your own so his cock catches your clit every time you press yourself into him. 

While Jungkook’s fingertips dig into your spine and scalp because he’s trying to salvage whatever’s left of his sanity, your mouth trails up his neck until you can nibble and lick along his jawline. The wet sensation elicits a moan from deep within his chest before he uses his grip on your hair to force your lips back to his. 

The kiss is sloppy enough to leave drool all over the bottom halves of your faces. But if anything, it just makes the moment that much hotter. It’s so scorching even the air feels suffocating despite the door still being wide open. 

“Fuck, I’m — I’m close, baby,” Jungkook grunts. “But I need you to come with me.”

You break the lip lock with a mischievous giggle.

“Then you better make me, Jeon.” 

Jungkook almost comes right then and there. He’s never heard you refer to Jaehyun by their surname, but shit, if it isn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever uttered. 

He manages to resist the pressure in his gut before attacking your neck with an onslaught of fiery kisses. He begins thrusting up into you as well, turning you into a whiny, wanton mess while you tug on the hair at his nape and grind down harder.  

It’s clear you’re nearing an orgasm when Jungkook feels your abdomen clench where your bodies are pressed together. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine having the opportunity to make you come, but if he thinks about it too much he’ll finish before you do. 

In all honesty, every muscle and vein in his body is working together to prevent him from letting go too soon. Even outside the physical friction you’re providing, just the idea of finally having you like this is enough to make him bust. 

Not to mention you’re moaning in his ear and Jungkook swears it’s like taking a hard drug. It makes his mind feel hazy from all the lust and pure, unadulterated need. His body’s practically acting on its own at this point because his brain is going haywire.

“Baby, please,” you whimper with a firm yank on his hair. 

He certainly doesn’t need to be told twice, and immediately licks along the side of your throat before biting down on your earlobe.

“Come for me,” he growls. 

You gasp and bury your face in his neck when your orgasm hits you. Then he topples right over the edge a second later, the movement of your body spasming in his lap sending straight into the depths of euphoria with a loud, enthusiastic moan. 

The two of you carelessly grind against one another throughout your highs as the friction from your bodies prolongs the sensation.

It might very well be the nastiest thing Jungkook’s ever done, considering the humiliating amount of cum in his boxers that gets pushed around each time you hump his lap. Yet he can’t get enough of you shaking above him as your own essence soaks through your underwear onto your pants.

By the time you both calm down, it’s as if your energy’s been sucked out by some mystical force.

“Fuck,” you chuckle, prompting him to join you. “Been a while, huh?”

Jungkook laughs again while lifting his head up to look at you.

“You could definitely say that.”

Seeing your responding smile almost recoups all his lost energy in a single instant.

“You remember the first time we did that? Back when I was still in high school?” 

Obviously not, but by god, does he wish he did. 

“Vividly,” he answers.

Your hands slide down from his shoulders to his chest as you lean in to give him another kiss. 

“We should go inside and get cleaned up. I’ll make us dinner after.” Jungkook nods. “Maybe then you can tell me why you were so upset?”

He will once he thinks of a reasonable explanation. It’s not as though he can tell you the truth about his emotions. 

“How about tomorrow? I just want to enjoy my time with you tonight.”

It’s not even remotely a lie. He craves nothing more than to take a nice, hot shower and cuddle with you on the couch. 

“Of course,” you assure him. 

You peel yourselves apart as deftly as possible in the cramped space of the front seat before you head upstairs to change while Jungkook hops in the shower. 

He avoids sparing himself a glance in the mirror afterwards, for fear he’ll see his brother glaring back at him in disgust. Sure, he didn’t actually touch you, but that doesn’t mean a line not previously crossed wasn’t just obliterated beyond repair.

When the sun rises the following day, you roll straight into his arms wearing a blissful smile. It’s easily one of the most beautiful sights Jungkook’s ever seen and it encourages him to kiss the expression right off your pretty, pink lips.

“Morning,” you whisper.

Jungkook’s too busy kissing you to reply. He’s already got a hand in your hair and the other cradles your knee so he can hook your leg around his waist. You two often wake up like this and spend the early morning hours smooching and touching each other to your heart’s content. 

It feels different today, on behalf of your behavior from the night before, but even after taking that leap yesterday, your Sunday morning make out doesn’t lead anywhere. 

“Morning, sweetheart,” he mumbles while traveling one peck at a time across your cheek. “Sleep well?”

“Mmhm.”

You giggle once Jungkook reaches your neck and begins aggressively nuzzling his face into your skin. 

After cuddling and sharing more absentminded kisses for a while, you both leave the comfort of your bed to start the day. You naturally seize the kitchen to cook breakfast while Jungkook takes care of some chores like laundry and vacuuming. 

Ironically, Jungkook’s a great cook because he lived alone for so long, but Jaehyun would burn water if he even attempted a single recipe. Meaning Jungkook has to let you tackle every meal alone to avoid raising suspicion. He’s debated on asking you to “teach” him or pretend to take cooking classes to remedy the situation. 

Following the delicious meal, you plop on the couch together with your legs resting on Jungkook’s. His hand lazily caresses your bare thigh while your fingers fiddle with his own. It’s soft and domestic, and he absolutely adores the small, mundane moments like this.

“Are you feeling better this morning?” You ask him.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Jungkook inhales and nods as his eyes focus on the repetitive movement of his hand brushing against your skin.

“It actually went great. Jennie was really excited about my idea and we worked through most of the logistics before I left,” he explains.

“So, then…”

He grins and pinches your leg, to which you squeak and slap his bicep.

“I’m getting there, nosey!” You merely throw your hands up in surrender. “Jennie told me something while I was there and it just… broke me, I guess.” 

“What was it?”

“She said she was in love with Kook, and had been for almost their entire friendship. And I don’t know, it just shattered my fucking heart. Because Kook never got to have what we have, but Jennie wanted him all this time. And now they’ll never get a chance.” 

When Jungkook glances up to see your reaction, you look like a confused puppy with your head tilted.

“Wait, you didn’t know Jennie was in love with Jungkook?”

His eyes go wide. 

“You knew?”

“Well, duh. It was obvious!” 

“To whom?” 

You giggle and roll your eyes. 

“Only the women, apparently,” you comment. “You never noticed how she looked at him? Like he was the center of her freaking universe?” 

“N — no.” 

Jennie looked at him differently? He never once registered that. Maybe because he was always too busy envying how you looked at Jaehyun. 

The fact you realized her feelings and he didn’t, despite not knowing her nearly as well, makes him want to be sick. She’s his best friend. He should’ve been paying more attention. 

“I honestly thought they were either together and for some reason Kookie didn’t want to tell us or he was just extremely obtuse. Now it’s clear it was the latter.”

All of a sudden your exemplary perception skills cause his stomach to sink. Because if you noticed Jennie’s feelings for Jungkook, is it possible you also picked up on his feelings for you? 

“She claimed she never confessed because he was in love with someone else,” Jungkook adds. “Do you know who that might’ve been?”

“Huh?” The confusion on your face eases his mind. “Kookie? In love with someone?” You shake your head. “No. Who would that even be? He never dated anyone the entire time I knew him.”

“That’s what I thought, too.”

“Wait, doesn’t that imply whoever this mystery person is didn’t love him back?”

Jungkook shrugs.

“I suppose so.”

“That makes even less sense. Jungkook was amazing and unbelievably handsome. I would know, seeing as I married someone with the same face. If he was in love with someone, I can’t see how they didn’t reciprocate,” you explain. “Besides, we know everyone in his life.”

The sheer irony of your logic almost makes Jungkook burst into hysterical laughter, or maybe bawl his eyes out. 

“Maybe Jennie was wrong?”

“That, or the person he was in love with was her and they both just danced around one another all these years.”

“That would be… tragic.”

You nod in agreement. 

“It all is, regardless of anyone’s feelings,” you lament with your eyes towards the ground. 

Jungkook spots the change in your demeanor and places two fingers under your chin to gently lift your head up.

“You know what made me feel better after I thought about it some more?” He waits for you to hum before finishing his statement. “Whether or not Kook knew, or felt the same, he was loved. By us, by Jennie, and by everyone who knew him.”

His proclamation turns your eyes into somber, sparkling oases, but there’s also a contradictory smile on your lips.

“You’re right.” Your hand rises to swipe at the corner of your eye so no tears actually fall. “He was so, so fucking loved.”

After you sniffle a couple times, Jungkook moves his hand to cradle your face and run his thumb across your cheekbone.

“Speaking of people Jungkook loved, I should probably tell you what Jennie and I talked about yesterday,” he states.

“What do you mean?” 

He clears his throat before dropping his hand and encasing one of your own. He rolls your fingers around while mentally hyping himself up, his anxiety about your reaction deterring him from speaking just yet.

“My brother adored you more than he could ever put into words. You were never just my girlfriend or wife to him, but a best friend and confidant. And he believed in you more than anyone else in the world. It was actually one of the last things we spoke about.” He takes a deep breath in preparation for his proposal. “So, because Jennie isn’t comfortable running Kookie’s alone with my financial backing, she and I agreed what Jungkook would want is for you to turn it into your very own bakery.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull, and Jungkook initially takes it as a positive sign, but then you begin vehemently shaking your head.

“No, no, no. I couldn’t. Kookie’s was his baby, I could never just… No. Absolutely not.”

“Y/N —”

“No, Jae.” 

The next thing he knows, you’re standing up and rushing towards the kitchen. 

“Baby, where are you going?”

“What if I fuck it up, huh? What if I do that and it’s a total disaster and I sully the name of Kookie’s forever?” You run your fingers through your hair with a humorless laugh. “Jungkook put his everything into that place. He worked harder than anyone I know to make it what it is. Who the hell am I to step in and turn it into something else?”

He can’t tell you the truth; that you’re who he loves most in the world, second only to his twin. 

“You’re the one person he would want to do exactly that,” Jungkook counters.

“Why don’t I just help Jennie with the bar? Then she won’t be all by herself,” you suggest.

“Sweetheart, you’re a baker, not a manager.” 

“And Kookie’s is a bar, not a bakery.” 

Your steadfast refusals make Jungkook groan and rake his hands down his face. 

“Why don’t you believe me when I say this is what Kook would want? Me and Jennie both think so!”

“Because it’s one of the last things left of him in the world, Jae!” The tears from before quickly return as your voice breaks. “We sold his apartment. His motorcycle’s under a sheet in our garage. He’s buried six feet in the ground. But that building was his and it meant everything to him. I can’t… I can’t lose any more pieces of him.” 

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the sight of you crying over him yet again. You’ve been doing so well lately, but now you’re shaking and helplessly wiping away your tears.

“Baby,” he coos while closing the gap between you. “Can’t you see this is how we prevent that from happening?” When you glance up, Jungkook cups your face in his hands. “Jennie’s running herself ragged trying to handle everything. I can’t possibly manage a massive corporation and a dive bar. But if you breathe new life into it, Kookie’s will flourish into something even more extraordinary than it already is.” 

“But what if I let him down?” 

He reassuringly smiles and shakes his head.

“That’s not possible. Even if it crashes and burns, Jungkook will be so fucking proud of you.”

“Yeah?” 

The slight hint of belief in your voice brings him more joy than he can even express, but it manifests as him pressing his forehead against your own. 

“Without a doubt,” he whispers. 

You reply with a watery giggle before rising to your tiptoes for a hug. Jungkook automatically reciprocates, enveloping your waist and tugging you as close as possible while your cheek falls onto his shoulder.

“Thank you.” After pulling away, you trail your hands down his arms until you can slot your fingers together. “But I want to ask your parents first. It wouldn’t feel right moving forward without their permission.” 

“‘Course, I think they’ll appreciate that.”

Not only is Jungkook right, but his mom begins hysterically crying because she’s so thrilled about the idea. Of course, there are still plenty of administrative details to be sorted out before moving forward. But at least everyone’s on board now, and since Kookie’s is already registered as a food establishment, switching the business license and other legal documents should be easy. 

Him and Jennie agree to permanently close Kookie’s bar in thirty days and from there the three of you will work on transforming it into Kookie’s bakery instead.  

With such a big hurdle off Jungkook’s plate, he can finally focus entirely on his new role as CEO of Jeon Industries. It’s hard to believe he’s going into his second month already. Although he’s gotten a hang of it for the most part, there’s still plenty to learn. 

It certainly doesn’t help when everyone walks on eggshells around him because they know about the recent tragedy he experienced. He appreciates people’s sympathy, but it’s hard to adjust to his new career when most employees run in the opposite direction or dance around certain questions. 

Except for one person.

For whatever reason, a young administrative assistant has gotten the bright idea that a grieving man is more prone to cheat than one who isn’t. 

She isn’t his assistant, although she works on a team of direct reports, so Jungkook can’t necessarily avoid her. He’s spoken to his actual assistant about the issue, but is still hesitant to make a big fuss when he doesn’t know the company culture yet. Since discussing it with Mr. Park, she’s been kept at an arms length by only assigning her to group projects so he can avoid one-on-one interactions. 

It’s not like she outright flirts with him or gropes him in the employee lounge, but Jungkook knows when someone’s eyeing him. Between bringing him coffee and purposely leaning across his desk to incessantly peering inside his office to ask if he needs anything, her crush on him is more than obvious. 

He knows the behavior only began after he took over because he asked Mr. Park if it was normal, under the guise of not having noticed it before, and his assistant vehemently assured him it isn’t. Not to mention, Jaehyun wrote detailed notes about his on and off the clock life and none of them mention her. 

Jungkook’s yet to broach the topic with you because he doesn’t want you to worry or overreact. There’s nothing on earth that could ever make him look at anyone but you, and he’s also hoping the situation will diffuse on its own. 

If that were his only problem, he’d honestly have a lot less headaches. Alas, he has to pretend to know what he’s doing when he’s quite literally flying by the seat of his pants. 

Thankfully, Mr. Park is brilliant and totally understands his situation. Albeit, he believes it’s because of grief and not Jungkook’s complete lack of knowledge about the corporate world. 

The only silver lining is Jungkook’s a business owner himself; he knows all about profit margins, budget cuts, and enterprise risk management. The difference is Jeon Industries is a tech company, so he’s probably the least qualified person on the planet to be running the show. Hell, the computer at his apartment was still from 2009. 

Today’s a tough one in particular. Jungkook’s already been to three meetings and the clock hasn’t even struck noon. Plus, his first quarterly board meeting is this afternoon and one of the members is his very own father. If anyone’s going to see through him, it’ll be him. 

His dad personally trained Jaehyun to follow in his footsteps. So if Jungkook isn’t the absolute pinnacle of professionalism during this meeting, it could ruin everything. 

“Mr. Park,” Jungkook calls for him with a wave about an hour before showtime. 

His assistant saunters in with practiced elegance and it immediately lifts some weight off Jungkook’s shoulders. At least if he’s off his game today, Mr. Park can step up to the plate.  

“Mr. Jeon,” he greets him.

“As I’m sure you can tell, I’m not as prepared as I normally am for this. So, if you could ensure I don’t make a complete fool of myself, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

Mr. Park smiles and bows his head. 

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for, Mr. Jeon.” There’s a moment of silence before he clears his throat. “Actually, there’s something I’d like to add. If I may?” Jungkook nods. “Well, you’ve been back for just over a month, and I know it’s been quite hectic following your absence. Hence why I didn’t mention this before. But… you know you don’t have to call me Mr. Park, right? At least, not when we’re in private.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly recovers with a head shake and soft chuckle. 

“Right. I’m so sorry, Jimin. I think I’ve been overcompensating so much these last few weeks that I completely forgot about our usual decorum.” 

Jaehyun always referred to his assistant by his surname, so Jungkook had no idea they dropped the formality when alone together.

“It’s not a problem, Jaehyun. Just figured I would let you know.” 

Honestly, the sound of his first name, well, not his original one, puts his mind at ease even more. Jungkook isn’t used to strict corporate lingo, so this is much more comfortable and familiar in comparison. 

He and Jimin go over the meeting agenda together so Jungkook feels as prepared as possible before the receptionist calls to inform him the board members have arrived. 

After entering the conference room with Jimin hot on his tail, he pauses to take a few deep breaths. His eyes scan the room until he finds the only familiar face, who smiles back at him like the proudest man in the world. 

“Long time, no see, son,” his dad greets him with a warm hug. 

“Always a pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” Jungkook responds through a lighthearted laugh. 

He proceeds to shake hands with the remaining board members prior to everyone sitting around the large table. 

The first half goes even better than expected and Jungkook believes, for maybe the first time, that he might actually pull this off. But that changes when one of the board members pipes up during a transition between topics. 

“Jaehyun, I think we should take some time to discuss your brief hiatus from the position,” they state. 

Jungkook has to control his face, since his initial thought is how that has anything to do with the meeting.

“Discuss what, exactly?” 

His eyes flash towards his father, who appears equally confused.

“Well, given the circumstances, of which deeply affected not just one, but two members of this board, I believe it’s about time we talk about business continuity.”

“Business continuity?” 

It takes a lot of freaking willpower to keep his annoyance from sneaking into the question.

“Yes. It isn’t exactly conducive to progress if we lose our CEO and head of the board for an extended period of time,” the man explains. 

Jungkook slides his hands below the table before anyone sees him ball them into fists. The sheer audacity of this man to talk about his brother’s death like it’s something impeding their business is outrageous.

“Well, chairman, I don’t believe we have to worry about that considering I don’t have any more twin brothers to lose,” Jungkook sneers, as professionally as he can. 

“Jaehyun —”

“That’s Mr. Jeon… To you.” That sure shuts him up and after an unbearably awkward silence, Jungkook clears his throat. “Shall we proceed, gentleman?”

Everyone nods and although the room is filled with tension for the remainder of the meeting, it continues without any more hiccups. 

Afterwards, while Jungkook mingles with other board members, he notices his dad pulling the problem child aside. He excuses himself to join them, but before he’s able to reach the two men, he sees his dad dig his pointer finger into the man’s lapel.

“If you ever attempt to use my son’s death as a means of furthering your own agenda again, I will see that you never work another day in this industry. Are we clear?” His father threatens. 

“That’s not —”

“No? That wasn’t a soft launch for your family taking over this company if mine were suddenly incapable?” Jungkook’s dad scoffs. “I built this place from the ground up and it will remain in my name, and my name only, until the day it goes under. I’d sooner entrust it to my brilliant daughter-in-law than the likes of you.” He takes a single, daunting step closer to the board member. “Do I make myself clear, chairman?”

“Crystal,” the man flatly replies.

He rushes past Jungkook once the conversation ends as his dad steps closer to him.

“Thank you,” Jungkook says.

“No need, son.” His dad affectionately clasps his shoulder. “You handled it perfectly. I’m very proud of you.”

Following a deep sigh, Jungkook smiles before they decide to divide and conquer the rest of the board members. 

When he arrives home later that evening, you’re still at Kookie’s drawing up floor plans for the new layout with Jennie. It’s been about two weeks since the decision, but you’ve been cruising full speed ahead to transform it into your dream business. 

Jungkook heads straight to the home office beside the master bedroom so he can finish some leftover tasks before you come home. He hates working when you’re around, since he would much rather be spending time with you. Unfortunately, he isn’t even close to being done by the time he hears the door click shut. 

“Honey?” You holler from the first floor.

You appear in the doorway of the office soon after, but Jungkook only greets you with a quick glance and a wave. 

“Sorry, baby, I was hoping to be finished already,” he explains. 

The next thing he knows, your arms are around his neck and your head’s resting atop his. It’s almost comical how much comfort it brings him, as though a physical weight ascends off his shoulders just because you’re near. 

“That’s okay.” Your hands slide down until you can grab his own and hold them to his chest. “I just hope you aren’t stressing out about everything again.”

He chuckles. 

“When do I not?”

Jungkook hears you softly hum in his ear before you drop his hands to turn his head towards you. Your lips immediately land on his and it sets his entire body alight. He pulls you into his lap as his fingers sink into your hair, giving him complete control over the kiss. 

It isn’t heated or rushed, and yet there's more passion behind this lip lock than some of your steamier make outs. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You whisper. 

He shakes his head.

“Just this.”

His mouth conquers yours again, causing you to whimper as his tongue traces the seam of your lips before pushing inside. 

You two continue to kiss for some time, neither of you paying attention to the ticking clock on the wall. Not even Jungkook, who really should be considering he has so much still left to do. 

Eventually, his looming tasks weigh down on his brain enough to pull back and rest his forehead against your own. 

“Fuck, I could do that all night long,” he tells you through a smile. “But I gotta get this done first.” 

“What is it?” 

Jungkook faces his desk again and moves the various papers around so you can see. In turn, you lay your head on his shoulder while surveying all the different files. 

“Budget approvals, board notes, project management,” he lists. “You know, the usual.”

“That’s a lot, baby,” you counter. 

“Yeah, but it could be worse.”

“Are you sure you don’t need something to help you destress? I mean, you could be at this all night.” 

“What do you have in mind?” He thinks it’s a completely innocuous question, but rather than responding, you slide off his lap and onto your knees in front of him. “Woah, woah, wait.”

His eyes almost bulge out of his head as he grabs your forearms to stop you.

“What’s wrong?” 

You’re glancing up at him with the prettiest, shiniest eyes he’s ever seen and he swears his dick’s already rock hard just by looking at you. 

“Baby, you… you don’t have to do that.”

Your face of confusion tells him everything he needs to know before you even reply.

“But I want to,” you argue. “I haven’t tasted you in months. It’s killing me, to be honest.” 

Jungkook damn near whines out loud. He even has to let go of your arms so you don’t feel his hands shaking. He’s dreamed of having you in this exact position for well over a decade and he knows he isn’t strong enough to resist when you’re practically begging him.

This is also the moment of truth, because although he’s seen you naked plenty of times now, he’s been careful to only let you see him shirtless. Therefore, if for whatever reason he isn’t an exact match to Jaehyun, shit will genuinely hit the fan. 

“I know, but I don’t know if I’m ready to reciprocate just yet,” he claims. 

“That’s fine. It’s not a tit for tat thing.” Your hands slide up his legs and Jungkook automatically shutters. “Besides, that mouth of yours is always worth the wait.”

Shit, it’s good to know his brother was a munch. Then you won’t be suspicious when Jungkook eats you out for hours on end like he plans to the first time he gets a chance. 

The feeling of your fingers running up and down his inners thighs is like medieval torture. You look so damn pretty with those plush lips and rosy cheeks, and he doesn’t know how to say no to that face. He doesn’t want to say no.

There’s no reason to, right? For all intents and purposes, he is Jaehyun, and if this is going to last a lifetime, he has to stop being such a coward about intimacy.

He takes a deep breath while observing your seductive expression in order to memorize the sight. It’d be a crime if he weren’t able to recall exactly how you looked before he felt your lips around him for the first time. 

“Okay.”

His approval makes your eyes flicker alive and Jungkook naturally holds his breath as your hands roam to undo his belt. He lifts his hips so you can roll his slacks down, but the sound of his belt buckle meeting the floor sets off his entire nervous system. 

The problem is you’ve been giving Jaehyun head since you were a teenager, but this is a novel experience for Jungkook and he’s terrified his reaction will give him away. Especially considering he probably won’t last more than a couple minutes, if that. Not when it’s you who’ll be sucking him off. 

Clearly, he isn’t doing very well at shielding his anxiety because you pause and glance up just before your fingers graze his bulge.

“Honey, you're shaking.”

“Ye… yeah.”

“I don’t have to do this,” you note. “It’s supposed to help you relax, not the opposite.”

Jungkook mindlessly nods while racking his brain for a reasonable response. In truth, his head feels completely empty at the moment.

“I know, baby. And I really, really want you to. I just, I don’t know…” 

“Look, just take a nice, deep breath.” You inhale so he’ll follow suit. “And don’t focus on anything but me, okay?”

Unfortunately, that’s the problem. 

He takes your advice in part, though, and decides to focus on the sensations instead; how your hands feel on his legs and the way your breath tickles his skin. 

“As if I could ever think about anything else,” he teases to lighten the mood. 

His comment elicits a show stopping smile, but Jungkook doesn’t get to witness it for long because you quickly bend over to place a kiss on his twitching cock. Even through the fabric it feels like a lightning bolt down his spine and he nearly jumps from his seat as his hands ball into fists. 

You snicker while continuing to kiss him over his boxers. It turns Jungkook into a whiny mess, but his temperament seems to be encouraging because you lay your tongue out and glide it along the outline of his shaft. 

“Oh, fu — fuck, baby.” 

Jungkook’s head tips back in ecstasy, which is pretty embarrassing when you haven’t even touched him yet. He could honestly come from this alone, and he’s sure you can tell. So, he implements every ounce of strength he has to keep himself in check. 

Your mouth’s already driving him crazy, but nothing could prepare him for you hooking your fingers into his waistband and tugging his boxers to the floor. 

He sucks in a sharp breath of anticipation as he awaits your possible negative reaction, but you simply hum and slide your hands back up his legs, allowing him to exhale in relief. 

“God, I missed you,” you mumble under your breath before wrapping your fingers around his cock. 

Jungkook almost loses his goddamn marbles from that single touch alone. The sensation of your soft, delicate digits on his skin is incomprehensible and he can only imagine how amazing your mouth will feel. 

He doesn’t have to wait much longer to find out because following a couple languid strokes, you begin kissing and licking his tip. 

You moan over the taste of his precum while circling your tongue across his head. He’s been leaking since you two first kissed and you’re making quick work of swallowing it all. 

Jungkook doesn’t dare lift his head to watch in fear of busting right then and there. Just knowing you’re tasting him for the first time is enough to send his mind spiraling, not to mention actually feeling your tongue on his skin. 

After some time of you slowly jacking him off and teasing his tip, you start suckling on his head with feather light pressure. It’s worse than a death by a thousand cuts, and Jungkook whimpers as one of his hands encapsulates your own on his thigh.

“Sweetheart, pl — please.”

When you giggle, the vibrations shoot down his dick and make him groan like you’ve mortally wounded him.

“If you want me to suck your dick, you gotta watch me do it,” you taunt. 

Lord have mercy.

Jungkook obeys regardless of the danger, and of course, seeing you mere centimeters away from his cock with your hand wrapped around his base almost stops his heart. 

“Oh, my baby,” he sighs. 

On instinct, his opposite hand rises to pet your hair and tuck some behind your ear, letting him fully admire your pretty face and swollen lips. 

You innocently blink up at him like you aren’t holding his sanity in your palm. He wishes he had a camera to capture the moment forever, but he settles on maintaining eye contact until you sever it by licking his shaft from base to tip. 

The wet friction causes him to brutally cry out and he’s forced to squeeze his eyes shut to stay calm. You don’t stop, either, despite your warning about him watching you work. Instead, you repeat the same motion over and over until his whole cock is shiny with saliva. 

“You taste so good, Jae.”

“Fuck.” His chest is rising and falling like he just took a shot of pure adrenaline. “Keep… keep going. Please.”

Jungkook can’t stop his thighs or hands from trembling, but he manages to open his eyes in time to witness you taking his head inside your mouth again. Unlike before, you don’t spend time teasing him and immediately guide him deeper down your throat. 

With every inch you swallow, Jungkook feels his rational slipping further away and his nonsensical noises of pleasure grow even louder. His grip on your scalp also tightens to the point your hair naturally knots around his fingers.

You hum at the sensation as your head continues to descend until your nose is buried in his pubic hair. Once there, you hold still and swallow a couple times so your throat constricts around him. Jungkook gasps and yanks on your hair in response, all while his neck cranes back yet again. 

“Shit, that feels so fucking good.”

His praises must be good motivation because before Jungkook can even wrap his mind around you actually doing this, you begin bobbing at an ambitious pace. 

Gone is any playfulness as you hollow your cheeks and repeatedly envelope his length with expert precision. Each time you complete a lap, you make sure his entire shaft sinks down your throat. You’re also still humming with your tongue pressed against the underside of his dick so it’s perfectly wet and sloppy. 

Speaking of, the sound of his cock moving in and out of your mouth is obscene, especially in combination with his endless panting and moaning. But it doesn’t seem to phase you in the slightest while you breathe through your nose and continue without reprieve. 

Jungkook’s been given his fair share of blowjobs, and even without considering this is something he’s yearned for since he was a teenager, it’s easily the best one he’s ever received. 

Not only is your mouth unbelievably warm and soft, but you know exactly how to keep your lips in a taught circle. Couple that with the tightness of your throat and friction from your tongue, and he’s already a goner. 

This must just be the skillset one acquires after sucking the same dick for fifteen years. 

“Y/N… sweetheart… holy fucking shit.” 

His words may be aimless and partially slurred from how drunk he is off the euphoria you’re providing, but it spurs you on. As soon as he finishes rambling, your head speeds up and you start swirling your tongue around the ridge of his cock every time you reach his tip. 

The new wave of effort sends Jungkook into a tailspin. Both his hands ferociously clench and his teeth grind together with a strained grunt. It feels so amazing he can’t comprehend reality anymore and he knows if he glances down at you, he’ll bust. 

“God — ah, fuck.” 

He’s not even sure how long you’ve been sucking him off; time seems to be simultaneously moving at light speed and standing totally still.

An intense vibration rolls down his shaft when you moan over his senseless praises. Afterwards, you slow down by using the tip of your tongue to trace his thick, pulsing veins and lap up the precum on his slit. 

“Come for me, baby,” you beg between licks. “Make me choke.”

“Oh, sweet Jesus.”

Alright. Time to hold a seance with his brother so he can explain how his sweet, lovely wife ended up with such a filthy fucking mouth. 

Not that Jungkook minds, but his poor balls that are unbearably heavy from how badly he needs to come are demanding an answer. 

You bring him between your lips again with a snicker, sheathing his entire cock deep inside your esophagus. When the action makes you gag and choke, Jungkook whines as his fingernails scratch your scalp. Besides the sound itself turning him on, the sensation of your throat tightening is ethereal. 

It certainly doesn’t take him long to heed your demand. Not when you’re harmoniously bobbing and sucking like your only job all these years was giving head. 

“Y/N, I’m gonna…” The mere hint that he’s close makes you work even harder to break him off, nearly shattering his subconscious in the process. “Holy shit, baby!” 

He squeezes his eyes shut again while using your hair to ground himself. As if anything could possibly save him now. 

When he comes, it’s with an exuberant, broken scream as his thighs shake and his balls pump semen into your mouth. His dick twitches erratically where it’s buried down your throat, but you stay still so you can swallow every last drop. 

Jungkook practically wails in ecstasy while you suck and lick along his shaft until he’s completely spent. In fact, he’s so delirious by the time his orgasm ends he doesn’t even register you pulling back with a wet pop. 

“Jae?” You call when he doesn’t budge for a full thirty seconds.

“I’m… okay…”

His current state causes you to giggle.

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel like she did a good job.”

He chuckles, although it’s weak.

“I’m not even trying, sweetheart. I just can’t fucking think right now.”

You rise from your knees before gently tugging his chin down so your eyes meet. 

“That good, huh?” Jungkook slowly nods with a glassy, faraway gleam. “I’m pleasantly surprised. Most of the time I can’t make you come from oral alone.” 

Damn, Jae, didn’t realize you had the stamina of a fucking ox. 

Then again, maybe Jungkook would have the same ability if he’d been getting his dick sucked like that since he was sixteen. Lucky bastard.

“It’s been a while,” he defends.

“Worth the wait?”

Jungkook enthusiastically nods.

“You have no fucking idea.”

His response produces another laugh from you as you bend down to kiss him. 

With him obviously less stressed post-orgasm, you leave him alone with his work so you can start dinner. It takes Jungkook a few minutes to get his head back in the right place for completing all his tasks, but after another hour or so, he files the paperwork away in his briefcase.

Once his work’s done, he spends some time digesting what actually happened. He still can't quite grasp the reality of your lips wrapping around his cock or you swallowing his cum like your favorite drink. Logically, he knows you believe you’ve done so countless times as his wife, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to compute. 

He also feels a little sick to his stomach, because every time his eyes close he pictures his twin looking at him in disgust. 

Jungkook understands how wrong this all is, but he can’t bring himself to regret his decision. Not when he can see how happy you are. If he hadn’t taken Jaehyun’s place, there’s no possibility of that being true today. 

He just has to remind himself he didn’t do this to get you on your knees. He did it to protect you; to keep you from experiencing the utter torture of losing the man you love. That’s not to say Jungkook isn’t also reaping the benefits of his choices, but whatever positive consequences there are, they aren’t purposeful.

Said benefits only escalate following that evening. Not only because Jungkook’s gradually becoming more comfortable being intimate with you, but due to the increased difficulty of resisting you.

Like this morning, when he wakes up to find you in the skimpiest tank top and short-shorts known to man. At the exact moment he reaches the kitchen, you happen to bend over to pull your treats out of the oven, giving him a perfect view of the light pink, silky fabric riding up and showing off your ass. 

Jungkook genuinely has to bite his fist to keep himself from moaning aloud, but it doesn’t prevent his eyes from rolling back. If he had less moral fortitude, he would slam the oven shut and take you right here and now. Alas, he isn’t an animal, no matter how much you make him feel like one sometimes. 

“Morning, baby,” you chirp after setting the tray down and turning in his direction. “Sleep well?” 

“Mmhm,” he responds through tight lips. When your eyebrows rise in evident suspicion, he fakes a cough. “Sorry, uh, you’re just…” After a second, he decides to simply concede with a laugh and disbelieving head shake. “You’re just so goddamn sexy, baby.” 

“Oh? You don’t say?”

You’re sporting a sly smirk which tells Jungkook you were expecting that reaction and he suddenly gawks at your trickery

“Wait a second. Is this little ensemble on purpose?” 

You shrug and giggle to yourself before turning around to place the freshly baked desserts on a cooling rack so you can move the second batch into the oven. 

The realization you’re actually trying to seduce him almost knocks him onto his ass. For starters, it’s not even remotely necessary, but secondly, you should never feel a need to do so. He’s supposed to be your husband, and if you’re unaware of exactly how much he craves you, then it’s his job to show you.

Hence him stepping forward so when you face him again, he can snatch your waist and effortlessly lift you onto the counter. 

“Woah!” His actions leave you giggling with a faint pink blush on your cheeks. “What do you think you’re doing, Mr. Jeon?”

Jungkook snickers while kissing along your neck and exposed shoulder.

“Well, Mrs. Jeon, I’m putting this pretty outfit of yours to good use.”

As his lips travel across your skin, his hands trail up your inner thighs so he can pry your legs apart and stand in the open space. From there, he inches his fingers upwards until he can feel the heat radiating from your core. 

“And how do you plan to — mmph.”

He silences you with a searing, messy kiss; his tongue slipping inside your mouth and swirling around until you whimper.

“Like this,” he whispers against your lips.

Not even a second later, he thrusts his two middle fingers into your cunt before silencing your zealous moan with his mouth. 

One would assume you’re who will receive the most pleasure from his behavior, but Jungkook’s moan is almost louder than yours. He can’t help it when he’s finally feeling the inside of your pussy for the first time. You’re just as warm, soft, and tight as he always imagined and the sensation of your walls clamping down on his digits is already driving him insane. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Jungkook begins curling his fingers so he can explore all of you, and especially find the spots that make you tick. “I almost forgot how amazing you feel.”

You hum between smooches.

“Then maybe don’t wait so long next time,” you tease.

When he smirks at your remark, it momentarily severs your kiss. 

“Oh, it won’t ever happen again. I promise you.”

With that, he forces his fingers deeper inside you and starts pumping them at a rapid pace. The change in tempo makes you gasp and whine as your head drops to his shoulder. Your hands also rise from the countertop so you can hold onto his biceps for dear life. 

You’re not the only one slowly losing it, because Jungkook can barely think straight. Of course, he can’t. Your walls are relentlessly pulsing and every inch of you feels like heaven to touch. Not to mention how reactive you are. Every time he pushes his digits in and makes a come hither motion, you moan directly into his ear. 

If it’s this amazing with his fingers inside you, he doesn’t even wanna think about how wonderful it’ll feel to have your velvety cunt wrapped around his cock. 

Jungkook isn’t the type to focus on his own pleasure, so as much as he wants to stay buried in you forever, he pulls his hand back to massage your clit instead. You immediately cry out and dig your nails into his skin, the taught circles he’s drawing leaving you desperate for an anchor. 

You’re so wet it’s almost too easy, but he still glides his fingers through your folds every so often to gather your arousal. 

“Ja… Jae,” you whimper when he applies more pressure.

“That feel good, baby?” Rather than answering, you keen. “You like it when I stretch you apart with my fingers, huh?” 

“Please.”

“Please, what?” 

His opposite hand tips your chin up so he can see your eyes, which are watery from the intense pleasure he’s providing. 

“Don’t stop.” 

A sinister smile appears as he mocks you with a head tilt.

“What was that, sweetheart?” He instantly retracts his hand and you whine even louder. “Tell me what you want.”

“Jae —”

“Nuh uh. I didn’t ask what my name was.” Jungkook squishes your cheeks to purse your lips. “Tell. Me. What. You. Want.”

When he releases your face, your mouth ends up forming a natural pout. He has no idea if Jaehyun ever teased you during sex, but he loves how cute you look when you beg. 

“Please, baby, I want you to fuck me.”

Jungkook doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to hearing such dirty words fall from your mouth. 

“Yeah? You mean like this?” 

Only his fingertips return to your core as he teases you by lightly tracing your slit, causing you to arch into him and whimper.

“No.” You melodramatically shake your head. “I need more.”

“More?” When his thumb just barely grazes your clit, your whole body lurches forward. “You’re so sensitive, baby.”

“That’s because I need you so fucking bad.”

It genuinely seems like you’ll start crying if he continues, so as much as Jungkook’s enjoying this, he wants you to feel good more than anything else. 

“You need my fingers?” 

He thrusts his middle digits back inside while keeping his thumb on your clit to give you multiple points of friction. 

“Mmhm.”

“And what do you want me to do with them?” Before you can answer, he spreads them apart to stretch your hole even more. “Something like this?” You aggressively nod and it makes Jungkook snicker in satisfaction. “Alright. I’ll take care of my pretty little wife.”

After alternating a couple times between slowly curling and scissoring again, he adds a third finger and marries the pace with his thumb. 

Each time he pushes into you, both a wet squelch and breathy moan floods the air between your faces. Jungkook eventually kisses you so he can drink up every noise you make, but he could listen to you whimper and pant forever if you let him.

It’s hard to focus on the dual movements of his hand and mouth, not necessarily because of the multitasking aspect, but because his brain always goes blank when he touches you. 

He still can’t get over how soft your pussy feels or how warm your mouth is against his own. You’re a real life dream wrapped up in pretty, pink silk that he wants to shred with his bare hands. But this is enough for now; watching you writhe on the counter because of what he's doing to you. 

Just then, the oven timer goes off and you immediately attempt to pull back. 

“Baby,” you mumble into the kiss. “The cookies.” 

“Not until you come for me,” he orders while gripping your face tighter to keep you still. 

His fingers move with even more fervor, causing your moans to grow in volume and pitch. You’re practically yelping into his mouth and it makes Jungkook’s head spin with desire. 

“Fuck, right there.”

“Go on, baby. Make a mess for me.”

You enthusiastically whine when your body tenses and your pussy releases all over his fingers. It’s immaculate, to say the very least, experiencing your walls constrict before totally relaxing again. They become even more swollen and slick after, sending Jungkook’s eyes into his cranium. He honestly believes he could come just from feeling you do so.

“Jae,” you cry as your entire frame shakes against him.

“I know, I know.” 

He continues to fuck you through the orgasm while gently nipping at your lips. His soft kisses are the complete opposite from how he’s spooning essence out of you and using it to rub your clit. It’s the perfect dichotomy between love and lust that he’s certain is only prolonging your euphoria.

Just before pulling his hand away from your core, he lets go of your face so he can fumble around the counter for the pot holder. Once found, he uses one hand to open the oven and yank the treats out so they don’t burn. He then kicks the door shut and flips the heat off in one smooth motion.

As soon as he leaves your cunt empty, you grumble in disappointment while another pout appears on your lips. 

Jungkook giggles at the adorable sight before giving you a quick peck and lifting his hand so he can lick his digits clean. The very instant he experiences his initial taste of you, he groans so loud it vibrates his chest and his eyes close out of pure bliss. 

“Fuck,” he grunts around his fingers. “S’fucking delicious.”

He isn’t even close to being done enjoying your sweetness when you tug his hand towards your own mouth and wrap your lips around his first three fingers. Jungkook’s eyes fly open because of your sudden boldness, but they quickly turn heavy as he watches you suck your cum off him. 

“Like what you see?” You ask after releasing his digits so you can lick his palm instead. 

“Christ, Y/N. You’re gonna make me bust without even touching me.”

You giggle and drop his hand with a final swirl of your tongue around his thumb. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Ah, so he and his twin were both entirely helpless before you. 

Jungkook kisses you again in lieu of a response, mostly because he doesn’t know another way to express how utterly obsessed with you he is. You two proceed to make out for a gluttonous amount of time; far too enamored with one another to stop despite the smell of fresh baked goods wafting in the air. 

Eventually, you manage to separate long enough for Jungkook to help you off the counter so you can check on your creations. 

“Not too burnt, I hope?”

“Nope! All thanks to your little trick.” You wink at him before flipping over the macarons to inspect them. “Little crispy, but nothing I can’t fix. I’m just recipe testing, anyway.”

“How’s the menu coming along?” 

You rest your back against the opposite counter so you’re facing each other.

“Pretty good. I’ll have all my staples down once I nail this recipe.” Without looking, you twist one arm behind you to grab a treat. “I also decided to name each one after our friends and family.”

“Oh?” 

“They’re based on everyone’s favorite recipe of mine. So I’ve got Jungkook’s chocolate chip cookies, Jaehyun’s blueberry scones, Jennie’s banana cream tarts, Y/N’s vanilla cupcakes, my mom’s dark chocolate fudge brownies, my dad’s coffee cake, your dad’s strawberry strudel, and these are your mom’s red velvet macarons.” 

“Wow, sweetheart,” Jungkook cheers. “You’re moving right along.” 

“Oh, yeah. This bakery’s going to be legendary!” You toss a cookie at Jungkook this time. “And I’ll be taste testing so many desserts I’ll probably double in size before the new year.” 

He snorts.

“Yeah. Sure you will, Cupcake.” Jungkook turns around to grab a drink from the fridge following his comment, so he doesn’t witness all your features expanding in shock. It isn’t until he faces you again that he sees your expression. “What’s with the face?”

“You just called me Cupcake, Jae.”

Although Jungkook’s heart sinks into his stomach, he plays pretend by scrunching up his face.

“No, I didn’t.” 

“Yes, you did.”

“You probably just heard me wrong. Sweetheart sounds pretty similar.”

No, it doesn’t, you flippin’ idiot.

As expected, you disagreeably shake your head. 

“No way. I know what I heard. I’ll never forget what that sounds like.”

Alright, onto plan B. Play dumb. 

“Well… maybe I did? I don’t know. I can’t remember. But it must have been a Freudian slip or something.” 

That makes sense, right? You just mentioned the word a moment prior so it would still be fresh in his head. 

Thankfully, you nod.

“For sure. It just surprised me, that's all,” you explain. “I miss hearing it so much. I found this video from our vacation to the States a few years ago and you hear Kookie call me that a couple times. I watch it on bad days.”

“You still have bad days?” You nod again, albeit much more solemnly. It’s a silly question considering he still has them, too. Both of you probably always will, but that’s why having one another to lean on is so important. “Will you show me?” 

With utmost enthusiasm, you whip out your phone and join him on the opposite side of the kitchen. You turn the device horizontally after finding the video in question, which has a little star to show it’s one of your favorites. 

When the video initially begins, you and Jaehyun are staring into the camera while setting it up. Then his face turns towards you with a soft, adoring smile because you’re still obsessively tweaking the angle until it’s just right. 

“Why are we doing this again?” He asks without ever breaking his ardent gaze.

You twist your head to answer him.

“So we can take photos together. We’ll pose in front of this and then screenshot the ones we like,” you explain. 

Jaehyun’s mouth forms an O of realization before he steals a smooch just as Jungkook walks into frame.

“And what are the lovebirds up to?” He calls from the kitchen behind you and Jaehyun.

It feels weird seeing him and his brother on screen together. Sometimes he forgets there were originally two of them. He wasn’t always alone. There was a time not too long ago when he was truly happy and whole. 

“Setting up the camera,” Jaehyun answers him in the video. “Also Y/N made pancakes, but someone slept through breakfast.”

On screen, Jungkook’s mouth drops open before he scurries over to you both.

“You’re kidding,” he huffs. “Cupcake! How could you betray me like this?”

Your eyes crinkle in the corners when you giggle at his antics and even through the phone, Jungkook can feel your joy.

“Well, I know how you love your sleep,” you defend yourself.

He scoffs and theatrically crosses his arms. 

“Yeah, well, I love you and you’re baking much more.” You send him an affectionate eye roll as Jaehyun strolls out of frame, but you can still see your interconnected hands refusing to part until the very last moment. “Will you make some for me?”

“What? It’s almost lunchtime.”

“Please, Cupcake?” Jungkook’s sporting both the biggest puppy eyes imaginable and a deep pout. “For your favorite brother-in-law in the whole wide world?”

“You’re my only —”

“Oop! Still your favorite.”

A good ten seconds passes with Jungkook’s past self waiting in eager anticipation for you to fold. Which you do following an adorable giggle.

“Fine, fine,” you concede. “Because you’re my favorite, I suppose I must.”

Jungkook’s bellowing, proud laugh echoes through the phone as he follows you into the kitchen right before the video ends. 

Once the screen goes dark, a tandem sniffle breaks the silence. You and Jungkook each turn your heads and unsurprisingly, find matching bittersweet expressions that you chuckle over together. 

“He was such a little shit,” Jungkook states while swiping at a stray tear. 

“Yeah, but he was my little shit.” You dry your eyes as well before pocketing your phone and facing him. “Not a single day goes by that I don’t think of him.”

He warmly smiles and tucks some hair behind your ear.

“Me, too.” His fingers trail down until he can cup your jaw. “You wanna talk to him? He’s getting antsy in here.”

Hearing you giggle at his question makes everything feel worth it. Jungkook could listen to your laugh on repeat and still never get sick of it. 

“No, just tell him to keep his voice down. I don’t need any more surprise ‘Cupcakes’ breaking my heart without warning.” 

Jungkook nods and bends down to give you a brief peck. 

“I’ll let him know,” he tells you. 

You proceed to finish up your recipe testing while Jungkook works on the administrative paperwork involved in changing the bar into a bakery. Next month renovations begin, so you two will be a lot busier overseeing everything.

He’s still busy at work, too. Following the board meeting, even more projects and approvals land on his desk until he's practically drowning in files. Being at home smelling whatever dessert you’re currently perfecting would be so much nicer. Alas, he’ll be stuck in this stuffy office for the next thirty or so years. 

At least there’s good coffee in the employee lounge and he can escape his duties to pour himself a cup. He’s only just set his Jeon Industries mug on the counter to grab a snack from the staff pile when he hears someone filling their own cup behind him. 

His head whips around in an instant because he knows there wasn’t enough left for more than one cup. Sure, he was going to start another pot after, but now he’ll have to wait. 

Except once he faces the fellow employee, he realizes it’s the last person he ever wants to encounter. The young admin assistant who’s borderline obsessed with him is standing barely a foot away and she steps even closer to offer him the full mug.

“Here you go, Mr. Jeon,” she chirps. “I figured you could use a hand since you’re so busy all the time.” 

“That’s not necessary, Mrs. Kim,” he flatly responds.

“Ms.” 

Jungkook knows this, but he purposely uses the wrong honorific in hopes it’ll pose as a reminder that he has a missus himself.

“Right.” As smoothly as possible, he side steps around her to create some distance. “I appreciate the gesture, but I’m more than capable of pouring my own coffee.”

“Oh, I know.” Unfortunately, she follows him over to the counter where he’s readying another pot. “But you have so much on your plate already. It’s the least any of us can do to help out.” His blood runs cold when he feels her fingers on his bicep. “Especially considering what you’ve been through.”

He shakes her hand off like it burns before sliding away towards the fridge, and luckily, she doesn’t encroach this time.

“I’m doing just fine, Ms. Kim,” he declares. 

She’s sporting an over exaggerated frown now and although she probably believes she looks adorable, Jungkook wants to yack.

“Well, the whole team is always available if you need anything, even just someone to listen.”

The whole team. Right. 

“I’m very blessed to have a wife who listens to me whenever I need it.” The young woman’s face contorts with deep green envy and it actually makes him feel a little better. She could use a good knock down a couple pegs. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Wait, what about the coffee?” 

The drink still lies in her hands which are outstretched between them and Jungkook’s almost tempted to accept it so he doesn’t have to wait another fifteen minutes. But he also refuses to give off the impression he enjoys her advances.

“No need. I’ll just have Mr. Park bring me one.” 

With that, he bolts from the room as professionally as possible.

He breathes a sigh of relief upon removing himself from the situation. It’s been a while since he’s had to deal with her one-on-one because of Jimin’s clever workarounds, so he isn’t used to fending her off. 

She seems to be growing bolder, and he wonders if it’s about time to tell you about the situation. It would be disastrous if something happens and then it seems as though he was hiding it from you.  

When Jungkook arrives home for the evening, you’re in the kitchen with a romcom on in the background like usual. It’s clear you hear him enter because you throw out a, “Hi, honey!” without looking away from the dough you’re rolling.

Unfortunately for you, Jungkook refuses to be without your attention for even a single second. So, he strolls up behind you so he can engulf your waist and tug you into his chest. 

He immediately begins peppering your neck and profile with kisses while you giggle and squeal in delight.

“Baby!” 

“Oh, I love you so much,” he growls into your skin. “My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

“My hands are covered in dough, Jae,” you warn him.

Jungkook merely snickers and trails his lips back down your throat. 

“Then cover me in it, too, while you’re at it.” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting following that comment, but it isn’t you spinning around in his arms to push your hands into his face. “Ack!”

You cackle relentlessly as you spread the sticky ingredient all over, including getting plenty inside his mouth. 

“You mean like this?”

“Jesus… baby… I concede! Have mercy!” 

Once your hands fall away, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to snatch your waist again and rub his face against your own to transfer some dough onto you. You quickly screech and shove him away, but he’s already mirroring your mischievous laughter from a moment ago.

“Meanie,” you pout while wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“You started it!”

Like the mature adult you are, you stick your tongue out at him. Yet you also hand over a rag so he can clean up his own face. 

“Did it at least taste good?”

Jungkook snickers at your priorities.

“Delicious as ever, sweetheart,” he assures you.

A comfortable silence moves through the room after Jungkook tosses the towel beside the sink and you return to your creation. 

It’s honestly fantastic witnessing your magic. You always look so calm and content when you’re baking. Sometimes he’ll just sit across from you on one of the bar stools with a lovesick grin on his face. 

In fact, Jungkook gets so lost in admiring you he misses the start of your next sentence.

“… so we should go this weekend.” 

Upon realizing he zoned out, he shakes his head. 

“Sorry?” 

You chuckle.

“I said, with renovations starting soon we won’t have much free time, and we haven’t gone ice skating yet this year. So, we should go this weekend,” you explain. 

Ice skating, also known as your and Jaehyun’s favorite winter pastime. You’re both excellent at the sport, since you learned as a child and proceeded to teach Jaehyun. Jungkook was offered lessons multiple times, but never accepted for fear of falling for you even more during your one-on-one time. 

Now the decision’s biting him in the ass because his lack of skill will instantly give him away. He could decline with the excuse of not feeling it this year, given the circumstances, but he knows you’d benefit from some normalcy. Plus, ice skating in particular always makes you happy. 

He’ll just have to find a solution this time and then get private lessons so he’s ready for next year. 

“Sure, baby. Sounds like a plan.”

Now all that’s left is to actually think of a plan.

By Saturday morning, he decides to fake an injury once you arrive at the ice skating rink. That way you can still partake in your favorite activity while he watches safe and sound from the sidelines. 

His acting debut begins the moment you two kiss goodbye so you can each change into your skates in the gendered locker rooms. Jungkook waits with one skate on until he receives a text stating you’re ready. From there, he limps into the arena, aided by the disproportionate weight of the single skate. 

When you spot him exiting the locker room, your eyes widen and you scurry over as fast as you can in skates.

“Honey! What happened?” 

You look so distraught over him being in pain he almost forgets the whole thing in lieu of some lame excuse for the loss of his previously honed skills. 

“I took a tumble trying to walk and chew gum at the same time,” he jokes. 

A half scoff, half chuckle leaves you while guiding him into a seat.

“Are you alright?”

“It hurts, but it’s nothing some rest won’t fix. I twisted it, that’s all.” 

“Well, we should go home and —” 

“What? No. You should still go out there. We came all this way, you’re already wearing your skates, and it’s your favorite sport.” He cradles your cheek with a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, baby. I’ll have just as much fun admiring you from right here.”

“Jae,” you whine.

“Nuh uh. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

He kisses away your pout before you reluctantly agree and help him elevate his “bad” leg. You attempt to stay a little longer, but he gives your ass a nice, firm spank and demands you go have fun already. 

You do as he says, but not without teasing him about staying put on your way into the rink. 

Jungkook’s never actually witnessed you skate, but boy, is it a sight to behold. As you are with everything, the second your blades hit the ice, you look so graceful you could be a professional. And besides your evident talent, you’re sporting the most gorgeous, joyful grin he’s seen on your face in a long time. 

You steal his attention with an endearing wave during your first lap and he eagerly returns the gesture. 

There’s nothing he cherishes more than seeing you like this, and it’s a reminder of why he chose to live out the rest of his life as his brother. To keep that beautiful smile right where it belongs. 

After about an hour of skating in your own little world, along with multiple visits to the railing near Jungkook, you exit the ice with a winded, but content expression.

“Woo, I might be out of practice,” you claim.

“Look who’s talking,” Jungkook counters while pointing at his ankle.

You laugh and bend down to remove your skates before offering your hands to help him stand. He’s already taken off his singular skate, but continues the ruse by limping alongside you en route to the car. 

“I hope you still had fun, even from the sidelines,” you tell him during your walk through the parking lot.

“Of course, I did, sweetheart. I love watching you enjoy yourself.” He disappointedly clicks his tongue. “I am sorry I wasn’t out there with you, though. I know it’s our thing, but I hope you still managed to have a good time.”

Before you’re able to answer, an interruption in the form of someone calling for him ceases the conversation. 

“Mr. Jeon!” 

Even without turning around, Jungkook knows who’s hollering, and his stomach sinks. 

Your hands are currently intertwined, so when you pivot to locate the source, it forces him to follow suit even though that’s the last thing he wants. If he were alone, he would just pretend he didn’t hear anything.

“Hi, Mr. Jeon,” Ms. Kim repeats once she’s closer. “Fancing meeting you here.” 

Jungkook chuckles awkwardly, which causes you to glance in his direction with an arched eyebrow. 

“That it is,” he cordially responds. “Sweetheart, this is one of our admins, Mrs. Kim, and —” 

“Oh, it’s Ms.”

The unnecessary interruption leaves Jungkook gritting his teeth as your second brow rises to meet the other. 

“Right. Ms. Kim, this is my wife, Y/N.”

You outstretch your hand and open your mouth to greet her, but she beats you to the punch with an aggressive hand shake. 

“It’s so lovely to meet you, Mrs. Jeon. I’ve only heard wonderful things.”

“Well, I sure hope so,” you chuckle, although it’s hollower than normal. 

“What brings you two here?” 

He would do literally anything to end this conversation, but not if it’ll make you any more suspicious. 

“Uh, it’s kind of our thing,” he answers. 

“Really? It’s my sister and I’s as well. We come every year.”

“That’s so sweet,” you interject. 

In an act so obvious Jungkook’s eyes almost bulge from his head, she completely ignores your statement by pivoting her body so she’s directly facing him and him alone.

“You know, maybe we could do a work event here. You and I could teach everyone else how to skate,” she proposes. 

If he could hop in Jaehyun’s casket six feet under at this very moment, he would. In what world does this woman believe that's an appropriate thing to suggest at all, let alone in front of his wife?

“The company usually prioritizes events where everyone can participate without needing to be taught.” 

“Oh, right. Well, maybe just you and I could come then. Like, while we’re on our lunch break or something.”

His brain short circuits. Because did she really just ask him out in front of his wife?

It’s clear you also realize how blatantly audacious she is when you scoff and shake your head in disbelief. 

“No, I don’t think so,” he firmly rejects her. “I’ve only got one skating partner, Ms. Kim, and she’s right here.”

Jungkook throws his arm around you, but he feels you shy away from the touch. It sets his nerves on fire and he looks down to check your reaction, but all he finds is a blank, annoyed expression.

“Of course, so silly of me to even ask,” she rambles in embarrassment. “Well, uh, it was nice seeing you, Mr. Jeon, and nice meeting you, Mrs. Jeon.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you reply through a clenched jaw. 

Following an irritatingly cheerful wave, she leaves you two alone to enter the arena. 

The very second she’s out of sight, you turn on your heel and stomp towards the car. At which point Jungkook scrambles after you so he can remedy the situation. 

“Baby —” 

“What the fuck was that, Jaehyun?”

Jungkook blinks a couple times in shock.

“Okay, woah. No need to use the government name.”

“This isn’t funny,” you sneer.

“Sweetheart, she’s just some young, dumb admin assistant with a crush on me. It’s not a big deal. Especially when I think I make it very clear I’m not interested,” he explains.

“Wait.” You throw your hands up while your brain decodes his words. “That sounds like you’ve dealt with her before.” When Jungkook doesn’t deny the claim, your jaw drops. “I’m sorry, are you telling me this wasn’t the first time?”

He has to be extremely careful moving forward. He’s never been in a relationship, so this is technically his first real fight. 

“Yes, but nothing to this extent.” You immediately open your mouth to respond, but he stops you with his hand. “Listen, all she ever does is bring me coffee and spark up surface level conversations, but I already spoke to Jimin. He keeps her far, far away from me most of the time so we only interact in group settings.” 

 You scoff and cross your arms.

“Oh, so you’ve got some pretty young thing hand-delivering you coffee now?” 

Jungkook gawks at the accusation.

“I never accept it!” 

“But it happens enough that you had to talk to Jimin about it? I mean, why does she even still work for you?” 

“Because she may be annoying and naive, but I don’t want her to lose her job. I mean, who knows what her situation is like,” he tells you his reasoning. “She’s harmless, Y/N.”

A head shake is your initial reply.

“No. That was not harmless, it was infuriating.” 

“That was out of the norm, alright?” 

“I don’t care, Jae!” He’s hopeful you’ll present an actual resolution, but you just question him again. “How long has this been going on, anyway?” 

He gnaws on his lower lip, but not because the answer is bad, it’s just painful.

“Since Jungkook died.” Just like his own, your face falls a little. “I think she has this strange idea that a grieving man is more likely to cheat than one who isn’t.”

“Is he?” 

His train of thought comes to a steaming halt as his eyes widen and a deep frown overtakes his face.

“How can you ask me that?” Not only does your question sting, but he feels offended on behalf of his twin. Because the idea of Jaehyun, who loved you more than life itself, ever cheating, is downright preposterous. “I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen, and you think there’s even a chance I would stray for some little corporate girl who uses wedding rings like dating apps?”

When you simply shrug, it breaks his heart.

“It would explain why we haven’t had sex in months. They always say if your man isn’t sleeping with you, it’s because he’s getting it from somewhere else,” you accuse him.

He can’t even begin to comprehend you reaching that conclusion. Isn’t his utter devotion to you as transparent as the sky? Then again, it’s his own fault for not being able to meet your needs and therefore making you think he doesn’t want you.

“Is that really what you believe?” You shrug again. “Y/N, you know why we’ve been slow to start again after everything. I explained why I’m not ready and I thought you understood. I’m trying, baby. I swear, I am, but I just can’t yet.”

The sincerity in his tone in combination with his somber, guilty expression causes your anger to completely melt away. 

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” Hope soars in his chest when you step closer until you’re only inches apart. “You’re right, that wasn’t fair.” Your hand rises to comb the front pieces of his hair back. “I trust you, okay? I think that little altercation just got the better of me.”

Jungkook sighs in relief while cupping your face in both hands. 

“I’m sorry, too. I should’ve told you what was happening, but I didn’t want to stress you out when you’re working so hard on the bakery,” he claims. “You must know by now I’ve only had eyes for one woman my entire life. And no one could ever pull my attention away from her.”

Despite not being your actual husband, the statement still stands. 

“I know,” you whisper. The two of you exchange matching grins before Jungkook leans in for a kiss. “I love you, Jae. And I’m sorry again.”

He shakes his head.

“No need.” Your lips meet once more like it’s just second nature. “But I love you, too, Y/N.”

An hour or so later, you two stumble into the house with both your lips and limbs intertwined. 

Since Jungkook’s never had a real relationship, he’s also never experienced make up sex, but he always pictured it being like this.

As soon as the front door slams shut, he pushes you against the nearest wall and traces your curves. Upon reaching your hips, he hooks his arms beneath your thighs so he can force you to koala him. Then he pins you in place with his pelvis before grinding into you.

You moan into his mouth and tug on his hair when his semi-hard cock teases your cunt. But neither action is necessary to understand what you need; even through the layers of clothing separating you, he can feel the heat between your legs calling to him.  

Jungkook leaves your lips alone to kiss your neck instead, causing you to whimper and pant something reminiscent of his name. Or at least, the name you believe is his.

“We don’t… we don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for,” you reassure him.

“I know,” he grunts between the hot, sloppy kisses he’s painting on your throat. “Just wanna make you come. You need to know how fucking badly I want you.”

His lips soon descend towards your collarbones while he clutches the collar of your sweater and yanks it wide open to expose your bra. It has a zipper, so he doesn’t actually ruin it, but he absolutely would’ve without any hesitation. 

One hand travels up from your waist to cup your breast as the other shoves your bra down so his mouth can latch onto your exposed nipple. It elicits a desperate whine from the back of your throat and you even begin bucking your hips to gain more friction.

In return, Jungkook’s ravenous with your tits; squishing and squeezing one while sucking on the other until your nipple’s almost painfully hard. He then scrapes the pebbled skin with his teeth before using his tongue to soothe the ache. 

Your enjoyment is obvious and Jungkook’s soul lights up with pride every time he hears a breathy moan above him. Hell, if it weren’t for bills needing to be paid, he would dedicate all his time, even his entire life, to pleasuring you. 

In a perfect world, he’d have the time to fuck you so good and so often your body would react to him solely on instinct. He’d be able to make you come on his hands, mouth, or cock with only a single touch because you would be habituated to the sensation. 

But it’s fun having to work for it, too. He’d love to spends hours, days, and weeks exploring every inch of your body in order to discover what makes your back arch and toes curl. 

Hence why he’s kissing and licking across the swell of your breasts so he can switch sides. His mouth repeats the previous process while he twists your opposite nipple between his thumb and forefinger to keep it erect. Once both nubs are swollen and covered in his saliva, he pulls back to admire his handiwork. 

“God fucking damn,” he curses under his breath. 

Your chest’s heaving from all the adrenaline and it makes you look even more delectable. 

“Honey, please.”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker up to meet your own which are silently begging for more. So, he grants your wish by smashing your lips together as he engulfs one of your tits in his big hand. 

“You think you can come just from this, baby?” 

You enthusiastically nod mid-kiss.

“Yes. Fuck, yes. Please make me come.” 

He doesn’t need any further instructions. 

His free hand glides down your thigh so he can tighten your leg around him, bringing your bodies close enough for you to feel his dick pressing against your core. Once he finds the perfect spot, he starts feverishly rolling his hips as though he were actually fucking you.

It turns your moans into high pitched shrieks of ecstasy as he animalistically devours your mouth and massages each of your breasts.  

In the meantime, you scratch down his back and rake your fingers through his hair like it’ll keep you from drowning in the heat of the moment. To your benefit, even though your mind’s clearly frazzled, you’re still grinding into him at a harmonious pace. 

Jungkook’s going to come soon, that’s for sure, and he can’t believe this will be the second pair of boxers he creams in. Perhaps a younger version of himself would be embarrassed, but today he’d willingly ruin every article of clothing he owns to be with you like this.

“Shit. Just don’t stop and I swear, I’ll fucking bust any second,” he tells you.

You don’t reply besides a noise of acknowledgment he silences with more passionate kisses. 

True to his word, Jungkook’s abs clench, his heavy balls contract, and his hips falter before all his muscles relent and he groans against your mouth. You follow just a second behind with a loud whine while your legs shake around his waist. 

The tandem highs last for quite some time before you slowly stop humping one another. After another minute or so passes, your bodies finally stall and you’re both left panting into the small space between your faces.

Jungkook laughs after catching his breath, a sanguine smile on his lips.

“We didn’t even make it three feet into the house.”

You giggle.

“Eh, that’s par for the course, right?”

Damn, his brother really was the luckiest man in the world. He can’t even imagine all the mind blowing sex you two had over the last decade and a half if this is considered normal. 

“I promise, it won’t be like this forever. I’m sorry it’s taking me so long,” Jungkook states.

“Take as much time as you need, baby.” With a doting grin, you reach up to brush back the hair that fell out of place during your endeavors. “I know it’ll be nothing but pure magic when it finally happens.”

You can certainly say that again. Six months may be a long time, but Jungkook’s waited his whole life to be with you. He’s actually terrified he’ll give himself away if he can’t control his reaction to being inside you for the first time. 

The following Monday, Jungkook tells Jimin to let Ms. Kim go, or at the very least, move her to another team. As much as he doesn’t want to ruin her career with Jeon Industries, he refuses to allow anyone to disrespect you. Plus, if she’s that bold when you’re there, he doesn’t want to consider what she might do if she gets him alone again. 

There isn’t much drama at either work or home after that. Which is great because renovations have begun on the bar and you’re both putting all your effort into finishing the project.

The menu’s complete at this point, although you’re still testing seasonal recipes. Most of the time you work on designing the new interior layout and decor. You’ve already tackled the marketing materials, setting up the business spending account, and filing taxes.

You don’t want to change too much because the whole point is for it to still feel like Kookie’s bar, but there are some necessary adjustments for the business to flow properly. The first obstacle was the massive neon sign on the front of the building. You’re keeping the Kookie’s logo the same, but adding the words “Family Bakery” just below it in a complimentary font. 

It feels fitting because you always saw Jungkook as family, and he legally was. Plus, it highlights the passing of the establishment from one family member to the next. You tell Jungkook you think he’d like the choice since it means both Kookie’s and Jeon Industries will officially be Jeon family businesses. 

Jungkook assures you that you’re right while hiding how misty his eyes are because of your explanation.

You two are heading there today to paint the back office. Everything else is brick due to the building’s age, but Jungkook previously tore down a wall to create a place for all the paperwork and financials. As with most of his personal design choices, he painted the room black. It’s obviously not your vibe, so you’re going with a light, neutral color instead. Since it’s a relatively small space, you didn’t see a need to hire real painters. 

After arriving around noon, you hold the door open while Jungkook lugs the supplies in from the car. Once everything’s set up in the back room, including taping all the moldings and laying a tarp on the floor, he pops open the paint can. 

The light shade of pinkish beige practically screams your name, and it’ll look beautiful with the aesthetic of the rest of the bakery. Even if the room’s only for your use, Jungkook wants it to be nice and most importantly, for you to be happy. 

He stirs the paint with the stick before pouring a liberal amount in the paint tray. After he stands up, you pass him a matching edging brush to the one in your hand. 

“You ready, partner?” Jungkook asks with a gentle slap on the bill of the hat you’re wearing. 

“Let’s do this,” you cheer. 

You focus on the lower part of the room while Jungkook tackles the upper half. It’s an easy decision to make considering you’re rather terrified of ladders and heights in general. 

It takes just over an hour to cover all the edges, at which point you break for a quick snack before starting on the main surface area. Since the walls are currently black, it gives the neutral color some depth you weren’t expecting. You debated on painting it all white first as a base, but the man at the paint store assured you it would be alright. 

“Do you like it so far, baby?” 

Jungkook kneels again to add more paint to the tray so you can coat the large paint rollers you’ll be using for the remainder of the project.

“I do! It looks really pretty.” He stands at the same time you hand him one of the tools. “Thank you for helping, honey.”

With a wave, he rejects your gratitude. 

“Oh, please. We’re in this together.”

“Damn right!” 

You both lean in for a smooch before facing away from each other to begin painting your respective walls. It’s much easier when you’re covering a large area, and you end up meeting in the center of the final wall only twenty minutes later.

Following the final stroke of Jungkook’s roller, you harmoniously sigh while stepping back to admire the job well done. 

“Fuck yeah,” he shouts. 

Your head turns in his direction as you giggle. 

“Easier than expected, huh?” 

“Yeah. In fact, I’m kinda sad it ended so fast.”

“Why? Do you find this kind of activity enjoyable?” 

Jungkook clicks his tongue before gazing at you with a lovesick smile.

“Anything’s enjoyable with you around, my sweetheart.” Cue an adoring eye roll. “But I don’t know. I guess I just thought there would be more opportunities to tease you or mess around.”

“While painting?”

“Mmhm.”

His reasoning makes you chuckle, but Jungkook’s deep in thought. He observes you for a moment while his brain churns for an idea. When it settles on something fun that also won’t be too destructive, his eyes come alive. 

Without you noticing because you’re still staring at the walls, Jungkook bends down and dips his palm in the leftover paint. He then slowly rises to his full height again so you don’t suspect anything. 

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

As soon as you turn, he clutches your face with his paint-soaked hand and slides it over so your nose, brow, and opposite cheek also get smothered in the color.

Your jaw drops with a sharp gasp, contrary to your eyes squeezing shut in clear annoyance. 

“What. The. Fuck.”

Jungkook’s too preoccupied laughing and cradling his stomach with his clean arm to respond. You honestly look adorable despite the massive, pink hand print and smear marks. Especially when he focuses on all your scrunched up, angry features. 

“You look so damn cute, baby,” he giggles.

“Cute? This is cute to you?” 

“Fucking precious.”

You thoughtfully hum while bending down to coat your own palm in paint. 

“Well, I wanna see you looking cute, too.” 

Unlike his approach, which was relatively gentle, you smack your hand right on the apple of his cheek and totally squish his face when you spread the paint around. Jungkook yelps and attempts to shove you away, but you’re merciless. Eventually, he gives up on trying to stop you in lieu of simply returning the favor. 

He grasps your chin again and starts moving his hand everywhere in reach while you do the same to him. The reciprocal antics cause you both to break out into hysterical laughter, but you still manage to continue painting one another. 

Somewhere between the giggles and shrieks, Jungkook gets the bright idea to expand his expedition. While still pushing on your face, he uses his free hand to scoop up more paint. This time, he splatters the side of your neck before dragging the color down your collarbones and chest. 

“Jae!” 

He squeezes your tit for good measure, leaving a perfect handprint on your shirt. 

His opposite arm follows suit to create streaks of pink along your torso and he even travels to your back so he can grab your ass with both hands. By now, you’ve gotten the memo, and choose to dip your other hand in the paint as well. You smear the liquid all across his abs until deciding to coat his throat and shoulders.  

You two are cackling like hyenas as you ceaselessly mark each other. Thankfully, you both wore old clothes for the job, so nothing of importance is getting ruined. 

After who knows how long, there’s a silent, unanimous truce and you slowly back away from one another while your chests rise and fall with adrenaline. 

Jungkook surveys your current state before glancing down at his own body and chuckling at how truly insane you each look. 

“See, wasn’t that so much more fun than just finishing the room?”

Your eyes flicker up with a theatrical glare.

“Oh, yeah. It was a total blast,” you flatly remark.

He knows you genuinely did enjoy yourself, so he taunts you with a playful head tilt and cheshire grin while approaching you one step at a time. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, just admit you had fun.”

“No.”

You cross your arms over your chest, but there’s a hint of a smile on your face that reveals your true emotions.

Once Jungkook’s close enough, he captures your waist and nuzzles his head against your neck. It automatically elicits a bellowing laugh as you return his embrace by rising to your tiptoes.

“I had fun,” you whisper. 

Jungkook smiles and presses a couple soft kisses to your skin before standing up straight. 

“I knew it.”

“But now we have to figure out how we’re getting home like this.”

“Oh… I didn’t think about that.”

“You don’t say?”

Your classic sarcasm makes him roll his eyes, but he also gazes around the room for a solution. He locates one in the form of the extra tarps you brought just in case, which he steals from the floor to present to you. 

“Tada!”

It’s your turn for an eye roll as you snatch the bright, blue plastic from Jungkook’s hands and head towards the exit. 

“You can make up for your shenanigans by cleaning all this up,” you holler from the bar. 

Jungkook doesn’t argue, especially when he was planning on telling you to relax while he takes care of everything, anyway. Once the paint can and tools are all stored away, he leaves the office with the second tarp tucked under his arm.

You two decide the best option is to cover the car seats with the tarp, as opposed to wrapping the plastic around yourselves. It works well enough, and by the time you arrive at home, you and your clothes are still the only things doused in paint. 

The front door clicks shut behind Jungkook as you each carefully remove your shoes and travel towards the bedroom to clean up. 

“We should probably hop straight into the shower,” Jungkook suggests. 

“Agreed. You wanna go first?” 

It takes him a second to answer because he has to work up the courage first. 

“Why don’t we just shower together?”

Your eyes broaden in surprise, but they very quickly become crescents when you smile at the proposal.

“Really?”

Jungkook nods.

“Really. C’mon.” 

He takes your hand to lead you into the en-suite where he instructs you to strip and drop the tainted clothes in the bathtub since it’ll be easier to clean. Meanwhile, he twists the faucet to start the water before stepping out of his clothes himself. 

This is actually the first time you’ll be seeing him fully naked. But even though you’re unaware of that, he feels nervous about turning to face you after placing his shirt and jeans in the tub. 

Of course, there’s no reason to be. Your eyes light up once you see him as a knowing smirk forms on your lips.

“Well, hello, handsome,” you drawl. 

Jungkook attempts to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks by looking away, but it’s absolutely useless. 

“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

It’s the truth by a technicality, since he and Jaehyun are identical. 

“And yet I never get tired of it.”

All he wants is the attention off of him, so he uses your wrist to tug you closer until you’re chest to chest.

“Ditto.”

“You wanna prove it?” 

You send him a challenging eyebrow raise and Jungkook can’t resist smirking in response. 

Rather than answering, he wraps his arm around your waist and begins walking you both backwards into the steam. He uses his free hand to slide the glass door open before guiding the two of you under the water. Once his back hits the marble tile, he cradles your cheek so he can pull you in for a kiss. 

His tongue immediately presses against the seam of your lips and you part them without hesitation. As he licks inside your mouth, you whine and drive your nails into his shoulder muscles. It’s difficult to hear much over the rapid stream from the faucet, but Jungkook soon joins you in zealously moaning the longer you lock lips.

Between the paint, hot water, and undeniable sexual tension, it’s easily the sloppiest kiss you’ve shared as of yet. Streaks of light pink are running down your naked bodies before swirling around the drain and the shower water’s mixing with your spit while your tongues chase one another.

Jungkook’s hands choose to explore your back and neck, but yours seem to be everywhere all at once. He feels your fingertips on his pecs, down his abs, and dancing up his spine. Every single touch gives him goosebumps, although his brain isn’t powerful enough to focus on the different sensations. 

Ironically, it’s easier making out when there’s water involved. It not only allows your lips to effortlessly mold together, but your bodies as well. Your every curve is aligned with Jungkook’s without any room in between and he can practically feel your heart thumping beside his own. 

“I love you,” Jungkook professes when you break for air. His hands return to your face so he can tilt your head up and admire you. There’s still some paint around your nose and eyebrows, but it doesn’t stop you from being the most beautiful view in existence. “So fucking much, Y/N.”

You flash him an infectious smile despite the mundane nature of the phrase. 

“I love you, Jaehyun.”

“You wanna prove it?”

The callback to your earlier comment makes you giggle as you stretch up on your tiptoes for another kiss. 

“And how would you propose I do that?” You playfully inquire. 

Jungkook holds off on verbally replying to grab your waist again and spin you around until you’re the one against the tile. Then he sinks to his knees without ever breaking eye contact. 

“Just don’t ask me to stop,” he instructs. 

Your eyes fly wide open when he hooks his arms around each of your legs and hoists you unto his shoulders. The sudden movement causes you to gasp and clutch his hair for support, but he certainly doesn’t mind the ache. 

He waits a couple seconds but when you don’t protest, he finally glances down at your pretty cunt. 

It’s his first glimpse of you up close, and the sight elicits multiple nonsensical curses as he admires your swollen, wet folds. He’s encountered plenty of pussies in his day, and none of them even come close to you. 

“God, I am gonna fucking eat you alive.” 

That’s the last thing he says before shoving his face between your thighs and dragging his tongue up your slit. His initial taste of you is magical, idyllic, and goddamn mind numbing. He groans so loud you feel the vibrations in your core, evident by how you shiver in his arms. 

After that, he repeats the same motion relentlessly; over and over again so he can swallow every last drop of arousal you’re producing just for him. You’re so sweet it’s like eating candy, or more appropriately, the desserts you create. 

Jungkook can tell the difference between the liquid pouring down around your bodies and your cum. Unlike the shower water, your essence is slick and sticks to his tongue until he’s able to curl it into his mouth. That’s how he knows you’re already soaking wet and it isn’t just from you standing beneath the faucet. 

The amount of essence leaking from your hole fills him with pride and encourages him to keep going so he can swallow more. Honestly, he could just eat you out for the rest of his life and be satisfied. 

Your thighs are shaking on either side of his head and he knows it isn’t from physical weakness, but what he’s doing to you. Especially because he’s got his arms firmly wrapped around your thighs and is even supporting your hips with both hands. 

He loves that he has such a debilitating effect on you. All he ever wants is to make you feel good, writhe in pleasure, and scream so loud your voice becomes hoarse. Although, he plans on going until he’s too spent to continue, regardless of when you surpass those goals. 

“Fuck, baby,” you whine while latching on tighter to his hair. 

Feeling your fingers scratch his scalp makes him moan into your cunt, especially in combination with the sound of your breathless voice. 

Jungkook decides to switch tactics by circling your clit with the tip of his tongue. The change prompts you to yank on his hair and aggressively moan, which is precisely what he was hoping for. He alternates between figure eights, ovals, and short flicks so he can stimulate your nerve endings in multiple different ways. Each one produces a new response, although it’s clear when he flattens his tongue and starts sucking he’s found a winner. 

Your hole clenches around nothing as more cum drips down your folds and coats his chin. The satisfaction it brings him is undeniable, and he continues without restraint while you cry out and mindlessly string curses together. 

“Honey, I’m… Holy shit, I’m gonna come.”

He shakes his head when he moves back down so he can thrust his tongue directly into your cunt.

“You don’t have to tell me every time. I assure you, it won’t be your last,” he tells you. 

Your pussy flutters around his tongue as he pushes it deep inside you to lick along your inner walls. You’re gushing at this point, so much that he has to pause every once in a while or else he might literally drown in you. 

Even without your warning, Jungkook knows the exact moment you come. Not only does he feel your muscles clench, but all of a sudden the whole bottom half of his face gets covered in arousal. 

He happily drinks up every last drop while holding you tight so you don’t fall over from the intense orgasm. Your whole body convulses in his arms as you grasp his hair like you wanna rip it right out of his scalp. You’re also endlessly whimpering and it’s music to Jungkook’s ears, both literally and figuratively. 

It’s apparent when your high begins to ebb, and even more obvious how sensitive you are afterwards. So Jungkook stays away from your clit to give your body some time to settle. In the meantime, he lazily makes out with your pussy. Both his lips and your folds are puffy from all the friction, but it only makes the act more enjoyable. He adores how soft and warm you feel against his mouth. 

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he praises while glancing up from between your legs. You look completely fucked out; flushed red from all the adrenaline with watery eyes and parted, dry lips. “Does it feel good?”

You aimlessly nod.

“So, so good.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook twists his head to kiss your inner thigh. “You want more?”

“I want you,” you declare. “Just keep fucking me ‘til the water runs cold.”

His chuckle meets your wet skin as he continues trailing his lips back to your core. 

“The water doesn't have anything to do with it, baby. I’m going until I’m finished with you. Not a second sooner.”

The conversation ends there when he wraps his lips around your clit again. You gasp and instinctively force his face closer to your center, encouraging him to suck harder and flick his tongue over the swollen nerve endings. 

“Fuck,” you sob before muffling yourself with your hand which was previously gripping the wall. 

For the most part, Jungkook just repeats all his tricks but at different speeds and out of order from the first go around. He does try a couple other strategies, like spitting into your hole and then fucking his saliva into you. 

Once his greed surpasses what his mouth can accomplish, he reaches up with one hand to grope your breast. The new sensation causes you to exuberantly moan and arch your back, so he takes it as a green light to continue squeezing and massaging you as well as tweaking your nipple. 

A second orgasm approaches even quicker than your first and before the water temperature even begins to change, you’ve already come a third, fourth, and fifth time. Jungkook isn’t even tired yet, either. He could keep you here all night, but he knows your body won’t allow that.

Following your last climax, you’re nothing more than a ragdoll in his arms. He can’t see your tear stains due to the water, but he can tell you’ve been crying because your eyes are swollen and red. Your hold on his hair is barely existent anymore and your legs haven’t stopped trembling since orgasm number three. 

Jungkook’s currently giving you another break by kissing and nipping at your inner thighs. He definitely doesn’t want to be done with you yet, but if you can’t continue he’ll have to save his insatiable hunger for another day. 

“Can you give me one more, sweetheart?”

“Jae,” you groan like you’re in a trance. “Please.”

“Is that a yes?”

Your hazy, unfocused eyes flit down to connect with his own.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

The last thing he ever wants is to push you past your limit, but he also trusts you to listen to your own body. 

When you nod assuredly, he doesn’t question you and gives your skin one last kiss before diving in again. 

It’s no surprise you come barely a minute later. Your cunt is so overstimulated and sensitive by now almost anything would set you off. 

Knowing this is the end, Jungkook makes sure to swallow everything your body has to offer with lackadaisical kisses and licks through your folds. You taste better than he could ever imagine, and he’s already looking forward to his next feast. 

After he’s satisfied and you’re no longer twitching from all the consecutive releases, he gently returns your feet to the floor and rises to his full height. 

As soon as you two are standing nose to nose again, you collapse into him to lean your head on his shoulder. But he adjusts so your entire body weight can rest against him as he rubs your back and plants chaste kisses in your hair. 

With his free hand, he shuts off the water before enveloping you so you’re safe and sound in the cocoon of his arms. 

“You alright?” He whispers while resting his head on your crown.

“Mmhm,” you hum. “Thank you.”

Jungkook chuckles.

“No, thank you.” His lips find your temple for another smooch. “For the meal, that is.” Despite how weak you are, you giggle at the remark. “C’mon, baby. Let’s get you to bed.”

“It’s not even dinnertime yet.”

“I know, but you need to rest after all that.”

You don’t protest and let Jungkook guide you out of the shower into the main bathroom. He dries your body with a nice, fluffy towel, including wringing out your hair so it isn’t dripping wet anymore. Then he helps you step into a soft pair of pajamas. 

Once you look adorably cozy, he scoops you up bridal style to carry you to bed. You lay your head on his shoulder during the short trek and even though it’s a tiny gesture, Jungkook’s heart flutters all the same. 

He tucks you under the blankets and fixes your hair so it’s on the pillow rather than getting your back wet before stepping away to admire you. 

“Comfy?” You nod and snuggle deeper into the warmth of the bed. “I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready if you aren’t up before then.”

“Hmm? How are you gonna make dinner?”

“I’ll order in.”

All you do is hum in response while your eyes close and your lips part as you drift off into dreamland. 

Unlike the previous sexual encounters you two have had, Jungkook doesn’t find himself disappearing into his own head about everything. You, him, Jaehyun, all of it. For the first time, he just enjoys the experience for what it is and goes about his day. 

He hopes that means he’s one step closer to being able to give you all of him, but he isn’t planning on rushing into it, either. The most important thing is for him to be totally present in the moment with you when you make love for the first time.

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he leans in, presses the softest kiss to the inside of your knee, then another a little higher. “this skin here… it’s thin. sensitive. not many people think about thighs when they think about pleasure spots, but they should.” his lips trail up the inside of one thigh, slow open-mouthed kisses that leave tiny wet marks. every few inches he pauses to speak against your skin. “feels good because it’s unexpected. it makes your nerves wake up. plus it’s close enough to where you really want me that your body starts anticipating. see how your legs are already trying to open more for me?”

you make a tiny embarrassed sound, thighs trembling under his mouth.

“don’t hide,” he murmurs, nipping the softest part of your inner thigh just enough to make you gasp. “i love that you react like this. shows me how much you trust me.”

he spends long minutes there — kissing, licking slow stripes up your thighs, alternating sides, never quite reaching the center yet. just building that slow burn. when he finally hooks his fingers under the hem of your shirt, he looks up at you with those big earnest eyes.

“can i see more of you, angel? wanna take my time looking.”

you nod, heart hammering.

he peels your shirt up inch by inch, kissing every new strip of skin he uncovers — your ribs, the dip under your breasts, the soft curve of your underboob. when your shirt’s finally off and tossed somewhere, he just sits back on his heels for a second, staring.

“god… look at you.” his voice is rougher now. “you’re so fucking beautiful it hurts sometimes.”

he reaches behind you without asking this time, unhooks your bra with one smooth motion, slides the straps down your arms like he’s unwrapping something precious. when your breasts are bare he exhales shakily.

“okay… let’s start here properly.” one hand cups the underside of your left breast, lifting it gently like he’s weighing it. thumb brushes over the nipple — once, twice, so light it’s almost nothing. your whole body jerks anyway.

heeseung chuckles low, fond. “oh baby… your pretty little nipples are so sensitive, aren’t they?” he pinches very gently between thumb and forefinger, rolling just enough to make your back arch. “look how fast they get hard. that’s your body saying "yes, touch me more". these nerves are connected straight to that sweet spot between your legs. that’s why you feel it down there already, even though i haven’t touched you yet.”

he leans in, tongue flicking out to circle one peak slowly, deliberately. “warm, wet, soft… that’s why mouths feel better than fingers sometimes. no calluses, no roughness. just… slick heat.” he sucks gently — slow pulls that make your toes curl — then switches sides, giving the other the same treatment. “and the little bites…” he grazes his teeth over the tip, not hard, just enough to sting sweetly. “they make the nerves light up even more. sharp then soft. contrast. your body loves contrast.”

you’re whimpering now, fingers tangled in his hair, hips shifting restlessly.

“patience, sweet girl,” he soothes, kissing down the center of your stomach. “we’ve got time. i want you dripping before i even think about being inside you.”

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and panties at the same time, pausing to kiss your hipbone. “can you lift for me?” you do, and he slides everything down your legs, tossing them off the bed. when you’re completely bare he settles between your thighs again, spreading them wider this time, hands firm on the backs so you can’t close them even if you get shy.

he just looks for a long moment — eyes heavy, lips parted. “fuck… you’re glistening already. that’s so pretty.” one finger traces the outer lips, feather-light, gathering wetness. “this is your arousal. your body making its own lubrication so nothing hurts when we go further. see how slick you are? that means you want this. your pussy knows it wants to be filled, even if you’re still nervous.”

he parts you gently with two fingers, exposing your clit fully. you tense, breath catching.

“shhh, easy,” he whispers. “look at this pretty clit… so swollen already.” the pad of his middle finger circles it — once, achingly slow. your hips buck. “there we go. there are thousands of nerve endings right here, baby. all made for pleasure. no other purpose. that’s why even the lightest touch feels like electricity.”

he keeps circling, varying the pressure — light, then firmer, then light again — watching your face the whole time. “you like it when i go clockwise? or counter? tell me what feels best.”

“both—both feel good,” you manage, voice shaky.

he smiles. “good answer.” then he leans down, breath ghosting over you before his tongue flattens against your clit in one long, slow lick from your entrance up. you cry out softly.

“that’s it,” he mumbles against you. “you taste so fucking sweet. warm, perfect.” another slow lick. “my mouth feels good here because it’s the softest thing possible. no friction, just wet heat and pressure. and when i suck…” he closes his lips around your clit, gentle suction, tongue flicking at the same time.

your back bows, thighs shaking around his head.

he pulls off with a wet sound, kisses the hood softly. “see how your hips are moving on their own? that’s instinct. your body chasing more. don’t fight it. just let it happen.”

he keeps going — alternating between licking broad stripes, flicking the tip of his tongue fast over your clit, then sucking again — slow, patient, building you up without rushing. one hand finds yours, laces your fingers so you have something to hold onto. the other slides lower, one finger circling your entrance, not pushing in yet.

“this part here…” he presses just the tip inside, barely any stretch. “feels different. fuller. more intimate. when i push in deeper it’ll press against all these sensitive spots inside. especially this one,” he curls his finger slightly, brushing something that makes stars burst behind your eyes. you gasp loud. “yeah… right there. that’s your g-spot. feels intense because it’s swollen when you’re turned on. likes pressure. likes being rubbed.”

he adds a second finger slowly, scissoring just enough to stretch you, curling again and again while his mouth stays on your clit. the combination is overwhelming — his tongue soft and relentless, fingers steady and knowing.

“you’re clenching so tight around my fingers,” he groans against you. “that means you’re close. your body’s getting ready to come. let it happen, baby. don’t hold back. i’ve got you.”

he speeds up just a little — tongue flicking faster, fingers curling deeper — and talks you through every second.

“feel that build-up? that’s it. right there. so close. you’re doing so good. so pretty when you’re falling apart for me. come on, angel… let go. come on my tongue. wanna taste it when you do.”

and when it hits — your whole body locking up around his fingers and mouth — he doesn’t stop right away. softens everything, gentle licks and slow strokes to drag it out, whispering praise the whole time.

“that’s it… good girl… so fucking perfect… look at you shaking… love making you feel like this…”

when you finally go limp he kisses his way back up your body until he’s hovering over you, forearms braced beside your head.

he kisses your forehead, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. “are you okay, angel?” voice soft, thumb brushing your cheek.

you nod, dazed, still floating. “more than okay…”

he smiles, presses his forehead to yours. “good. because we’re nowhere near done.” another kiss, deeper this time. “whenever you’re ready… i’ll show you what it feels like when i’m inside you. slow. gentle. talking you through every inch. but only when you say yes.”

you hide your burning face in his neck, arms wrapping around him tight.

he just holds you closer, rocking you gently.

“we've got all the time in the world, baby. i’m not going anywhere.”

© jongst4r, 2026

for as long as you could remember, you had never been particularly fond of your boyfriend’s friends.

they were outright obnoxious, and even that was you being kind and considerate. their voices boomed loudly and their laughter rang out, and the demeaning remarks they made too often to be mere jokes always made you a little uncomfortable. 

though they knew better than to make any lewd comments about you, at least. most of them were about a pretty girl wandering the party, or their girlfriend of the week. but you weren’t dumb. you saw the way they looked at you every now and then, judging you. scorning you. tearing you apart. 

no comments were spoken squarely to your face, but you knew they were conjured. it made you wonder what they said to jake when you weren’t there on his lap, and you wondered if he chimed along. 

thick clouds of smoke loomed in the stuffy air, making it difficult to breathe. you coughed into your fist, feeling your throat itch. honest to god, you had absolutely no clue how they smoked that shit. the one time jake had coaxed you into putting a joint to your mouth, you had thought you were dying.

jay said something that abruptly made the group of boys burst into laughter. you jolted, lifting your head from jake’s shoulder. he tightened his arm, which was looped around your back, holding you against him. “jake?” you whispered. 

“hm?”

you were reluctant to say anything, knowing how he would likely respond, but you didn’t want to be here anymore. “can we go somewhere else?”

jake exhaled through his nose. you knew he didn’t want to leave. to him, these nights with his friends were harmless little exploits that made his life a little easier. 

it didn’t help that he was already annoyed with you. when he swung by earlier to pick you up, he looked you up and down, and the first thing to leave his mouth was a disgruntled, “why do you always dress so childishly?”

you had never thought of your bright colors and cute patterns as inherently childish. matter of fact, the cute, brown top with stitched teddy bears you were wearing was one of your favorite shirts. 

“why do you want to leave?” jake asked softly, gently rubbing your back in hopes of soothing you. 

“it’s too noisy,” you complained, peering up at him.

jake could have rolled his eyes. fuck’s sake, it was a party. obviously, it wasn’t going to sound like a prayer hall. “if you smoked a little, it wouldn’t bother you.”

“i don’t like smoking.”

“that’s because you’re not used to it, baby,” jake reasoned. 

“i don’t want to get used to it,” you mumbled. “you guys all pass around the same joint. you’ve basically kissed each other. which means that when you kiss me, i’m kissing all of them.”

jake groaned, “you’re so dramatic, you know that, sweetheart? it’s just a joint.”

“can you please just take me home?” you pleaded. between the rings of smoke hanging over you and the resounding thud of music and the cacophony of loud voices, you felt like you were suffocating.

jake was silent for a few moments, jaw tight. something tightened in your chest, recognizing the look on his face as something angry. before you could change your mind, jake pushed you off his lap, watching you scramble onto your feet, and spoke, “gonna call it a night early, gang. my special princess over here is too good to hang with us.”

jungwon groaned. jay rolled his eyes. heeseung snickered, not so discreetly looking at your legs, and said, “bye, princess.”

jake flipped him off and guided you away, murmuring, “come on, baby.” his hand was on the small of your back.

the two of you pushed past the bundle of people partying in the main room, which was easier with your tall, respected boyfriend in tow. your shoulders relaxed when you were outside. you were happy to be breathing in the fresh air rather than smoking and doing whatever else people could get their hands on.

jake opened the door on the passenger side of his car, letting you climb inside. by the time you were on the road, his hand was on your thigh.

you didn’t mind that. jake was a very touchy boyfriend and he always had his hands all over you. the attention was something you needed, something you craved. it was just safe enough to make you feel wanted within the boundaries of your control.

but then, after maybe ten or fifteen minutes, his hand started to move. you tore your gaze from the window down to the motion on your lap, stomach churning as you sensed his hands slipping further and further. then, your eyes went up to his face. his eyes were on the road, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

everyone was nervous about losing their virginity. everyone was scared of firsts. but for you, it was a little more than that. you weren’t scared of what happened during the act; you were terrified of what came after.

would jake still want you after you gave him what he’d been coveting? would he come back for more? could you meet his expectations, compare to the fantasies he’d crafted in his mind and had been hoping to enact?

you couldn’t know for sure. once you gave him what he wanted, you had nothing to keep him around anymore; nothing to rein him back in after the night was over. and the last thing you wanted was to be alone again. it had been okay, the ice, the nip, when it was all you’d ever known, but now that you had known how it felt to be warm, you didn’t want to remember how it felt to freeze.

“jake,” you called out softly. “what are you doing?”

“nothing, baby,” jake lied sweetly, feigning innocence. all the while, his hand was continuing to move up your leg. slowly, but surely. 

when he got too close, you decided that you were more than a little uncomfortable and gingerly pushed his hand away, as if not to upset him. “babe, i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

jake forced a smile, and somehow, that was more unnerving than if he had screamed at you, exasperated. “goddamn it, woman,” he murmured. “you already dragged me away from my friends. the least you could do is make it worth it.”

you swallowed, guilt hitting you like a punch in the chest. but the anxious stirring in your stomach was a thousand times worse, a million times louder, and potent tenfold. “i’m sorry,” was all you could bring yourself to say. 

jake scoffed, refusing to look at you. which was probably not so bad, all things considered. “yeah, you should be,” he grumbled. 

your eyes watered, but you looked out the window and tried to think of happier, kinder times. you didn’t want to cry, not until you were alone where no one could see. you hated crying in front of others. it was embarrassing. to say nothing of the fact that whenever jake reduced you to tears, he called you a crybaby, and he’d already made you feel childish enough.

the rest of the drive home was silent, save for the sound of the wind blowing through your hair and the occasional honking; your only refuge in the midst of your struggle to be the perfect girlfriend. the cool night breeze calmed you, soothed you, and traffic felt familiar. it was oddly comforting, being stuck between two things with nowhere to go. 

a feeling you knew all too well. 

the only downside was that the longer you stayed there, hardly moving, the longer you had to pretend everything was okay and try desperately not to sob.

it felt like forever before you were finally back home. you immediately got out of the car, having assumed that jake wanted nothing more to do with you right now. 

to your surprise, he sighed and willed himself to get out of the car, walking you to your front door. 

you peered up at him, trying to read his face, trying to understand where he was at and where you had pushed him. “are you mad at me?” you asked timidly, as if you didn’t truly want to know the answer.

jake took his time to answer, exhaling quietly. “no, baby,” he said after a moment. “i’m not mad. but you can’t avoid sex forever, you know. that’s what people do. it’s natural.”

he said it so outrightly, so bluntly. as if it was really, truly just another thing that everyone did, that had no risk and no consequence. you admired his fearlessness sometimes, wondering how his life had unfolded for him to be so bold, and realized you knew very little about him. “i know,” you whispered. 

jake reached for your hand, tenderly brushing his fingers over your knuckles. “but?”

you released a shaky breath. jake understood you, some ways better than others. he may have been completely clueless in some regards, but your body language was not one. shy, you confessed, “but i’m scared.”

“why are you scared?” jake asked, keeping his voice soft and level. “do you not trust me, sweetheart?”

“no, i do,” you replied, though you weren’t entirely sure if that was true or not. “but what if it’s not what you’re expecting?”

jake chuckled, as if that was absurd. “baby, relax,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “you could never disappoint me.”

your eyes got a little wider, a little starrier, watching him as if he was your whole world. “are you sure?”

“yeah, i’m sure, baby,” he told you, pressing a final kiss to your lips. “goodnight, sweetheart.”

“goodnight,” you whispered, watching him slowly start to back away. “text me when you get home.”

jake bobbed his head in acknowledgment and started to walk back to his car.

you unlocked the front door of your house, hoping to god your mother wasn’t somewhere lounging around or smoking. your stepfather didn’t enjoy when she smoked inside the house, but he was gone for the weekend. which, to her, meant his rules didn’t matter.

there was no sight of your mother when you walked into the house. but you blinked in surprise when you saw your stepfather’s favorite coat hanging on the rack in the foyer. you didn’t know people actually had those until you moved in with him.

sunghoon was in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up halfway to his shoulders, drinking coffee out of a mug you’d designed for his birthday when you were roughly fourteen. it was stupid and kind of ugly, but the fact that he still drank from it, even after four years, warmed your heart.

“daddy?” you called, stunned. you weren’t expecting him to be here for another day. 

“hey, doll,” sunghoon greeted, setting down his mug for a second. “you look surprised.”

you nodded your head. compared to what you heard in endless amounts of fiction, sunghoon didn’t go on many business trips. one a month, usually, for less than three days. “i thought you were coming back tomorrow?”

“we were able to wrap things up early,” sunghoon explained briefly. he didn’t like to bore you with the details of his job, though you often asked him about it, which was somewhat endearing.

“oh,” you mumbled. you tried not to show how happy you were. most times when you were alone here with your mother, you tried to go out as much as you possibly could, which was the only reason you had agreed to hang out with jake and his friends tonight. 

“yeah.” sunghoon’s eyes flitted over your body, making you feel a little self-conscious. he would habitually remember to pick up his mug and wince at how hot his coffee was. “you look cute.”

you blinked. sunghoon always complimented the way you dressed, often reminding you how cute and beautiful you were. you wished your boyfriend was more like that. “thanks,” you replied, coming over to hug him.

sunghoon set his mug down again and threw his arms around you, gentle as ever. but he smelled something on you that he didn’t exactly love. “you went out with that boy again, didn’t you?”

“how did you know?”

“you smell like weed,” he answered bluntly. 

your cheeks burned. the smell had followed you home, clinging to you. you didn’t notice it on yourself, but you knew how much he hated it. “i didn’t smoke,” you told him. “i was just next to them.”

sunghoon chuckled. he knew that. you hated the mere smell of smoke, always scrunching up your face whenever it stuck to your mother or whatever spot she’d chosen to get high at. “you don’t need to explain yourself to me, doll. i know you.”

you nodded, even more embarrassed. reluctantly, you pulled away and sat on the barstool next to him. it was late and you were kind of sleepy, exhausted of having to try so hard, but you wanted to talk to him.

ironically, it was silent for a moment as sunghoon sipped his coffee and you tried to think of what to say. sunghoon spoke first, mentioning offhandedly, “i don’t like your boyfriend.”

you sighed, resting your head against the island. “i don’t really like him, either.”

that threw sunghoon off. “so why are you still dating him?”

“i don’t know,” you huffed.

sunghoon’s eyes were fixed on you, wanting to get to the bottom of it and willing to confront the issue that you weren’t. you had no business staying in a relationship you weren’t content with. “is he threatening you?” he asked.

your shot up, eyes widening. “no, he’s not making me date him.”

if anything, that only served to make sunghoon even more alarmed, and he pressed, “what is he making you do?”

“he’s not making me do anything,” you replied quietly, knowing that wasn’t the best way to put it. “it’s just that… he wants to have sex.”

“and you don’t?” sunghoon finished for you. the topic didn’t make him feel awkward or uncomfortable, even if you were, by law, his daughter. he was the one person in the world you could talk to about anything and everything without fear, and he took great pride in that.

you shrugged, repeating, “i don’t know.”

“well, you gotta know something, baby,” sunghoon teased. “do you, or do not you?”

ignoring the way the pet name made you feel, you tried to think about it, hard. “i mean, he’s cute. and he’s nice enough most of the time,” you murmured, engrossed in thought. “but i guess i don’t really trust him that much yet. and i don’t want to give my body to someone i don’t trust.”

sunghoon hummed in understanding. “you know that’s not a bad thing, right?”

you sighed, shoulders slumped. “i guess.”

sunghoon placed his hand on your cheek, his touch feather light, as if you had a fragile warning on your forehead. “you can do so much better than him,” he whispered. “i know you’re going to do whatever you want at the end of the day, but as your father, i’m going to look out for you.”

but could you do any better? jake was your first boyfriend in years. maybe he wasn’t perfect, but he was better than all the failed talking stages you’d been through. if you held onto the good memories, the ones like only a moment ago where he held you tenderly and touched you with affection, you could bear the hurt.

but there was nothing like that with sunghoon. the way he touched you now, his hand on your face, was something you could always expect. “thank you for that.”

sunghoon shook his head. “you don’t need to thank me. it’s what i’m supposed to do.”

no, you have no obligation to do that, you thought to yourself, bemused. for nearly five years, he had been going above and beyond for you, treating you as if you were his very own daughter. you couldn’t understand it. 

but you appreciated it. you appreciated everything. the way he reminded you how beautiful you were, the way he spent time with you even when he was exhausted, the way he listened to your problems and told you everything was going to be okay. without him, you would be so much more broken. 

but you didn’t let your thoughts wander there. it was too much suppressed pain that you weren’t ready to uncover. “daddy, are you tired?”

sunghoon shrugged. “not really. i probably won’t go to sleep until around two. why?”

“do you want to watch a scary movie with me?” you asked, hopeful. yearnful. 

sunghoon could see it in your eyes. he had learned to become very good at reading you after so long, though you’d always worn your emotions on your face. especially when you were thinking. it was very hard for you to lie. chuckling at the thought, he replied, “why not?”

you smiled, removing his hand from your face to slip your fingers through his as you hopped off the barstool, and led him to the living room.

the two of you settled on a nightmare on elm street and you went on to complain about how much you disliked eighties horror, much to sunghoon’s amusement. he tried to remind you that the technology and equipment available decades ago wasn’t the same as in the current age, but you didn’t budge.

apparently, you found the movie so boring that you fell asleep watching young johnny depp get devoured by a mattress. your head was on sunghoon’s shoulder, the couch blanket draped over you as you snored softly.

when you woke up, you were in your bed, cocooned inside your comforter instead and surrounded by stuffed dolls as birds chirped outside your window and the morning breeze whistled through the air.

none of which you had time to enjoy or even perceive, because the thing that had jolted you awake was the sound of a fist banging against your bedroom door. you groaned and willed yourself to climb out of bed, grumbling something underneath your breath, and threw the door open exasperatedly.

your mother was standing there in her robe, eyes red. “why didn’t you wash dishes?” 

you fought a groan. that was the first thing to come out of her mouth? really? “wasn’t aware i was supposed to,” you said groggily.

clearly, that wasn’t a satisfactory answer. “i don’t want to wake up to a dirty kitchen. we’ve been over this.”

you could have rolled your eyes at that. then, clean it up yourself, you retorted in your head. it wasn’t like you had made the mess. “you cooked while i wasn’t here and i didn’t have any.” i didn’t think i needed to clean up after you.

“that doesn’t mean shit,” she snapped. “you don’t have a job, you don’t do anything around the house. you need to take some responsibility.”

with that, your mother turned and walked away. 

you closed the door and exhaled through your nose, trying to calm yourself. you had been awake for less than five minutes and she had already managed to piss you off.

and over the most ridiculous thing. it couldn’t have been that hard to clean up after herself instead of trying to make it your problem. maybe you didn’t have a job, but she didn’t either. and the only reason you apparently didn’t do anything around the house was because you never did anything to destroy it in the first place.

and because you very rarely left your room when your mother was there. something about her presence left you on edge. there were many times you went hungry just because you didn’t want to pass her in the living room on the way to the kitchen for a snack. for as long as you could remember, the familiar sound of her bracelets rattling and her sandals tapping the floor had made your heart race.

in the middle of trying to undo your frustration, you thought of something. you had woken up in bed, even though you’d most definitely fallen asleep on the couch with sunghoon, and you had no memory of making the journey upstairs. 

which meant he’d carried you.

your heart fluttered. something about that thought - the thought of a bigger, stronger man carrying you - did unspeakable damage to your brain. you knew he was your stepfather, knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help but picture what else he could do with all that strength. 

it was also worth mentioning that you were very vulnerable when you were just lying there innocently, asleep. he could have done anything to you if he wanted. if only he had wanted it.

almost the whole day had passed when, to your surprise, you had gotten a text from jake inviting you to hang out with him again. you had assumed he’d want time to himself after last night. but you wasted no time in getting ready, doing something different with your usually dolly makeup, and putting on a miniskirt to seem a little more mature.

you had been close to walking out of the front door, hurriedly walking past sunghoon and your mother who were sitting in the living room, until you heard your mother say, “come back. now.”

you slowly grinded to a halt, muttering annoyances to yourself, and forced a smile as you spun on your feet. “yes, mother dearest?”

“where the hell are you going at this time of night looking like a whore?” she asked, snappy.

you tried to take that in stride, but it was hard. she never failed to hurt your feelings.

your mother didn’t even give you the opportunity to respond before she demanded, “take that off.”

you stood your ground. “no.”

your mother looked at you like she wanted to lunge at you. ever since you had turned eighteen, which wasn’t even that long ago, you had gotten bolder. “if you leave wearing that, you’re just begging for it. don’t come crying to me if something happens.”

your eyes stung. how could she say something like that?

sunghoon made a face and put a hand on her shoulder, trying to stop her before she went too far. “doll,” he said to you, taking over. “i know you’re an adult now, but we still want you to be safe. i don’t know where you’re going, but i don’t trust this world enough to honor that wish. can you change, please? for me?”

switching on a dime, you replied meekly, “okay, daddy,” and went back upstairs to change your skirt.

your mother gawked in disbelief. then her expression flashed to anger. “why does she listen to you and not to me?”

“you called her a whore,” sunghoon replied, unsurprised. “i wouldn’t have listened, either.”

“i said she looked like one.”

sunghoon sighed. “that doesn’t make it any better. you know she’s sensitive. either way, you shouldn’t have said that.”

your mother said nothing, sulking. in her mind, it didn’t matter the delivery. she was your mother and she didn’t enjoy being disrespected.

the skirt you changed into was a little longer, at the least halfway down your thighs. you had been quick to change, grateful your bed was still littered in pile of skirts you’d handpicked (and would unfortunately have to clean later), and rushed outside to slide into the passenger seat of jake’s car.

the party he took you to tonight was better than the last one, at least. there were probably still people smoking and partying hard, but jake had you in the kitchen, where thankfully few people were.

jake handed you one of two red plastic cups with some kind of liquid in them. “here you go, baby.”

though you accepted the cup, you looked at it with scrunched brows, then back up at him. “what is this?”

“a mix of things,” jake replied with extreme vagueness. “just try it, sweetheart.”

you didn’t question him, just turning the cup up like it was juice, which you quickly realized couldn’t have been further from the truth. you grimaced, ears and throat burning, and put a hand on your chest. “what the fuck?”

jake furrowed his brows, feigning innocence. “you don’t like it?”

you shook your head. you’d had alcohol before, a few times when you were maybe fifteen and had sneakily took a shot of tequila from your mom’s pantry, but you had grown out of that. plus, you were still underaged in terms of drinking. “no, it burns,” you complained. “i’m not supposed to drink anyway.”

“you have such a stick up your ass,” jake teased, taking the cup from you and throwing back a gulp like it was nothing. he was only a year older than you, nineteen, and had no business drinking, either.

you shook your head in disapproval, though you knew it probably wasn’t much worse than him smoking.

“here,” he said, giving you the other cup he had been holding. this one was clear. “try this one. i think you’ll like it.”

you were reluctant, considering how much you disliked the first one he’d given you, but with how expectantly he was looking at you, you grabbed the cup and took a tentative taste. your eyes widened. it tasted like juice. 

jake chuckled at your reaction. “good, right?”

you nodded, taking another sip. which became another, and another, until your head started to feel a little woozy. by the time you started to recognize it, you were already more than tipsy.

jake hoisted you into his arms like it was nothing and sat you atop the counter, draping his hands over your exposed thighs. “you look so pretty today,” jake mused aloud, admiring your skirt. “you get all cute for me?”

“yeah,” you murmured, eyes fluttering. it was all you could do to keep them open and suddenly, you wanted to go to bed.

“sleepy drunk, aren’t you?” jake asked, moving his hands to your waist to keep you upright. “heeseung’s room is upstairs. wanna go to bed, baby?”

you did, but certainly not here. you were drunk, not stupid. with you and him alone in a closed bedroom, there was no telling what all he would and wouldn’t do. and the fact that it belonged to heeseung only strengthened your hesitation.

“no, it’s okay,” you told him, shaking your head softly. you gingerly pushed yourself off the counter and onto your feet. “i’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

jake grabbed your hand, not wanting to let you loose just yet. “let me help you.”

“it’s okay,” you repeated, brushing him off. your heart thudded, nervous. “stay here.”

jake begrudgingly let you go, watching you disappear in the crowd with his jaw set. you just always managed to evade him, didn’t you?

you stumbled a little at first, but found your balance, making your way through the flock of other drunk partygoers. you gripped the railing for dear life as you climbed up the stairs, searching for the bathroom.

it was by the grace of god that you were able to find it and lock yourself inside without walking in on a couple trying to touch and feel on each other. you sighed in relief, digging around your bag for your phone. you had to get out of here, now.

with two incorrect attempts, you were able to enter your password and immediately went to your contacts, dialing the one person you knew you needed at a time like this. the one person who you could trust would be there for you no matter what.

sunghoon picked up on the second ring, answering, “hello?”

“daddy?”

even if it was only one word, sunghoon could hear in your tone that something wasn’t right. “yes, doll? is something wrong?”

“i think i messed up,” you murmured, grabbing onto the sink counter to stabilize yourself.

sunghoon’s brows stitched with worry, even if you couldn’t see. “what did you do? are you okay? are you hurt?”

“i don’t feel so good right now,” you replied, feeling drowsy. “i drank and i shouldn’t have, and… can you just come pick me up? please.”

you heard shuffling in the background, like he was already moving. “send me your location.”

fifteen minutes later, give or take, sunghoon called you and told you that he was outside.

you grabbed your phone and unlocked the bathroom door, heading straight for the stairs and making a beeline for the front door, wanting to leave before jake could spot you and do more damage. the second you saw your stepfather’s car, you hurried over, nearly tripping over your own legs.

thankfully, you were able to get inside his car without any problems, shutting the door and dragging the seatbelt over you.

sunghoon glanced at you, relieved to see that you were in one piece, but still worried. “are you okay?”

you nodded your head, sighing in relief just as the seatbelt clicked. “i’m okay,” you said, quiet. “thank you.”

sunghoon knew he should have been scolding you for drinking when you were only eighteen, but he was more concerned about your wellbeing at the moment. “why were you drinking?” he asked softly.

you swallowed, knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer, but you had to be honest. “jake gave me a cup and told me to try it.”

sunghoon exhaled, starting the car. if you were going to talk about jake, it was best that he was far, far away from wherever he was. “he’s no good for you, you know that?”

you turned away and looked out the window, eyes watering. 

sunghoon glanced over for a split second and reached out with his right hand, his left one gripping the wheel. “i don’t mean to make you cry, baby. but you know i’ll never lie to you.”

“i know,” you whispered, trying to fight the tears. god, you hated how you couldn’t control them, how they fell at any minor inconvenience and there was nothing you could do to stop them. 

he would never understand; no one could. the reason you went back to jake even though you knew in your heart of hearts that he was just another boy that would never love you. hell, you hardly understood yourself. it was fair, considering you couldn’t say that you loved him either, but you felt something. 

and it was this unidentified something that kept you tied to him like a knot rather than severing the bond. you didn’t love him, no, you hardly trusted him, but you liked him enough. he was your second best. 

though sunghoon’s eyes were on the road, he still had a tender hand on yours, squeezing it firmly. “why do you keep hurting yourself like this, doll? you’re too smart to be fooling around with boys like that.”

“he’s all i have,” you said, your voice feeble. 

sunghoon’s brows furrowed, confused. “that’s not true. you have me, you have your mom, and you have tons of friends and family that love you. what makes you feel like he’s all you have?”

family i feel disconnected from, friends i only show half of myself to, and an emotionally unavailable mother who wants to control my whole life, you thought with a resentment you had been nursing for years. 

you swallowed it down, even though it was bitter and lingered on your tongue, and answered softly, “because sometimes, when he’s not angry, when he’s not smoking or drinking or trying to hook up, when he’s listening to me and looking at me like i mean something to him, i get to feel like he loves me.”

sunghoon didn’t skip a beat. “and how many times is that, baby?”

that hit you like the ceiling crashing down on your chest. all your life, you had just wanted somebody to love you. you had just wanted to feel like you mattered to someone and you had gone through great lengths just to hear it from another person’s mouth. you had always tried.

the only person in the world you never had to try with was your stepfather. the man had gone out of his way, since you were thirteen years old, to treat you like his own. at first, you had wanted nothing to do with him - not to go to his and your mother’s wedding, not to move to his state, and most definitely not to live in his house. you had convinced yourself from a young age that all men were the same.

but sunghoon was nothing like the father that had abandoned you just when you needed him most and left you to deal with your mother who was incapable of expressing any affection to you in a normal, healthy manner. sunghoon was kind, sweet, loving. he was patient with you, spent quality time with you, spoiled you with gifts and listened to your problems. 

all things your father did when you were a little girl, when everything had been okay, once upon a time. 

it was only natural that you found yourself gravitating towards him more often than not, wanting to be around him, wanting to hear his voice, wanting to hold him and spend every waking moment with him. and it was only even more natural that eventually, your heart began to flutter around him. 

but you suppressed it, because you weren’t that dumb. you knew there were no chances of him reciprocating your feelings, not when he loved you with the love of a father. but the nipping void inside you was still there, and it had never felt more empty. 

you knew it would be a bad idea to look at sunghoon, so you kept your eyes fixed on the gleaming towers and lights shimmering on the water as he crossed a bridge. “i know it doesn’t make sense,” you willed yourself to respond. “it doesn’t make sense to me, either.”

for a moment, sunghoon was silent. he may not have understood, but he wanted to deliver his words in the right way. in the end, he chose compassion. “feelings don’t always make sense, especially not right away, and especially not when you’re young and experiencing them for the first time. but that doesn’t mean you have to let them control you.”

arms crossed, you grumbled, “easier said than done.”

“i know it is, doll,” sunghoon whispered. “i know it is.”

something in his tone made you finally turn to face him. your eyes glimmered and you begged, “please, don’t tell mom.”

sunghoon looked conflicted, like he was weighing his options, but he knew what the most effective choice would be. “i won’t, but you can’t keep doing stuff like this, kiddo. it worries me.”

if there was anything you hated, it was that pet name. “i’m not a kid. i’m eighteen.”

“and thirty days,” sunghoon added dryly.

he said that like it meant something. you retorted, “what, are you keeping track?”

“i’m just good at quick math.”

you scoffed. it was probably true, considering all the things you saw him calculating when it came to complicated business things you never understood, but that didn’t make it any better. “okay. how old are you?” you asked knowingly. 

“thirty-nine.”

“what’s thirty-nine minus eighteen?”

“twenty-one,” sunghoon answered without any forethought.

more than twice my age. you knew that. not that it was hard to figure out, but that wasn’t the point. at some point, you had become obsessed with those numbers, crafting a delicate list of reasons why it could never work with your stepfather. the age gap, the marriage, the this and the that. 

but on the other hand, none of those things really mattered to you. you may have still been young, but you were an adult now. a legal adult. 

“besides,” sunghoon continued, seemingly unaware of where your mind had wandered. “i’ll always worry about you, no matter how old you are.”

your heart did exactly what you didn’t want it to do, what you had been trying to fight against for god knows how long now; it soared. 

if you weren’t regretting your night enough already, you definitely were by the time you went inside the house, realizing everything you had to do before you dropped into bed. “god, i have to shower and take off my makeup,” you grumbled, walking with a stammer. 

sunghoon kicked his shoes off by the door and grabbed your hand, lest you fell and hurt yourself. “i’ll help you.”

your eyes flickered in surprise. “you don’t have to do that.”

“it’s okay,” sunghoon replied, already steering you upstairs. “you need some guidance.”

you didn’t know what he meant by that, or maybe you did and you were simply in denial, but you didn’t ask. 

sitting you atop the counter in your bathroom, sunghoon picked out the pack of makeup wipes that were already sitting there and gently began to wipe your face, pushing a stray braid behind your ear. he seemed focused, eyes squinting and his thicks brows furrowing.

you were focused too, watching him intently the entire time. it was difficult to ignore the way your heart raced when he got so close, the way your body seared with heat when he touched your cheek. it wasn’t necessarily even affectionately, which only served to make you more disappointed in yourself.

but sometimes, when you were staring hard enough, much like right now, you noticed more than just how handsome he was. you noticed the little scrunch of his brows when he was concentrating, you noticed the way his chest rose and fell as he breathed. when it was as quiet as it was right now, you could even hear his breathing almost as subtle as the faint scent of cologne on him that had worn throughout the day.

maybe it was somewhat obsessive, but you didn’t do it on purpose. sunghoon made it easy to tune the world out and ignore everything that wasn’t him.

after washing your face, sunghoon grabbed you something to wear and asked, “need anything else, doll?”

“no, daddy. i’ve got it,” you replied, grabbing a towel for your shower. the water was running behind the curtains. “thank you.”

sunghoon grinned softly and bent down to press his lips to your forehead in a tender kiss. “goodnight, baby,” he whispered.

“g’night, daddy.”

the door closed. you hated knowing that you were alone, that he wasn’t right there with you. at times, you got tempted to do things you used to do when you were younger, crawling into bed with him in the middle of the night, but it wouldn’t be appropriate. no matter how much you hated being separated.

you usually liked to milk time with him for all that it was worth, especially because he was always working. you stole the seat beside him at the dinner table, you watched him mend items in the house, and you spent a lot of time on the couch of his study when he was taking calls and doing paperwork. 

once you had gotten redressed after your shower, you slipped into bed with a sigh. there was always tomorrow.

the cereal boxes were pushed too far back again. 

you couldn’t reach them. even standing on your tippy toes, waving your hand aimlessly in hope of even scraping the damn corner of a box of cinnamon toast crunch, they were just too far. “ugh,” you whined, irritated.

sunghoon watched. his eyes were less on your challenging endeavor and more on the swell of your ass peeking from underneath your tiny nightgown as you rose off the heels of your feet onto your toes, noticing the way it jiggled when you stood normally again. there was a pang of guilt in his chest, watching you like that, but at the end of the day, sunghoon was just a man.

“i’ll get it,” sunghoon insisted, standing up from the bar to swing over without even having to ask which one you wanted. he routinely saw you only eat the same cereal.

you thanked him when he grabbed the box of cinnamon toast crunch and placed it securely into your hands. walking over to the counter where the milk and bowl were waiting, you noticed sunghoon come up behind you. at first, you thought he was just watching for whatever reason, so you ignored the thud in your chest at his proximity and poured the cereal. 

then, you carefully grabbed the milk, not wanting to spill it accidentally. you had been guilty of that before. without warning, his hands dropped below your waist and cupped your cheeks, making your eyes go wide. “daddy,” you gasped out, bemused. “what are you doing?”

sunghoon shushed you, giving your neck a fleeting kiss before he shifted his attention back downwards, pushing your nightgown up so that it would bunch around your hips. “quiet,” he whispered.

“daddy, the milk,” you whined, having lost control of your grip when he touched you, catching you by surprise. 

most of it had spilled out of its container, the bowl overflowing with streams of milk dripping off the counter that would stink if not cleaned soon enough. but some of it had splashed onto your face, chest and tummy. “shh,” sunghoon repeated. “don’t worry about it. you can milk something else.”

your face warmed in realization just as he began to press himself against you from behind, and the very big, very hard bulge in his pants made your mouth run dry.

or maybe it was the morning breath. because you woke up, sighing quietly at first, and turned to stretch your arm from underneath your blankets.

“what the fuck,” you grumbled a few minutes later when it dawned on you exactly what kind of dream you’d just had. 

sure, you’d had dreams about sunghoon before, but they were nothing to write home about; they were entirely random and didn’t make logical sense, or they were simple and mundane, and very often, you didn’t realize they were dreams at first because they were so realistic that they could have been memories.

that was definitely a dream. you couldn’t imagine sunghoon doing anything like that to you. well, you certainly could, but that wasn’t the point. it wasn’t realistic whatsoever, other than him extending himself to help you.

it made you horny to think about. everything about the dream had physically felt so real to you; sunghoon’s hands on your ass, his bulge pressing against you from behind, and his warmth radiating onto you hotly enough to make you melt.

part of you was tempted to go back to bed, ignoring the faint chirps of birds outside your window and the light reaching through white and pink curtains. if only you could have stayed asleep a little longer, just to see how it ended. if only sunghoon would have ever felt that way about you too, then maybe it could become true.

but he wouldn’t. and even if he somehow did, sunghoon was at work by now. so you did the one you never thought you would do. 

“hello?” jake said when he picked up the phone. 

your heart sped. you were about to propose something that you were none too sure about, but something had to be done about the festering ache between your legs. your fingers weren’t satisfying you anymore; they hadn’t in years. “jake,” you whispered. “hi.”

“hi,” jake repeated dryly, wondering what you wanted. you could hear in his tone that he still wasn’t particularly thrilled about last night.

you swallowed the lump in your throat. “i’m sorry for running away last night,” you murmured. “i didn’t want to abandon you like that. i was just… scared.”

jake made a noise, but it was so quiet and distorted that you couldn’t decide what to make of it. “you were scared,” he replied, echoing your words again.

you gave a deep, prolonged exhale. you knew that you were running out of time with him, that one day, he would grow sick of your excuses and your stalling. “i knew that… you were trying to have sex,” you explained. “and i didn’t… i didn’t feel comfortable. i was drunk. and then you said we were going to heeseung’s room, and i got even more worried.”

“why?”

“i don’t like heeseung,” you admitted, although you thought it would be obvious by now. “he looks at me weird.”

“baby,” jake sighed. you could hear how frustrated he was. “heeseung’s not gonna hurt you. he just likes to have a little fun. but if it makes you feel better, i’ll try to keep him in line.”

you were only half relieved. “thank you.”

“now, is that why you called me? to tell me heeseung makes you uncomfortable?” he asked. 

“no,” you stammered, playing with the hem of your shirt in attempt to distract yourself from your nerves. “there’s something else i wanted to tell you.”

“what is it, sweetheart?”

you blurted, “i think i’m ready.”

you could practically feel jake perk up. “like, seriously?” he asked, stunned. 

“yeah,” you replied, but it weak. there was a bit of regret in your chest when the word left your mouth, but you tried to swallow it down and keep it there. “i’m ready, jake. right now.”

jake was ruffling through something, probably his drawer. “shit,” he said, excited. you wondered if his heart was beating even half as fast as yours was. “where are you right now?”

“home.”

“can i come over?”

“yeah,” you muttered again. he lived far enough that you had time to wash up a little and get your mind together. “my dad is at work and my mom probably won’t be home until later. it’s just me.”

“i’m on the way,” jake said without missing a beat, quickly hanging up. 

you took a deep breath, trying to relax yourself. jake was your boyfriend. you were supposed to call him when you had needs; itches that needed scratching.

it was a conflict that had been warring in your mind for weeks, maybe subconsciously months. on the one hand, your lust was only centered around sunghoon and you were afraid of having sex with jake for more reasons than one. but on the other, the human desire for release had ran to a peak and now it was unignorable, your body begging to be satiated.

you knew what the most prudent choice would have been: dumping jake, getting over these unrational feelings for your stepfather, and no longer settling for men that treated you as less than what you deserved. but what did you look like being alone again, waiting for someone to decide they loved you, especially when your heart belonged to someone who could never be yours?

clearly, you were in no way in the position to make prudent choices. not when the need burning inside you outweighed the reason.

time went by faster than you thought, considering that jake didn’t particularly live nearby. you had spent the better half of that time in your own head, wondering what would happen, and the sound of the doorbell ringing jolted you out of your thoughts.

your heart was pounding with all its might as you made deliberately slow, steadys steps down the stairs and to the front door where you knew jake would be waiting. seeing his face when you opened the door only made you more anxious.

jake, on the other hand, beamed when he saw you. you weren’t sure if you had ever seen him smile at you like that before. “hey, baby,” he greeted, stepping inside.

“hi,” you murmured, shutting the door behind him.

jake coiled his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest. his alluring, familiar scent put you at ease a little more. “i missed you,” he whispered, fingers sliding underneath your shirt to draw patterns on your navel, almost as if he could sense your need for comfort. “you ran off on me last night.”

your smile was sheepish as you apologized again, “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay. i know why you did it,” jake said, glancing around as you led him out of the foyer little by little. “i just realized i’ve never been inside your house.”

that was not only true, but intentional; for obvious reasons, you didn’t want to be in the house with jake by yourself, but you also didn’t want him around your parents, either. your mother would find some way to embarrass you and the few times sunghoon and jake had met, there was strange tension in the air.

based on your mother’s behavioral patterns and those interactions alone, you had made the unilateral decision that it would be better for everyone involved if you kept your relationship with jake outside. “yeah,” you said, happy to think about anything but what was to come. “it’s better that way, don’t you think?”

jake chuckled, nodding his head. when he saw the stairs, he instinctively started heading that way. “yeah. i don’t think your dad likes me very much.”

“he’s just protective,” you replied, although you remembered sunghoon telling you outright that he didn’t like your boyfriend. 

“you don’t need protecting from me,” jake told you, slipping his hand down from your navel to your hand as you started up the steps. “have you been telling him mean things about me?”

define mean, was what you answered in your head. if anything, you had probably described jake too kindly, too gently. he had never hurt you, at least in the sense that he had never put his hands on you, but he was aggressive in other, more hurtful ways. “no, i told him the truth.”

“and what’s the truth?”

“that i love you,” you lied. “and i want to do this with you.”

jake looked like the happiest man alive, and something told you that it was unusual for him to be more enthusiastic in this moment than almost any other moment he’d spent with just the two of you. but the fear that had kept you close to him for so long was the same fear that had held you apart, and it was the same fear telling you to be silent.

but when jake opened the door to your bedroom, his face fell. “what’s all this?” 

your brows furrowed. “…my bedroom?”

“yours?” jake echoed, apparently appalled as he scanned your bedroom from left to right. 

the main culprit, however, seemed to be the miscellaneous plushies thrown about your bed. “oh,” you whispered, confused. your mother had found it childish and voiced her unwanted opinion every now and then, but you never thought it was so bad. 

jake scoffed, “what are you, thirteen? i’m not fucking you on that.”

“but, jake,” you started, noticing him turning back around. your stomach churned. he was leaving. 

shaking his head, jake threw the door open and said, “you really have to grow up, baby.”

you followed him, frantic. you knew he could your footsteps as you trailed behind him down the stairs, but he didn’t bother turning around, as if he had already decided he didn’t want to see you anymore. “jake, please don’t go,” you begged.

he didn’t listen. he didn’t even look at you, not until he made it to the front door and said, “goodbye,” followed by your name. then, he walked out the door, passing your mother on his way out.

as if this afternoon couldn’t get any worse.

as soon your mother stepped through the door, looking like she had been awake for the past twelve hours doing god knows what, she went, “really? you turn eighteen and think you can just do whatever you want? why the hell are you bringing boys over?” 

you were already on the verge of tears and you didn’t have the strength to put up with her, so for the first time in your life, you chose to walk away. she called after you, demanding you to come back, but you ignored it and raced upstairs to your bedroom.

it hurt more than it should have, watching jake leave like that, watching him go despite your pleas. maybe because it felt all too familiar. your brain recognized the feeling belligerently attacking you and your heart weakly surrendered to it, still too broken.

maybe you were always too broken, maybe that was why they never stayed. this is what men do, you told yourself through hot, wet tears. they take what they want, and then when it becomes even a little too much for them, they leave. nothing will change that. they won’t change themselves.

sitting alone by yourself in your closed bedroom with only your stuffed toys to bear witness to your suffering, it still felt humiliating. you had already come to the conclusion that what you felt for jake was not love, at least not of a romantic nature. and yet for the life of you, you couldn’t wrap your head around why it still hurt so bad.

it was a dizzying, throbbing ache that only persisted the longer you sat on the carpeted floor, weeping. for a fleeting moment, you were twelve again, old enough to recognize your first heartbreak but not enough to put a name to it. you remembered like it was yesterday, watching your father’s back as he walked out of the door, hauling the last of what he would bring with him into his new life, and leaving you in the old chapter.

there was a certain shape of hopelessness that you’d molded into, the loud, petty arguments and traded hits culminating in the few seconds it took to realize that you didn’t mean as much as a toothbrush, a watch, a box of wrenches or an old, wrinkled tee. because if you had, maybe he would have taken you, too.

and maybe if you meant more to jake than what was between your legs, he would still be here now. denying him sex for so long made you feel powerful; he was wrapped around your finger at some point, submissive, so to speak, and willing to do anything with the hopes that you would give it up. you took advantage of that. you used him so that for once in your life, you could feel wanted and in control.

and as you had ultimately come to expect, your woeful thoughts soon wandered to the greatest manifestation of your desires so far: sunghoon. it only seemed just that the world would taunt and tantalize you with the most perfect man you’d ever known, the only one you could ever trust with your heart. 

the cards had been dealt so that you had just enough access to admire how much of a dream he was, but not enough to let you slip away; you could doze off, vaguely picturing what it would be like in a world where the steep heights and pitless hollows of your affection could be reciprocated, but every time, you would be jolted back awake.

the more you thought about it, there had to be a reason why you seemed to want things more after coming to find there was no feasible way you could make them yours - because you wanted control. 

control, particularly over your own life, was something you had long wanted yet long been denied. you wanted to be able to make decisions for yourself without having your circumstances be shaped around the decisions of others. you didn’t want to suffer the consequences of a choice you had no say in. you wanted to reap what was rightfully yours. 

seeing someone like sunghoon, someone that you knew you could never have, only made him attractive tenfold. until now, you never noticed how this manifested similarly in other parts of your life, like in your overwhelming urge to prove yourself. to be the adult it seemed like everyone doubted you could be.

that’s why it’s so hard for me to accept denial and handle rejection, you rationalized as you peeled yourself off the floor and onto your bed, having finally stopped sobbing. because i’ve been denied simple pleasures my whole life, and yet people try to deny me even more.

thinking back to the little girl you once were, the one that was full of life and imagination, the one that foolishly had hoped her mother and father would stay together, the one that was innocent and naive, and knew nothing about how brutal reality truly was, you couldn’t help but burst into tears all over again.

because that little girl didn’t deserve to have to grow up so quickly. if you could have undone it all, if you could have spared that little girl the trauma of crying herself to sleep as she heard her parents arguing down the hall, if you could have stopped her dad from leaving for years, if you could have stopped her mom from inviting man to man into her life, you would have done it in a heartbeat.

and then there was the part of you that had always craved romance, the part of you that remained unfulfilled. combining this lifelong grapple with control with an unattainable lover, it was no secret why you wanted to prove the stars wrong. 

just this once, you wanted to know that you deserved good things too.

after a long moment of drifting between the sickness in your mind that had been infecting  your thoughts, you eventually cried yourself to sleep. it was something you hadn’t done in years, but when you woke up, you almost felt better.

you dragged yourself out of bed and slipped on your house shoes, trudging downstairs while mumbling prayers about how you hoped you wouldn’t bump into your mother. you knew she would give you an earful about earlier. 

to your surprise, rather than your mother, sunghoon was in the kitchen. he turned when he heard your heavy footsteps. “hey, doll,” he said, shutting the refrigerator.

you grumbled a response and waved weakly, moving past the island so that you could join him near the refrigerator. you would have opened it yourself, but sunghoon beat you to it, handing you a water.

when your eyes widened a little in surprise, sunghoon snickered and asked, “what else do you drink?”

he had a good point there. it was rare you drank anything but water in the house, not that you had a specific reason for it. it was just a habit you hadn’t broken. “and what if i was hungry?” you asked playfully, accepting the water from his hands.

“you wouldn’t have touched the refrigerator, because you always get everything delivered.”

you gasped in mock offense. “hey, i cook sometimes!”

sunghoon chuckled. “yes, you do, doll. but i know not to expect you to cook anything if you look like you just crawled out of bed.”

you hummed, sitting down at the island and twisting the cap off the water. you didn’t realize how long you had been asleep, but it had to have been a while if sunghoon was home. 

sunghoon followed you, sitting beside you. he didn’t say anything for a minute, wanting to carefully think over his words so that they came out as intended. “i went up to your room earlier to talk to you about something, but you were sleeping, so i left you alone.”

you glanced over at him, finishing your swig before you asked, “talk about what?”

“your mother wants me to address your… disobedience, as she puts it,” sunghoon started levelly. 

you sighed, slamming your head against the counter. of course, she did. “i guess she told you jake was here earlier?”

“she did.”

you were almost certain that that woman just didn’t want you to breathe. she had been able to control you less and less over the years, and the more you resisted, the more determined she seemed. like mother, like daughter. “well, it’s your house. if you don’t want me to have boys over, then fine, i respect that. but she doesn’t have the right to police me.”

“it’s not just the boy,” sunghoon replied, although he had his own set of grievances about that. “she feels like you’re becoming rebellious in general.”

you almost rolled your eyes. “and why couldn’t she tell me that herself?”

sighing, sunghoon said, “because she pointed out that you only seem to listen to me, not her.”

“yeah, because it’s surprising i’m more inclined to obey someone who knows how to have an actual conversation than someone who just wants to yell and doesn’t care to hear me,” you retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm. “daddy, she’s been trying to control my life since forever. i’m sick of it.”

“i know how you feel, doll, but you haven’t exactly been making smart choices lately, either,” sunghoon answered gently, resting a hand on your knee. “like your boyfriend, for example.”

“i told you, i don’t like him.”

sunghoon didn’t skip a beat. “and i asked you, why are you dating him, then?”

“god, you just don’t get it,” you grumbled, opening your water bottle to take another large gulp.  

“then, explain it to me,” sunghoon said gently, eyes meeting yours with a reservoir of adoration. “make me get it. i’m here to listen to you, baby girl. i want to understand you, but i can’t do that if you don’t let me in.”

but you couldn’t let him in, not that far, because then he would see something that startled him. it was easier to break your own heart over and over than it was to risk his opinion of you changing, all for some closure. “i don’t want to talk about it.”

sunghoon heaved a breath. he absolutely despised when you froze him out. he wasn’t stupid; he noticed that you were only this less forthcoming when it came to the topic of your boyfriend that he couldn’t understand for the life of him why you kept seeing. every time he thought he’d had a productive conversation with you about him, sunghoon heard something else about that boy.

something more infuriating than the last.

you stood up from the barstool, an idle box of cereal on top of the refrigerator catching your eye as you did, and you remembered the dream you’d had about him that inspired everything to happen today. “i love you, daddy,” you whispered, throwing your arms around him. “thank you for trying.”

“i’ll always try,” sunghoon told you, voice featherlight.

you believed him, you truly did, but it hurt to think that he was the only man that would ever say that to you and mean it. “i know.”

sunghoon placed a hand on his shoulder before you could leave, hoping to get one more sentence in. “i know it’s not easy for you, doll, but can you try to appease your mother every now and then? for me?”

you stifled a sigh, nodding your head. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do, daddy,” you murmured.

sunghoon smiled softly and pat your shoulder.

for the next couple of days, you pathetically waited by your phone, hoping to hear from jake again. normally, he would text you the day or two after an unresolved argument, apologizing profusely until you gave him a satisfactory answer.

or in other words, until you forgave him. but on the third day, you knew something was wrong. you hadn’t even argued, and yet he was ignoring your existence as if you had committed the most unjustifiable crime against humanity ever recorded.

this is really it, you thought fretfully, heart swelling with dread. he doesn’t want me anymore.

you tried to act like it didn’t hurt, like he didn’t wield this immense power over you, but you knew you were lying to yourself. and that jake had lied to you. he had said that you could never disappoint him, after all, but you were fairly certain that ship had sailed.

it was half past noon when you noticed a notification on your phone from one of your friends, an attachment with a text that read, hey, did you break up with jake? just asking because someone sent me a photo of him kissing another girl yesterday night.

surely enough, the attached image was of jake swallowing some other girl’s face, blurry in quality, but you knew your boyfriend’s face when you saw it. he had his hands round her waist, holding her close exactly like how he’d held you, only it seemed like it’d been so long since he’d touched you like that.

only one minute ago, you had been convinced that you had no more tears left to cry. staring at the image, pieces of your wounded heart dropping heavily to your stomach, you didn’t realize you were crying until the phone went black by itself and you faintly saw your reflection in its screen, mirroring you.

whatever had happened between you and jake the other day, you didn’t consider it a breakup. it was your understanding that you were still together, given that he hadn’t necessarily said something to indicate the opposite. maybe you were mistaken, but that didn’t make it feel like anything less of a betrayal.

but to call it a betrayal implied some level of trust, a level deeper than you thought you had possessed. your feelings for jake were complicated, but you knew that you had trusted him not to stab you in the back the second it was turned. you had trusted him to take care of you, to protect you. you had trusted him not to hurt you.

now that you thought about it, you weren’t sure why. the past couple of weeks alone had been hell, his advances becoming more frequent than ever now that you had turned eighteen, and he had always shown signs of wavering. but you ignored them. you were desperate to fill the void left behind by every man you’d ever loved.

torn from head to toe with the sting of emotion, you pushed open your bedroom door and went straight for your parents room. fortunately, it was empty, neither of them home to watch you sulk; the last thing you wanted was for your stepfather to see you sobbing over a boy he hated, and for your mother to say that she told she so.

the first place you touched was the closet, where you knew sunghoon kept his hoodies. you missed him. you missed him in ways you’d never genuinely known him, or felt him, or possessed him. perhaps it would have made more sense to say that you longed for him, but in your heart, those moments you’d dreamt of felt real sometimes.

taking one of his cozy, black hoodies down from where they hung, you hurriedly threw it on, quickly engulfed by its size. it was comforting. the smell was, too. if you closed your eyes, you could pretend that sunghoon was there, holding you in his arms and whispering in your ear that everything would be okay in the end.

you pinched the loose material of the hoodie that was dropping around your body as you sat on the floor and held it to your nose, eyes fluttering closed. he had been wearing it around the house a lot lately. you were very fond of the way he smelled. it was heavenly and masculine, but also safe and familiar.

it was uniquely his own, and, breathing in the scent of sunghoon, you exhaled calmly, pretending that he could want you.

his scent had another effect on you, too. it made you feral, to say the least. though you were mostly used to it, when you saw him for the first time after a while, it made you feel like a ferocious animal, hungry with lust and ready to pounce.

for a moment, you tried to be stronger. you tried to pull yourself together and remind yourself that this man was your stepfather, the man who was married to your mother. but the shame could only contend with the gravity of want for so long until one finally emerged triumphant.

you pulled the hoodie over your head and stared at it for a second, like you were giving yourself one final chance to not do something you’d regret, but lust prevailed over reason.

with nothing to hold you back, you wiggled out of your favorite pair of tiny house shorts, temporarily tossing them aside. you grabbed a hold of the hoodie and bunched it into shape between your thighs, slowly rocking your hips into it.

your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to think of something that would help get you off, every thought you were capable of developing revolving around your stepfather. what most of them had in common, however, was the vivid picture of sunghoon on top of you, weight crushing you hard as he rutted into you nice and deep.

it was too arousing to think about, what he would feel like buried so many inches deep inside you, face tensing as he fucked you with total abandon. you wanted him to lose self restraint, to whisper in your ear that he loved you, that he wanted you, that he needed you. and only you.

your needy hips moved faster. the muscles in your thighs were spasming, your whole body alive with the sparks of desire that were killing you slowly. breathy pants escaped your mouth, your jaw slacking as your body worked harder to exhale. you couldn’t breathe through the thick, muddled haze of your uncontrollable hunger.

how could you? the mere sight of sunghoon made your heart hammer sometimes, because it knew what it wanted. your entire body, at this point, knew what it wanted, but more importantly, it knew what it needed. you couldn’t shake the idea that sunghoon was good for you. that he was meant for you.

maybe thinking of sunghoon as some exquisite gift sent from the gods as a reward for enduring so much in so little time, rather than a titillating manifestation of everything you wanted but could never have, was merely an extreme sign of desperate coping, but you couldn’t help yourself. you deserved him, more than your mother ever would.

you could make him feel so good, if he only gave you the chance. if he only let loose for a moment and let himself indulge in the wonders between your legs that called out for him and sang his name. you didn’t know what you were thinking, almost letting another man claim what was so surely his, even if he didn’t know it yet.

one of your hands pushed up your skirt and you squeezed your breasts, imagining it was sunghoon’s bigger, stronger hand instead. your hips were now moving with a mind of their own, rough pants getting louder, and you thought of sunghoon touching you with just as much fervor and need. it felt more like you were hoping.

the heat in your core finally reached its peak and you orgasmed with a shaky moan, trying to milk the high for all it was worth, but the relief disappeared just as quickly as it had come. you sighed, hole throbbing emptily, and you inspected the hoodie for any signs of your arousal leaking through your underwear.

you pushed it aside and lied down on the floor, catching your breath as you tried to shake the guilt. you hated how much of a slave you were to this insatiable need, sinning in return for only a fleeting second of relief. but more than that, you hated settling. if you had it your way, sunghoon would have been fucking you every night.

the thought made your thighs clench against each other. sometimes, you foolishly hoped sunghoon would come into your room at night and ravage you in your sleep, fucking you awake. you knew he was so tired when he came home from work. he deserved to come home to a young, tight hole. and he deserved to use it whenever he wanted, however he wanted.

knees kicking up, your eyes shifted underneath your parents’ bed, and you noticed something hidden underneath. your curiosity got the better of you and you reached out to grab it. a tiny box came into your hands, and for a moment, you just looked at it, wondering what was inside.

there was no better way to find out than having a look yourself. you figured it was sunghoon’s, given that it was on his side of the bed, and that knowledge only made you want to open it more; you were itching to know everything about him.

your brows furrowed when you opened the box. the first thing you saw was a picture of a teenaged girl, maybe about thirteen or fourteen. you were confused about why he had it, but there were more pictures stacked beneath. the more you glanced through them, the more you realized she looked a little too much like sunghoon.

those cute, deep dimples, his deep, honey eyes, and his peachy, plump lips. you gasped, coming to only one reasonable conclusion: this was his daughter. but if true, why had you never seen her, or heard him speak about her?

you had to assume that he loved her. for one, he was keeping pictures and belongings of her beneath his bed. other than the photos, you saw a necklace with an initial that wasn’t his own, a charm bracelet, a bottle of feminine perfume and other items. a part of you felt like this was something you weren’t supposed to see, and out of respect, you put everything back just as you had found it and slid the box underneath the bed.

it felt like a violation of privacy and there was a pang of regret in your chest, but you couldn’t help but have questions. though sunghoon would be coming home later than usual tonight, so even if you somehow mustered the courage to ask him, it would be a while before you got the opportunity.

you reached out to grab your shorts and put them back on. the only thing left for you to take care of was sunghoon’s hoodie, which you weren’t sure what to do with. you could have put it back as if nothing had ever happened, but you would have felt bad if you didn’t wash it.

so, you did. mostly everything you did from that point on was to distract yourself from thinking about sunghoon. every now and then, you remembered what had happened with jake and there was a throbbing ache in your chest, but you pushed the thoughts away. 

it was easier to think about sunghoon, to wonder how many things you really knew about him, this man that had taken on the role of father for the past five years of your life. after all, it was never him coming to you for advice on life, but you supposed that made sense. he was older than you, had gone through many of the things you were experiencing for the first time, and had the benefit of hindsight.

still, you were curious about him and the many years that had shaped him into the person he was now. were they kind? every person had their fair share of hardships and encounters with adversity, at least in some fashion, but you hoped he’d had it relatively easy. you knew what it was like to suffer and you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy, much less him.

the efforts to distract yourself went on for so long that you even ended up making dinner, considering that your mother wasn’t home for whatever reason and you figured sunghoon would be hungry when he came back; you were hungry, and you hadn’t even done anything but think about him excessively.

like clockwork, sunghoon came in through the foyer and went to the kitchen, spotting you putting the finishing touches on dinner. “you’re cooking?”

you laughed at his surprise and nodded your head, turning off the stove. “i’m basically finished now,” you chirped, donning oven mittens. “i told you, i cook sometimes.”

sunghoon leaned against the counter, watching you take a pan out of the oven. “smells good,” he commented, humming in approval. “is your mother home?”

“nope,” you replied, setting the pan down on the stove. you had no idea where she was, nor did you care as long as she was safe.

“mm.”

you turned around to face sunghoon, taking a deeper look at him. he looked tired, exhausted even. you knew he would always deny how bad it was, though. “hungry?”

sunghoon bobbed his head and set a hand on his stomach. “starving.”

you and sunghoon sat down at the table beside each other and ate dinner, talking in between bites. your heart warmed to see how delighted he was while eating, the smile on his face at the first spoonful putting one on yours. your relationship with your mother had always been strained, but you had to thank her for teaching you how to cook.

while you had contemplated bringing up what you had seen earlier during dinner, every time you tried willing yourself to mention it to sunghoon, you got nervous and didn’t follow through. it wasn’t like it was something you were supposed to know about and you knew that by mentioning it, you would be telling on yourself.

not only that, but you didn’t know how sunghoon would feel about telling you about it, or if he would even want to talk about it. the last thing you wanted to do was overstep your boundaries, which was something you probably had already done the second you went into his bedroom and pried into his personal belongings.

after the dishes were washed, something sunghoon volunteered to help you take care of, you followed him into the living room where he usually went to relax after work. you managed to stay quiet for all of fifteen minutes before the guilt overwhelmed you and you apologized, “i’m sorry.”

sunghoon turned his attention way from the television to look at you, brows furrowing. “for what?”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. you could have gotten away with it, but it didn’t feel right not to mention. “i went into your room today.”

sunghoon didn’t mind you being in his bedroom, but it was unusual that you were there when you had your own. “why?”

you smiled anxiously, fidgeting with your hands. that was the important part. you left out what you had done with the hoodie, deciding he didn’t need to know that. “i just did,” you replied, your voice quiet. “but that’s not the part i’m apologizing for. i saw something under your bed. and, i looked through it.”

sunghoon’s face changed, something more melancholy tensing his features. “oh.”

“i’m sorry,” you repeated, faint. the look on his face made you feel even more guilty than you already had.

sunghoon pat the top of your head, as if he knew that you needed the reassurance. “it’s okay,” he said, smiling thinly. “i guess you have questions now, don’t you?”

you nodded reluctantly. those questions were essentially all you had thought about it since you discovered that box underneath his bed. “i do, but… you don’t need to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“it’s alright,” sunghoon replied, exhaling. that shroud of melancholy was still hanging over him. “she was my daughter.”

your heart stopped. “…was?”

for a moment, sunghoon was silent and he didn’t immediately respond. you wondered if you had said the wrong thing, overthinking everything you were doing. he exhaled yet another breath and replied, “she passed away six years ago. car accident.”

that explained everything, but now you felt worse than you had before and it was killing you. “daddy…”

it looked like it pained him to talk about it, but he did it anyway. “i was married before i met your mother,” he explained. “everything was good. we had a few problems, but hey, no marriage is completely perfect. my ex-wife took our daughter out and they were coming back home when they got into a car accident. she wasn’t paying attention. she lived; our daughter didn’t.”

you were silent. you didn’t know what to say.

tensing a little, sunghoon continued, “we had a divorce because i blamed her, and i couldn’t stand to be around her anymore. i don’t think i can ever forgive her for being so reckless.”

“i wish that never happened to you, daddy. you didn’t deserve that,” you said compassionately.

“you lost someone, too.”

the thought of your father left a sour taste, and to be frank, you never wanted to think about him again. “yeah, my dad left me, but at least the bastard’s still alive. if i wanted to talk to him, i could. but you don’t have that option.”

sunghoon’s eyes flitted over you and he reached out to push your hair out of your face. “that’s why i want to protect you, doll. you mean more to me than you will ever know.”

there your heart went again, acting a fool at the smallest words and actions. “you mean a lot to me, too.”

after much internal wavering, sunghoon reluctantly confessed, “i was never going to tell you this, but when i met your mother, part of what i liked about her was that she had a daughter. just a year younger than my daughter would be. and i wanted her back. i wanted her back so badly. so to me, it felt like god was giving me a second chance.”

your eyes flickered. you had always wondered what it was he liked about your mother in the first place. they made a strange pair; he seemed so different from her type, and his personality was much softer than hers. “really?”

“that’s why i tried so hard in the beginning to grow on you. even though it couldn’t have been more obvious that you didn’t want anything to do with me,” he told you lightheartedly. 

you giggled, remembering how much you had been against your mother getting married to this man you barely knew. “you’re a great father,” you whispered. “thank you for not giving up halfway.”

“i’ll never give up on you.”

you were beaming. “i know.”

this conversation had taken a different direction than you had initially expected, but ultimately, you were happy with it. you had been so afraid of him getting upset with you, and though it would have been justified, you knew rationally that it just wasn’t in his nature.

at least, not when it came to you. you had noticed the anger bristling within him when he spoke of the mother of his child; it made you angry on his behalf. but even then, sunghoon’s anger was nothing like the kind you had grown up surrounded with. it wasn’t loud, aggressive, or dangerous. it was quiet, composed, restrained. 

much like the rest of him.

in the time that you had spent thinking about sunghoon’s life and all the secrets it contained, you had figured something out about yourself. “i’m going to break up with jake,” you announced.

though he didn’t expect the topic change, sunghoon couldn’t hide his relief. “what took you so long?”

you chuckled, because that was a good question, to be fair. “well, for one, at least to my knowledge, he hadn’t cheated on me until now,” you retorted.

the anger was back, only this time, you swore it had a more hostile air to it than ever. “he did what?” sunghoon exclaimed.

you shrugged your shoulders. it wasn’t that it didn’t bother you, because it did. come to think about it, it mostly hurt because you would have never done the same thing to him, no matter how much you lusted after your stepfather. 

taking a deep, frustrated breath, you explained, “yeah. long story short, when he came over the other day, it was because i had agreed to have sex with him. but when he saw my room for the first time, he basically called me childish and said he wasn’t doing it there. then he marched out.”

sunghoon shook his head, but he wasn’t surprised. at least you had enough self-respect to end it now. he was starting to become afraid that he would need to shake some sense into you.

jake had served a purpose. he was unbelievably handsome, undoubtedly smart, and told you everything that you wanted to hear. he distracted you from what you were really after, and in return, you ignored what he was really after.

there was a large part of you that felt ashamed for lying to yourself for so long. but now you were being honest. you owed yourself that much. “i was so stupid. part of the reason i didn’t want to have sex with him was because i wanted him to stay, and i wasn’t sure if he would still choose me afterwards. i was scared he would get what he wanted and leave. but the reason i agreed to have sex with him was because i could feel him getting bored and pulling away. and in the end, he left me anyway.”

you had already decided you weren’t going to hold it against him, because you were both guilty of something. you had lied to each other, taken advantage of each other, and bled dry each other. both of you had tried to force something that was never really there. you would never forgive him for cheating, but you could understand him leaving.

sunghoon listened intently, watching your face as you talked about your relationship and what went wrong. he picked out his words, not wanting to be blinded by his lack of disappointment. “you’re not stupid for wanting someone to like you.”

your eyes met his. i want you to like me, you thought to yourself, wishful. “am i stupid for staying even though i knew deep down that it wasn’t really me that he liked?”

“no, doll,” sunghoon replied gently, bracing a hand on your knee. “you’re just disillusioned.”

you chuckled. “you sure you’re not just saying that?”

sunghoon squeezed your knee, giving you comfort that he knew you needed. it would be complicated, you already knew, coping with your feelings for him now that you wouldn’t have jake’s shenanigans to distract you. not that they really ever helped. “you’re young. even your mind has a mind of its own. i think it’s only stupid if you make the same mistake twice.”

you hummed, knowing that that probably wouldn’t be happening. you weren’t the type of person to jump from relationship to relationship. you were too afraid of abandonment for that. you could only handle so many of them before you snapped.

as sunghoon looked at you, he couldn’t help but feel guilty, thinking maybe he should have done more to keep you safe from a boy like that. but you were an adult now, and he was trying to give you the space to take care of yourself on your own. “did you ever really like jake?” he asked after a pause. 

“i think i just liked feeling wanted,” you murmured, ashamed of your own stupidity.

sunghoon let that sink in. he knew you had been dealing with certain insecurities for years, and the thought that he still had yet been able to help you made him feel worthless. “what kind of boyfriend do you want?”

there was a lull of silence as you thought about it thoroughly. you had liked jake because you thought he could be everything you should have wanted, but he wasn’t necessarily your type. “someone who’s tender,” you decided, something jake selectively was. “someone who’s assertive, protective, and takes care of me.”

“mm.”

your heart was racing, but somehow you found the courage to add, “someone like you.”

sunghoon tried to rationalize that, he truly did. in his mind, the idea of wanting someone who embodied the traits of a strong father figure was a perfectly normal desire. but he wasn’t an idiot, and he could hear everything you didn’t say, and recognize the sudden change in your body language.

because you didn’t want a boyfriend; you wanted a father.

sighing, sunghoon relaxes his eyes for a second before he opens them again, taking in how fragile you appear and feel beneath his heavy hands. “doll, you’re my daughter.”

“stepdaughter,” you corrected in a heartbeat.

sunghoon ignored you, continuing, “and you’re so young.”

“i’m eighteen,” you replied, heart thudding so fast you couldn’t stay still. “i’m an adult.”

sunghoon didn’t seem pleased, or convinced for that matter. it was as you feared; he would always see you as this little girl that needed saving. “you may legally be an adult,” sunghoon started, quiet. “but mentally, you are still a little girl.”

that stung. you never knew sunghoon was capable of it until now, but he had really burned you with such few words. your eyes even burned with the threat of tears. “if that’s how you feel,” you murmured, standing up from the sofa.

sunghoon softened, immediately regretting having ever said anything. “doll, wait.”

you didn’t, making a beeline straight for the stairs. you weren’t sure what you were expecting. he thought of himself as your father and he was married to your mother. why would he see you like that?

why did you see him like that?

to make matters worse, sunghoon didn’t follow you. you didn’t turn around, but the lack of footsteps behind you wasn’t lost on your ears. pretending it didn’t bother you, you went to your bedroom, shut the door, and dropped on your bed.

maybe you should have been grateful that your biggest problem in life was unreciprocated feelings. you knew there were all too many things you had to be grateful for, especially things sunghoon provided for you, like education and a nice home and fatherly love. there was no good reason to expect more than that from him. maybe you were just greedy.

or maybe you were needy. at worst, you were a little bit of both, but that wasn’t completely your fault. when bred from incompetence and instability, no one could rationally expect anything but insanity. if no one had ever given you a fair chance at normalcy, then no one could expect you to know how to reinvent yourself into something ordinary.

it was just so exhausting to be continuously rejected, because you were too this or not enough of that. you never knew how to be what anyone wanted. you never knew how to make anyone stay. just once, you wanted someone to care for you the same way you cared about them, and nothing less.

just when you were beginning to accept that you were hopeless, there was a knock on your door. wiping at your eyes, you reluctantly called out, “it’s open.”

sunghoon came in, shutting the door behind him, heart clenching in his chest when he noticed your reddening eyes. “calm down yet?” he asked.

you shrugged your shoulders, but murmured, “i don’t know if i’ll ever calm down.”

he could tell that you didn’t just mean the exchange downstairs; no, whatever storm was raging and rushing within you unbeknownst to him, it was only festering. “i try not to say the wrong things,” sunghoon said, slowly coming to sit beside you on the edge of your bed.

you knew that. it was something you had come to like about him. he was careful, loving. it was never his intention to hurt anyone. but he was only human, and humans made mistakes and had lapses in judgment. “maybe you weren’t wrong. maybe i’m just immature.”

“maybe a little bit,” sunghoon told you, frank, but lighthearted. “but i could have said it a little better.”

you rolled your eyes, almost feeling better already. but the faint echo in your heart had yet to cease. “you don’t need to sugarcoat everything for me all the time, you know.”

sunghoon hummed. you were saying that, but he knew that he could break you into pieces if he wanted. tinier, more insignificant pieces than the ones you already were broken into. but he wouldn’t. he was realizing the full scope of power he wielded over you, and now that he knew, he wanted to be cautious. “i think i understand you now.”

your eyes leapt up to his face, almost like you were begging for that to be true. “what do you mean?”

“why you do the things you do,” sunghoon continued, dabbing at a tear that had fallen down your cheeks. “you don’t want a boyfriend. you want a father.”

saying nothing, you fidgeted with your thumbs and held your breath. you weren’t used to having your heart laid flat on the table.

sunghoon stopped you, setting his palm on the back of your hand. “you want me,” he said, making you wish you could disappear. “and that’s why you kept saying that you didn’t really want jake, but never explained to me why you kept dating.”

you leaned your head on his shoulder. “i love you so much, daddy.”

sunghoon’s heart was pounding in ways it hadn’t in a long time. “i know you do, baby girl. but you know that this isn’t right.”

“i don’t care.”

sunghoon sighed. “i’ve known you since you were thirteen, doll.”

“so? am i thirteen right now?”

“no, but you’re barely legal.”

“i’m legal. you don’t need to put unnecessary adverbs in front of it. i’m not some kid, daddy.”

there was no doubt that sunghoon was trying to change your mind, hoping to say something that would make you realize how foolish this was. too bad for him, you were too far gone. “your mother…,” he started. 

“i don’t care,” you repeated a little harsher. “you told me yourself, you basically married her for me. and all she does is leech off you. i know it and you know it. we don’t even know where she is right now. say that you love her more than you love me, say it!”

“i don’t like your tone right now, doll,” sunghoon told you, stern, but level. 

obeying the silent command in his voice, you quietened, murmuring, “i’m sorry, daddy.”

sunghoon sighed, stuck between a rock and a hard place. he put a hand on your thigh. “but you’re right. i do love you more.”

“then, prove it,” you whispered, inviting him. daring him. prove that you love me. prove that you’re just as sick as i am. prove to me that i have you in every way, that i’m not alone.

sunghoon knew that he shouldn’t. he was considering everything you had failed to acknowledge - your mother, his marriage, proper morality, and the fate of his relationship with you. but where he had been ignorant to your fermenting feelings, he hadn’t failed to notice exactly how much you had grown up.

the way your body had matured. the way you’d began coordinating your signature scents into something that was indisputably yours. the way your taste in fashion had changed from fluffy, pink skirts to short ones that were one wrong move away from flashing your plush cheeks and the cute, thin fabric of your underwear clinging tightly onto your cunt it just hardly concealed.

sunghoon had, too, noticed, and been rather fond of, how you were usually the meekest thing in the world only for him. with enough conditioning, in a world that was darker, he could put a gun in your hand and turn you into his little obedient vixen. you just wanted to heal him, please him, satisfy him.

but it would be wrong. and sunghoon had once prided himself on the fact that he did everything right. he got the most compelling grades in school to prove that he had genuine smarts to pair with his wealth, he went to a top university and worked hard, he got a job straight after graduation, met who he thought was the perfect woman, married her, bought a opulent house with her, and had a beautiful daughter with her.

so what if he still had to repeat a couple of steps, and so what if he had messed up on a few? at least he didn’t mess up on you. the only thing he regretted when it came to you was not completely noticing, not doing more to keep you from struggling.

you were more than just a reclaim of what he had lost. sunghoon didn’t think of his first daughter when he thought of you, not anymore. with you getting older and growing into your own person, your own way of life, it was difficult to see her in you. so, he accepted you as your own person, and in turn, he let go.

but that fact didn’t make him feel any less guilty or conflicted. you were still his stepdaughter, and you trusted him to protect you. your mother trusted him to protect you. everybody trusted him to guide you, steer you, lead you.

looking into his brown, troubled eyes, you instantly knew what it meant. he needed some persuasion, something to hinder his overthinking.

“please,” you pleaded, resting a hand on his lower abdomen just as gingerly as the way he handled you in mind and in body. he was still in his work shirt, broad shoulders catching your eye as you succumbed to the urge to rub your smooth palms over them. 

look at you, begging him to fuck you. gazing up at him with those big, hopeful eyes with a shimmer that was so sweetly sparkling he almost mistook it as innocent. but he knew better. those were eyes that hoped for corruption, that sought comfort in destruction, and that were molded into the puppet of pain.

you lowered your hand again, stopping just shy of his crotch hidden by his work pants. fumbling with the fly, you looked into his eyes, searching for something. any indication that he was resisting. but you only saw him watching like even he didn’t know what he wanted.

it was surprising. you had been half expecting him to put his hand over yours and stop you, to remind you again that this was wrong and he didn’t see you how you saw him, but he just kept his eyes focused on you as if he was trying to see just how far you would go.

testing the waters, you undid his pants and went straight for his cock, the sound of a strained grunt making your cunt clench around emptiness. it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard. you had imagined pulling those sounds out of sunghoon, closed your eyes and immersed yourself in a resewn fabric of another reality, but nothing measured up to hearing it for yourself.

sunghoon knew that things were rapidly approaching the point of no return and he groaned, “doll…”

“make me stop,” you whispered, gently wrapping your fingers around him and moving your hand in a relaxed motion. “make me stop, daddy.”

it wasn’t for lack of trying. sunghoon closed his eyes, wanting to will himself to be the rational person in the room since you had forwent reason entirely, but the second your small, supple hands tightened around his shaft, he knew he had failed.

he didn’t want you to stop. and you you didn’t want to stop, either.

you beamed victoriously, his silence being a telltale sign that he had succumbed to the same infectious wanting that had long plagued you. you moved your hand only a little faster, endeavoring to stroke him hard. it seemed that with every touch and movement of your wrist, his breathing was growing louder, more labored.

when he was fully hard, you had to suck in a gasp. you weren’t sure how you were going to fit every inch of him inside you, and the only thing that seemed clear was that you had your work cut out for you. nevertheless, you still wanted to make him feel good, so you glanced up at him and said sweetly, “tell me what to do. teach me, daddy.”

you caught a quiet, “fuck,” from underneath sunghoon’s breath as he heard what you had said, on the verge of losing his mind altogether, and it was doing unmistakable damage to his psyche. doing the right thing was no longer an option. all that was left was ache and need. without it, you didn’t know who you were.

releasing a shaky breath, sunghoon brushed his thumb against your bottom lip with affection and whispered, “take it in your mouth. go slow and gentle.”

you nodded your head obediently, opening your mouth just wide enough to fit his girth between your parted lips. the first inch was fine; the second inch had its complications, given that you hadn’t adjusted to the pressure of his cock in your mouth and breathing through your nose. by the third, you folded, withdrawing.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured, feeling like you should have at least been able to do that much.

sunghoon shook his head, smiling, and smoothed a hand through your hair. “that’s okay, baby,” he said, understanding. “try again.”

you sucked him into your mouth again, right between your lips, cheeks hollowed and everything, but for some odd reason, you couldn’t relax. you already felt like you were about to gag and it was only the first couple of inches. when you tried to take another, you had to pull back again.

there was a faint burning in the back of your throat. you didn’t even notice that a few tears had fallen from one of your eyes until you pulled your mouth off. you frowned, unable to shake the fear that you would disappoint him somehow if you couldn’t do it.

“you’re okay,” sunghoon reassured you, patting your head. “you’re okay, doll. i promise.”

with another nod, you decided to give it one more go, determined. not only because you wanted to prove yourself, but because you wanted to make him feel good. you couldn’t think of anyone that deserved it more than he did.

this time, sunghoon held your hair comfortably behind your head and caressed the strands as you tried to pleasure him once more, accepting what you could into your mouth bit by bit. you were less tense than before and it enabled you to concentrate on breathing and not overwhelming yourself too quickly.

afraid that you would gag again if you tried to take another inch, you decided to use your hand to take care of the remaining amount that wouldn’t fit. fortunately, it seemed to work; your mouth kept one part of him company, and your hands moved to prevent the other from becoming too neglected.

sunghoon moaned, curses falling here and there. you could feel the wetness soiling your underwear and he hadn’t even done anything yet. his voice was low and deep, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. minute by minute, you became more and more aware of how aroused you were, and your mind, friend and foe, tempted you with pictures of what it would be like to finally have sunghoon inside.

to your surprise, sunghoon cautiously pried you off his cock, making you look up at him and wonder if you had done something wrong, but all he said was, “i don’t want to come yet.”

your thighs squeezed together in excitement. if not now, then later. and if not in your mouth, then hopefully deep, deep inside.

“daddy,” you called out, somewhat timid. “are you gonna fuck me?”

sunghoon was maybe a few seconds away from short-circuiting and it was admirable that he hadn’t done so already, all things considered. he didn’t reply immediately, having to catch his breath. “do you want me to?”

“yes,” you replied in a heartbeat. 

the room felt hot, and sunghoon couldn’t tell if it was real or it was in his head. “say it.”

it was a little awkward for you to say it so bluntly, but given that you had come this far, you might as well. “i want you to fuck me, daddy.”

sunghoon grunted and said something that sounded like, “come here,” as he gingerly pulled you off your knees and back onto your mattress. before you even blinked, he was pressing his lips to yours, enveloping them in a sweet, fiery kiss. 

it felt like a daydream. maybe because you had dreamed of him before and this captured the exact floaty, cloudlike feeling of his arms cushioning your body in a dream, only the speeding thud in your heart making it undeniably real.

you couldn’t liken it to any kiss that you and jake had shared. while you would admit that jake was objectively a good kisser, almost everything you did together lacked passion; there was no spark behind even the most tender of touches. and yet somehow just being this close to sunghoon made your whole body scorch with the fever of suppressed want.

sunghoon slowly forced himself away and began to descend down your body, tugging your shorts down your thighs. heat filled your cheeks when his fingers hooked under your underwear next, but you raised your hips so that he could pull them off. what caught you by surprise, however, was when his tongue flicked over your sensitive flesh.

you gasped, a jolt making your body snap. “wait, daddy, you don’t need to. i’m already wet enough.”

that you were. sunghoon could see plain as day how your wet folds glistened with an arousal that had been building longer than he could ever imagine, gone ignored and neglected no longer. “i know,” he grunted out. “i want to.”

then without another word, sunghoon went to town. he started slow, gentle; his larger hands were firm on your plush thighs as he held them apart, almost as if he expected you to eventually resist him. for now, though, there was no need; he was tasting your devotion on his tongue, in no apparent hurry to let this moment end.

your breaths were becoming increasingly heavy, and a part of you still couldn’t believe that this was really happening - sunghoon was in between your legs, prepared to make you seen every star that hung in the night sky. you did what you could to commit the sight to memory, refusing to let it get away.

sunghoon wanted to see you unravel. you nearly died when he pressed his tongue deep inside you, abruptly tearing a sweet cry out of your mouth. the muscle wandered over your walls, savoring what he would feel soon enough. but for now, he was more than content to gather every bit of your arousal on the very tip of his tongue and make you feel sensations unimagined.

“god, you taste so good, baby,” sunghoon groaned, hands clamping tightly around your thighs. “so goddamn good.”

it was from that moment forward he lost control; his self-restraint broke; he was consumed with abandon. sunghoon licked and sucked at your bundle of nerves, drawing out more noises than before. your hips jerked as you laid sprawled out before him, entirely at his mercy. 

just the way you always wanted.

“does that feel good, baby?” sunghoon pulled away for the shortest second to ask. “do you want me to slow down?”

you shook your head, hands desperately fisting the sheets. “no, please. don’t slow down. down stop,” you begged. 

hearing you say that only made sunghoon harder, but he was still a man with some inhibitions if it meant drawing out the pleasure you felt at his hands. “just tell me if you need me to switch things up, okay?”

then he went back to work. this time he steadily worked two fingers into you, and you knew without a shred of doubt that you were positively ruined. they were long and thick, much more compared to yours; you would probably feel his cock for days to come.

you could feel yourself devolving into pure madness. sunghoon’s fingers were working you open at the same time his tongue flicked over your clit, and you could hardly keep still, your body convulsing every which way. if not for how tight his hands were around your trembling thighs, you wouldn’t have been able to keep them spread for him.

“daddy, please don’t stop. i think i’m gonna come,” you said between quick pants. 

“i know, baby girl. just relax for me.”

with every nerve in your body going haywire, you felt anything but relaxed. between your thudding heartbeat and the ecstasy shooting its way through your spine, your body was bursting at the seams with fervor. but you tried for him. you couldn’t think, at least. there was too much physical stimulation to allow for passing thoughts.

sunghoon only had only goal in mind and that was to make you feel nothing short of the absolute peak of pleasure. he could see what things your body was responding to best and he took advantage of every reaction you had to offer, twisting his tongue the way you so clearly loved.

you couldn’t handle it anymore, and something within you snapped; you cried out, back arching off your fluffy pink bed, jake and the stupid stuffed toys the furthest thing on your mind as warmth fluttered in your stomach.

“that’s it, doll,” sunghoon crooned. “you’re okay, baby. i promise. just let go.”

all the while, his fingers didn’t stop as he spoke. they kept moving as he assured you between gentle kisses to your thighs, almost as restless as your entire body was. “daddy,” you whimpered, thoroughly wrecked.

“i know,” sunghoon whispered, lips flush against your skin. “you did so good, doll. so good for me.”

sunghoon got up from his knees and draped himself over your body, leaning down to kiss you breathless. though you tried to ignore it, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you and just the feeling itself was mouthwatering.

“so perfect,” sunghoon murmured, pulling back to pepper kisses down your jaw. “did you really think daddy wasn’t gonna make sure his doll was taken care of?”

you had nothing to say, so you just watched him begin to peel off what was left of both of your clothes, piece by piece. when you completely naked, you noticed sunghoon’s unbudging eyes stuck to your figure. “do you think i’m pretty, daddy?” you asked with a smile. 

“pretty?” he murmured, brows stitched in amazement. “you’re… you’re beautiful, doll. don’t you forget it.”

you wanted to hear him say that a thousand times over.

even as sunghoon moved to reposition himself between your legs, you could hardly believe that this was actually - genuinely - happening. but every touch of his body had felt so real, and you’d dreamed of moments like this enough to know the difference. giving you one last chance to back out, sunghoon asked, “are you sure you want to do this, baby?”

“please,” you begged. the brushing of his tip against your slick folds made your mouth run dry. “i need it. i need you.”

that was all it took for sunghoon to push inside you, slow and steady as ever. you sucked in a breath, your hands already clenching the sheets again as he coaxed the head of his cock deeper inside your sticky cunt.

“oh my god,” you gasped out. 

sunghoon chuckled. “i’m barely inside you, baby.”

you knew that, but the feeling of him inside you even this far was enough to make your mind unravel. you’d imagined that it would be a tight fit, but despite him preparing you to take him, that seemed like an understatement. though you were nothing if not purely determined. you would take all of him, no matter how long it took.

sunghoon’s brows furrowed the deeper he sunk into you, his jaw slacked. “god, you’re so tight,” he murmured. to sunghoon, this was the moment that cemented everything into reality, the moment that made everything true. the tight, wet feel of you stretching around his cock as he moved deeper and deeper was too insane to be imagined even if he tried. and he had tried.

your chest and core fluttered at the compliment. you enjoyed the praise. knowing that you were satisfying him, that you were pleasuring him the way he was pleasuring you, was something that filled you with an immense sense of accomplishment. there was nothing you wanted more than to serve him, than to be his girl.

sunghoon took his time, still hardly moving. every time he heard you abruptly suck in a gasp, his hips ground to a stop, wanting to give you time to adjust. he knew better than anyone that he wasn’t lacking in the size category, and the last thing he wanted was to make his sweet girl’s first time uncomfortable. for the right reasons, he wanted to give you a time to remember.

“do you need a minute, doll?” he asked, one brow lifted as he glanced down at you.

you shook your head. “no, it’s okay. you can keep going.”

“you sure?” he pressed. it would be a lie if he said he wasn’t dying to move even deeper, but not at your expense.

not to mention that your mother probably wouldn’t return until after midnight, but that was another conversation.

“i’m sure, daddy,” you replied, reaching out to cradle his face in your hands. you didn’t want him to look away. “don’t stop.”

“fuck,” sunghoon groaned. you watched his lips part with the noise and felt his cock become buried further inside your cunt, working you open for him. he was taking his sweet time, because you both knew that if he was going to destroy you, he was going to make every second of it count.

“daddy, are you almost done?” you asked quietly. 

“halfway, babe,” sunghoon told you.

you gawked. “halfway?”

sunghoon shushed you with a kiss, pushing himself yet another inch within your heat. he couldn’t wrap his mind around how perfect you felt around his cock and he wasn’t even fully seated inside you yet. you tried to focus on the way his lips moved against yours, but not even that could distract you from how he was stretching you out beyond belief.

“daddy, you’re so big,” you whined. 

“i know, baby girl,” sunghoon replied softly, a hint of guilt on his face. “almost there, i promise. does it hurt?”

“a little bit,” you admitted. “but i can take it.”

sunghoon swept his finger over your bottom lip. “you sure, baby?”

you nodded your head. for him, you were convinced that you could do anything. and on top of that, there were no bounds to the things that you would do for him.

when sunghoon’s length had finally penetrated you to the very end, he stilled again, giving you a moment to recover before he started. it felt like an eternity before he actually moved, but when you gave him a nod of approval, he slowly drew back and penetrated you again. you were at a lost for words. nothing had ever been inside you that deeply. there were your fingers and maybe a hair brush, but neither rivaled the depth of your stepfather’s thick cock as he began to take you like you were his. 

because you were.

“jesus christ,” sunghoon hissed. “you feel so good, doll. do you know that?”

“you feel good too,” you stammered out.

sunghoon took that as a sign that he was doing everything right, which was more than enough for him to relax. his mind was reeling. the mere wet sound of your skin meeting was making him lose control, and that was to say nothing of your pretty moans. the way you desperately called out for him was almost too much to bear.

you reciprocated his feelings. with every deep, guttural grunt that escaped sunghoon’s mouth, your body was less and less yours. he owned you, head to toe, inside out. you were more than prepared to surrender everything to him, to let him claim all that you were. because you relied on him. you needed him. and little did you know, in some twisted way, he needed you even more.

sunghoon’s hands were balled at your sides, clenching the sheets fiercely. he dreaded hurting you, but imagine his surprise when you grabbed a hold of his hands and redirected them to your perfect hips. “you can hold me, daddy,” you reassured him. “please. i won’t break.”

and even if you did, you were willing to let him put you back together. sunghoon could feel whatever remained of his restraint crumbling into pieces, and he held your hips in his palms tightly, his eyes boring into yours. his gaze, as relentless as it was, wasn’t challenging; it was piercing, loving, understanding. he saw you, he knew you, because you were familiar. you were what kept him whole.

something made sunghoon hold you even tighter. there was a thought that struck him. you needed him to take care of you, to depend upon, to guide you. and he needed you to bring back a purpose which was unfairly stolen from him. he knew it was wrong, that it was sick, but it couldn’t be helped. you had become everything to him, and there was no way in hell he was going to let that go.

“i need you,” he panted, his hips keeping a comfortable pace that you seemed to enjoy, judging from how you continued to throb and moan. “i need you so much, doll. you don’t understand.”

you shook your head, arms wrapped around his neck. you wanted to be inseparably close. “i do understand, daddy,” you insisted. “i need you too.”

sunghoon felt heat surging through his stomach. he said your name. “i love you.”

your lips curled into a smile. your body shook with rapture, so much that you thought you could cry. “i love you too, daddy. i love you so much. i’d let you have me whenever. i’m yours and i wanna take care of you.”

“mine?” sunghoon repeated, so quietly it could have gone unheard if not for how close his face was to yours.

you nodded your head. 

sunghoon prodded, “all mine? and not that stupid little boy you call a boyfriend?”

the mere mention of jake made you feel disgust and you knew that you were over him, for good. “won’t see him anymore, daddy. i promise. i never wanted him. i always really just wanted you.”

sunghoon didn’t even bother willing himself to keep calm after he heard you say that. he was insane about you and he didn’t care to hide it anymore. “always?” he repeated.

you hummed. “the first time i came was on that bunny rabbit right there.” you turned your head to gesture towards the stuffed animal.

sunghoon saw it and his eyes darkened as he pictured you mounting the poor bunny, grinding your hips against it as you wished and hoped and prayed it’d soon enough be him bringing you pleasure. he wondered exactly how many times you had used it. how many times you had thought of him.

you cried out as his hips began slap against yours faster, but you took it. sunghoon wasn’t particularly rough, but each thrust drove you closer to insanity than the last. wrapping your legs around your waist, you drew him closer, your arms around his neck and his big hands firm at your hips. “fuck,” you stammered.

“you think about me a lot?” sunghoon asked. 

you nodded your head eagerly. “yes, all the time!”

sunghoon was unrelenting. he lowered his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, before he let it fall and pressed, “how much do you think about me?”

“every day,” you told him honestly. “there’s not one day… where i don’t.”

“every day?” sunghoon repeated. “you think about me fucking you every day?”

“sometimes i dream about it,” you confessed.

sunghoon groaned. he had dreamed of you too. he had constantly tried not to think about you in that light, but he couldn’t help what he dreamed of. “i dream about you too,” he whispered. “of making love to you and fucking you full of my cum. will you let me, doll?”

“yes,” you answered him without a second of hesitation. “please, daddy. come inside me!”

sunghoon almost came just from hearing those words, but he couldn’t yet. not before he felt you tighten around his cock with climax. removing his hand from his hip, he began to toy with your sensitive clit, eager and desperate to make you come, to see you come, to feel you come.

your body arched into his hand, knowing who its owner was and willing to submit to his every whim. it felt like your mind was floating somewhere between earth and heaven, lost in space where there was no life, no time. only infinity.

it wasn’t long before your vision brightened white and you swore you could see every star. your legs tightened their grip around his waist as you shuddered with ecstasy, and your mouth hung open as you moaned.

“that’s it,” sunghoon crooned. “good girl. you’re amazing, doll.”

you stilled after a moment, sated. 

the sensation of your cunt gushing tightly around him as you orgasmed made sunghoon moan himself, and you listened to the sounds of your heat kneading his cock as he used your cunt to push himself to the end. it had felt so good to you too; having something to grip on as you came made the experience all that much better.

“come for me, daddy,” you said, trying to coax the orgasm out of him. “come inside your doll… i need it.”

that did it. hearing you referring to yourself as his doll sent him completely over the edge and you gasped out loud when you felt sunghoon dumping his thick, sticky hot load into your cunt with the deepest grunt of your name. it was so good, so warm. you held eye contact with him the entire time, not once daring to look away even as his hips slowed to a stop.

for a long moment, you both simply lay there in each other’s arms, neither of you wanting to move when you were this close. but you did pull him in for another heated kiss, because you couldn’t think of another way to somehow bring yourself even closer. sunghoon kissed you back passionately, holding your body against his protectively, almost as if he was afraid you’d be taken from him too.

you thought nothing could ruin the moment. then, out of the blue, your phone rang. you and sunghoon both let out a collective sigh of exasperation and you withdrew to peak at your phone on your nightstand, wholeheartedly expecting it to be your mother.

your eyes went wide when you saw that it was jake.

and you wouldn’t have answered it, but you needed to call it quits anyway. though you initially planned to meet him in person, in that moment, you decided he didn’t deserve to see you again in his life. “hello?” you answered.

“baby, you picked up,” jake said, sounding amazed. “listen to me, baby. i’m so sorry i haven’t been answering your calls. i just needed some space, you understand that, right?”

before he could utter another word, the phone was abruptly snatched from your hands. “don’t call my daughter again, or i swear to god, i will find you, and then i will fuck you up,” sunghoon hissed. 

he hung up without another word and tossed the phone to the side.

you gawked at his words, but you both felt the way you’d throbbed. “daddy!”

for as long as you could remember, you had never been particularly fond of your boyfriend’s friends.

they were outright obnoxious, and even that was you being kind and considerate. their voices boomed loudly and their laughter rang out, and the demeaning remarks they made too often to be mere jokes always made you a little uncomfortable. 

though they knew better than to make any lewd comments about you, at least. most of them were about a pretty girl wandering the party, or their girlfriend of the week. but you weren’t dumb. you saw the way they looked at you every now and then, judging you. scorning you. tearing you apart. 

no comments were spoken squarely to your face, but you knew they were conjured. it made you wonder what they said to jake when you weren’t there on his lap, and you wondered if he chimed along. 

thick clouds of smoke loomed in the stuffy air, making it difficult to breathe. you coughed into your fist, feeling your throat itch. honest to god, you had absolutely no clue how they smoked that shit. the one time jake had coaxed you into putting a joint to your mouth, you had thought you were dying.

jay said something that abruptly made the group of boys burst into laughter. you jolted, lifting your head from jake’s shoulder. he tightened his arm, which was looped around your back, holding you against him. “jake?” you whispered. 

“hm?”

you were reluctant to say anything, knowing how he would likely respond, but you didn’t want to be here anymore. “can we go somewhere else?”

jake exhaled through his nose. you knew he didn’t want to leave. to him, these nights with his friends were harmless little exploits that made his life a little easier. 

it didn’t help that he was already annoyed with you. when he swung by earlier to pick you up, he looked you up and down, and the first thing to leave his mouth was a disgruntled, “why do you always dress so childishly?”

you had never thought of your bright colors and cute patterns as inherently childish. matter of fact, the cute, brown top with stitched teddy bears you were wearing was one of your favorite shirts. 

“why do you want to leave?” jake asked softly, gently rubbing your back in hopes of soothing you. 

“it’s too noisy,” you complained, peering up at him.

jake could have rolled his eyes. fuck’s sake, it was a party. obviously, it wasn’t going to sound like a prayer hall. “if you smoked a little, it wouldn’t bother you.”

“i don’t like smoking.”

“that’s because you’re not used to it, baby,” jake reasoned. 

“i don’t want to get used to it,” you mumbled. “you guys all pass around the same joint. you’ve basically kissed each other. which means that when you kiss me, i’m kissing all of them.”

jake groaned, “you’re so dramatic, you know that, sweetheart? it’s just a joint.”

“can you please just take me home?” you pleaded. between the rings of smoke hanging over you and the resounding thud of music and the cacophony of loud voices, you felt like you were suffocating.

jake was silent for a few moments, jaw tight. something tightened in your chest, recognizing the look on his face as something angry. before you could change your mind, jake pushed you off his lap, watching you scramble onto your feet, and spoke, “gonna call it a night early, gang. my special princess over here is too good to hang with us.”

jungwon groaned. jay rolled his eyes. heeseung snickered, not so discreetly looking at your legs, and said, “bye, princess.”

jake flipped him off and guided you away, murmuring, “come on, baby.” his hand was on the small of your back.

the two of you pushed past the bundle of people partying in the main room, which was easier with your tall, respected boyfriend in tow. your shoulders relaxed when you were outside. you were happy to be breathing in the fresh air rather than smoking and doing whatever else people could get their hands on.

jake opened the door on the passenger side of his car, letting you climb inside. by the time you were on the road, his hand was on your thigh.

you didn’t mind that. jake was a very touchy boyfriend and he always had his hands all over you. the attention was something you needed, something you craved. it was just safe enough to make you feel wanted within the boundaries of your control.

but then, after maybe ten or fifteen minutes, his hand started to move. you tore your gaze from the window down to the motion on your lap, stomach churning as you sensed his hands slipping further and further. then, your eyes went up to his face. his eyes were on the road, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

everyone was nervous about losing their virginity. everyone was scared of firsts. but for you, it was a little more than that. you weren’t scared of what happened during the act; you were terrified of what came after.

would jake still want you after you gave him what he’d been coveting? would he come back for more? could you meet his expectations, compare to the fantasies he’d crafted in his mind and had been hoping to enact?

you couldn’t know for sure. once you gave him what he wanted, you had nothing to keep him around anymore; nothing to rein him back in after the night was over. and the last thing you wanted was to be alone again. it had been okay, the ice, the nip, when it was all you’d ever known, but now that you had known how it felt to be warm, you didn’t want to remember how it felt to freeze.

“jake,” you called out softly. “what are you doing?”

“nothing, baby,” jake lied sweetly, feigning innocence. all the while, his hand was continuing to move up your leg. slowly, but surely. 

when he got too close, you decided that you were more than a little uncomfortable and gingerly pushed his hand away, as if not to upset him. “babe, i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

jake forced a smile, and somehow, that was more unnerving than if he had screamed at you, exasperated. “goddamn it, woman,” he murmured. “you already dragged me away from my friends. the least you could do is make it worth it.”

you swallowed, guilt hitting you like a punch in the chest. but the anxious stirring in your stomach was a thousand times worse, a million times louder, and potent tenfold. “i’m sorry,” was all you could bring yourself to say. 

jake scoffed, refusing to look at you. which was probably not so bad, all things considered. “yeah, you should be,” he grumbled. 

your eyes watered, but you looked out the window and tried to think of happier, kinder times. you didn’t want to cry, not until you were alone where no one could see. you hated crying in front of others. it was embarrassing. to say nothing of the fact that whenever jake reduced you to tears, he called you a crybaby, and he’d already made you feel childish enough.

the rest of the drive home was silent, save for the sound of the wind blowing through your hair and the occasional honking; your only refuge in the midst of your struggle to be the perfect girlfriend. the cool night breeze calmed you, soothed you, and traffic felt familiar. it was oddly comforting, being stuck between two things with nowhere to go. 

a feeling you knew all too well. 

the only downside was that the longer you stayed there, hardly moving, the longer you had to pretend everything was okay and try desperately not to sob.

it felt like forever before you were finally back home. you immediately got out of the car, having assumed that jake wanted nothing more to do with you right now. 

to your surprise, he sighed and willed himself to get out of the car, walking you to your front door. 

you peered up at him, trying to read his face, trying to understand where he was at and where you had pushed him. “are you mad at me?” you asked timidly, as if you didn’t truly want to know the answer.

jake took his time to answer, exhaling quietly. “no, baby,” he said after a moment. “i’m not mad. but you can’t avoid sex forever, you know. that’s what people do. it’s natural.”

he said it so outrightly, so bluntly. as if it was really, truly just another thing that everyone did, that had no risk and no consequence. you admired his fearlessness sometimes, wondering how his life had unfolded for him to be so bold, and realized you knew very little about him. “i know,” you whispered. 

jake reached for your hand, tenderly brushing his fingers over your knuckles. “but?”

you released a shaky breath. jake understood you, some ways better than others. he may have been completely clueless in some regards, but your body language was not one. shy, you confessed, “but i’m scared.”

“why are you scared?” jake asked, keeping his voice soft and level. “do you not trust me, sweetheart?”

“no, i do,” you replied, though you weren’t entirely sure if that was true or not. “but what if it’s not what you’re expecting?”

jake chuckled, as if that was absurd. “baby, relax,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “you could never disappoint me.”

your eyes got a little wider, a little starrier, watching him as if he was your whole world. “are you sure?”

“yeah, i’m sure, baby,” he told you, pressing a final kiss to your lips. “goodnight, sweetheart.”

“goodnight,” you whispered, watching him slowly start to back away. “text me when you get home.”

jake bobbed his head in acknowledgment and started to walk back to his car.

you unlocked the front door of your house, hoping to god your mother wasn’t somewhere lounging around or smoking. your stepfather didn’t enjoy when she smoked inside the house, but he was gone for the weekend. which, to her, meant his rules didn’t matter.

there was no sight of your mother when you walked into the house. but you blinked in surprise when you saw your stepfather’s favorite coat hanging on the rack in the foyer. you didn’t know people actually had those until you moved in with him.

sunghoon was in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up halfway to his shoulders, drinking coffee out of a mug you’d designed for his birthday when you were roughly fourteen. it was stupid and kind of ugly, but the fact that he still drank from it, even after four years, warmed your heart.

“daddy?” you called, stunned. you weren’t expecting him to be here for another day. 

“hey, doll,” sunghoon greeted, setting down his mug for a second. “you look surprised.”

you nodded your head. compared to what you heard in endless amounts of fiction, sunghoon didn’t go on many business trips. one a month, usually, for less than three days. “i thought you were coming back tomorrow?”

“we were able to wrap things up early,” sunghoon explained briefly. he didn’t like to bore you with the details of his job, though you often asked him about it, which was somewhat endearing.

“oh,” you mumbled. you tried not to show how happy you were. most times when you were alone here with your mother, you tried to go out as much as you possibly could, which was the only reason you had agreed to hang out with jake and his friends tonight. 

“yeah.” sunghoon’s eyes flitted over your body, making you feel a little self-conscious. he would habitually remember to pick up his mug and wince at how hot his coffee was. “you look cute.”

you blinked. sunghoon always complimented the way you dressed, often reminding you how cute and beautiful you were. you wished your boyfriend was more like that. “thanks,” you replied, coming over to hug him.

sunghoon set his mug down again and threw his arms around you, gentle as ever. but he smelled something on you that he didn’t exactly love. “you went out with that boy again, didn’t you?”

“how did you know?”

“you smell like weed,” he answered bluntly. 

your cheeks burned. the smell had followed you home, clinging to you. you didn’t notice it on yourself, but you knew how much he hated it. “i didn’t smoke,” you told him. “i was just next to them.”

sunghoon chuckled. he knew that. you hated the mere smell of smoke, always scrunching up your face whenever it stuck to your mother or whatever spot she’d chosen to get high at. “you don’t need to explain yourself to me, doll. i know you.”

you nodded, even more embarrassed. reluctantly, you pulled away and sat on the barstool next to him. it was late and you were kind of sleepy, exhausted of having to try so hard, but you wanted to talk to him.

ironically, it was silent for a moment as sunghoon sipped his coffee and you tried to think of what to say. sunghoon spoke first, mentioning offhandedly, “i don’t like your boyfriend.”

you sighed, resting your head against the island. “i don’t really like him, either.”

that threw sunghoon off. “so why are you still dating him?”

“i don’t know,” you huffed.

sunghoon’s eyes were fixed on you, wanting to get to the bottom of it and willing to confront the issue that you weren’t. you had no business staying in a relationship you weren’t content with. “is he threatening you?” he asked.

your shot up, eyes widening. “no, he’s not making me date him.”

if anything, that only served to make sunghoon even more alarmed, and he pressed, “what is he making you do?”

“he’s not making me do anything,” you replied quietly, knowing that wasn’t the best way to put it. “it’s just that… he wants to have sex.”

“and you don’t?” sunghoon finished for you. the topic didn’t make him feel awkward or uncomfortable, even if you were, by law, his daughter. he was the one person in the world you could talk to about anything and everything without fear, and he took great pride in that.

you shrugged, repeating, “i don’t know.”

“well, you gotta know something, baby,” sunghoon teased. “do you, or do not you?”

ignoring the way the pet name made you feel, you tried to think about it, hard. “i mean, he’s cute. and he’s nice enough most of the time,” you murmured, engrossed in thought. “but i guess i don’t really trust him that much yet. and i don’t want to give my body to someone i don’t trust.”

sunghoon hummed in understanding. “you know that’s not a bad thing, right?”

you sighed, shoulders slumped. “i guess.”

sunghoon placed his hand on your cheek, his touch feather light, as if you had a fragile warning on your forehead. “you can do so much better than him,” he whispered. “i know you’re going to do whatever you want at the end of the day, but as your father, i’m going to look out for you.”

but could you do any better? jake was your first boyfriend in years. maybe he wasn’t perfect, but he was better than all the failed talking stages you’d been through. if you held onto the good memories, the ones like only a moment ago where he held you tenderly and touched you with affection, you could bear the hurt.

but there was nothing like that with sunghoon. the way he touched you now, his hand on your face, was something you could always expect. “thank you for that.”

sunghoon shook his head. “you don’t need to thank me. it’s what i’m supposed to do.”

no, you have no obligation to do that, you thought to yourself, bemused. for nearly five years, he had been going above and beyond for you, treating you as if you were his very own daughter. you couldn’t understand it. 

but you appreciated it. you appreciated everything. the way he reminded you how beautiful you were, the way he spent time with you even when he was exhausted, the way he listened to your problems and told you everything was going to be okay. without him, you would be so much more broken. 

but you didn’t let your thoughts wander there. it was too much suppressed pain that you weren’t ready to uncover. “daddy, are you tired?”

sunghoon shrugged. “not really. i probably won’t go to sleep until around two. why?”

“do you want to watch a scary movie with me?” you asked, hopeful. yearnful. 

sunghoon could see it in your eyes. he had learned to become very good at reading you after so long, though you’d always worn your emotions on your face. especially when you were thinking. it was very hard for you to lie. chuckling at the thought, he replied, “why not?”

you smiled, removing his hand from your face to slip your fingers through his as you hopped off the barstool, and led him to the living room.

the two of you settled on a nightmare on elm street and you went on to complain about how much you disliked eighties horror, much to sunghoon’s amusement. he tried to remind you that the technology and equipment available decades ago wasn’t the same as in the current age, but you didn’t budge.

apparently, you found the movie so boring that you fell asleep watching young johnny depp get devoured by a mattress. your head was on sunghoon’s shoulder, the couch blanket draped over you as you snored softly.

when you woke up, you were in your bed, cocooned inside your comforter instead and surrounded by stuffed dolls as birds chirped outside your window and the morning breeze whistled through the air.

none of which you had time to enjoy or even perceive, because the thing that had jolted you awake was the sound of a fist banging against your bedroom door. you groaned and willed yourself to climb out of bed, grumbling something underneath your breath, and threw the door open exasperatedly.

your mother was standing there in her robe, eyes red. “why didn’t you wash dishes?” 

you fought a groan. that was the first thing to come out of her mouth? really? “wasn’t aware i was supposed to,” you said groggily.

clearly, that wasn’t a satisfactory answer. “i don’t want to wake up to a dirty kitchen. we’ve been over this.”

you could have rolled your eyes at that. then, clean it up yourself, you retorted in your head. it wasn’t like you had made the mess. “you cooked while i wasn’t here and i didn’t have any.” i didn’t think i needed to clean up after you.

“that doesn’t mean shit,” she snapped. “you don’t have a job, you don’t do anything around the house. you need to take some responsibility.”

with that, your mother turned and walked away. 

you closed the door and exhaled through your nose, trying to calm yourself. you had been awake for less than five minutes and she had already managed to piss you off.

and over the most ridiculous thing. it couldn’t have been that hard to clean up after herself instead of trying to make it your problem. maybe you didn’t have a job, but she didn’t either. and the only reason you apparently didn’t do anything around the house was because you never did anything to destroy it in the first place.

and because you very rarely left your room when your mother was there. something about her presence left you on edge. there were many times you went hungry just because you didn’t want to pass her in the living room on the way to the kitchen for a snack. for as long as you could remember, the familiar sound of her bracelets rattling and her sandals tapping the floor had made your heart race.

in the middle of trying to undo your frustration, you thought of something. you had woken up in bed, even though you’d most definitely fallen asleep on the couch with sunghoon, and you had no memory of making the journey upstairs. 

which meant he’d carried you.

your heart fluttered. something about that thought - the thought of a bigger, stronger man carrying you - did unspeakable damage to your brain. you knew he was your stepfather, knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help but picture what else he could do with all that strength. 

it was also worth mentioning that you were very vulnerable when you were just lying there innocently, asleep. he could have done anything to you if he wanted. if only he had wanted it.

almost the whole day had passed when, to your surprise, you had gotten a text from jake inviting you to hang out with him again. you had assumed he’d want time to himself after last night. but you wasted no time in getting ready, doing something different with your usually dolly makeup, and putting on a miniskirt to seem a little more mature.

you had been close to walking out of the front door, hurriedly walking past sunghoon and your mother who were sitting in the living room, until you heard your mother say, “come back. now.”

you slowly grinded to a halt, muttering annoyances to yourself, and forced a smile as you spun on your feet. “yes, mother dearest?”

“where the hell are you going at this time of night looking like a whore?” she asked, snappy.

you tried to take that in stride, but it was hard. she never failed to hurt your feelings.

your mother didn’t even give you the opportunity to respond before she demanded, “take that off.”

you stood your ground. “no.”

your mother looked at you like she wanted to lunge at you. ever since you had turned eighteen, which wasn’t even that long ago, you had gotten bolder. “if you leave wearing that, you’re just begging for it. don’t come crying to me if something happens.”

your eyes stung. how could she say something like that?

sunghoon made a face and put a hand on her shoulder, trying to stop her before she went too far. “doll,” he said to you, taking over. “i know you’re an adult now, but we still want you to be safe. i don’t know where you’re going, but i don’t trust this world enough to honor that wish. can you change, please? for me?”

switching on a dime, you replied meekly, “okay, daddy,” and went back upstairs to change your skirt.

your mother gawked in disbelief. then her expression flashed to anger. “why does she listen to you and not to me?”

“you called her a whore,” sunghoon replied, unsurprised. “i wouldn’t have listened, either.”

“i said she looked like one.”

sunghoon sighed. “that doesn’t make it any better. you know she’s sensitive. either way, you shouldn’t have said that.”

your mother said nothing, sulking. in her mind, it didn’t matter the delivery. she was your mother and she didn’t enjoy being disrespected.

the skirt you changed into was a little longer, at the least halfway down your thighs. you had been quick to change, grateful your bed was still littered in pile of skirts you’d handpicked (and would unfortunately have to clean later), and rushed outside to slide into the passenger seat of jake’s car.

the party he took you to tonight was better than the last one, at least. there were probably still people smoking and partying hard, but jake had you in the kitchen, where thankfully few people were.

jake handed you one of two red plastic cups with some kind of liquid in them. “here you go, baby.”

though you accepted the cup, you looked at it with scrunched brows, then back up at him. “what is this?”

“a mix of things,” jake replied with extreme vagueness. “just try it, sweetheart.”

you didn’t question him, just turning the cup up like it was juice, which you quickly realized couldn’t have been further from the truth. you grimaced, ears and throat burning, and put a hand on your chest. “what the fuck?”

jake furrowed his brows, feigning innocence. “you don’t like it?”

you shook your head. you’d had alcohol before, a few times when you were maybe fifteen and had sneakily took a shot of tequila from your mom’s pantry, but you had grown out of that. plus, you were still underaged in terms of drinking. “no, it burns,” you complained. “i’m not supposed to drink anyway.”

“you have such a stick up your ass,” jake teased, taking the cup from you and throwing back a gulp like it was nothing. he was only a year older than you, nineteen, and had no business drinking, either.

you shook your head in disapproval, though you knew it probably wasn’t much worse than him smoking.

“here,” he said, giving you the other cup he had been holding. this one was clear. “try this one. i think you’ll like it.”

you were reluctant, considering how much you disliked the first one he’d given you, but with how expectantly he was looking at you, you grabbed the cup and took a tentative taste. your eyes widened. it tasted like juice. 

jake chuckled at your reaction. “good, right?”

you nodded, taking another sip. which became another, and another, until your head started to feel a little woozy. by the time you started to recognize it, you were already more than tipsy.

jake hoisted you into his arms like it was nothing and sat you atop the counter, draping his hands over your exposed thighs. “you look so pretty today,” jake mused aloud, admiring your skirt. “you get all cute for me?”

“yeah,” you murmured, eyes fluttering. it was all you could do to keep them open and suddenly, you wanted to go to bed.

“sleepy drunk, aren’t you?” jake asked, moving his hands to your waist to keep you upright. “heeseung’s room is upstairs. wanna go to bed, baby?”

you did, but certainly not here. you were drunk, not stupid. with you and him alone in a closed bedroom, there was no telling what all he would and wouldn’t do. and the fact that it belonged to heeseung only strengthened your hesitation.

“no, it’s okay,” you told him, shaking your head softly. you gingerly pushed yourself off the counter and onto your feet. “i’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

jake grabbed your hand, not wanting to let you loose just yet. “let me help you.”

“it’s okay,” you repeated, brushing him off. your heart thudded, nervous. “stay here.”

jake begrudgingly let you go, watching you disappear in the crowd with his jaw set. you just always managed to evade him, didn’t you?

you stumbled a little at first, but found your balance, making your way through the flock of other drunk partygoers. you gripped the railing for dear life as you climbed up the stairs, searching for the bathroom.

it was by the grace of god that you were able to find it and lock yourself inside without walking in on a couple trying to touch and feel on each other. you sighed in relief, digging around your bag for your phone. you had to get out of here, now.

with two incorrect attempts, you were able to enter your password and immediately went to your contacts, dialing the one person you knew you needed at a time like this. the one person who you could trust would be there for you no matter what.

sunghoon picked up on the second ring, answering, “hello?”

“daddy?”

even if it was only one word, sunghoon could hear in your tone that something wasn’t right. “yes, doll? is something wrong?”

“i think i messed up,” you murmured, grabbing onto the sink counter to stabilize yourself.

sunghoon’s brows stitched with worry, even if you couldn’t see. “what did you do? are you okay? are you hurt?”

“i don’t feel so good right now,” you replied, feeling drowsy. “i drank and i shouldn’t have, and… can you just come pick me up? please.”

you heard shuffling in the background, like he was already moving. “send me your location.”

fifteen minutes later, give or take, sunghoon called you and told you that he was outside.

you grabbed your phone and unlocked the bathroom door, heading straight for the stairs and making a beeline for the front door, wanting to leave before jake could spot you and do more damage. the second you saw your stepfather’s car, you hurried over, nearly tripping over your own legs.

thankfully, you were able to get inside his car without any problems, shutting the door and dragging the seatbelt over you.

sunghoon glanced at you, relieved to see that you were in one piece, but still worried. “are you okay?”

you nodded your head, sighing in relief just as the seatbelt clicked. “i’m okay,” you said, quiet. “thank you.”

sunghoon knew he should have been scolding you for drinking when you were only eighteen, but he was more concerned about your wellbeing at the moment. “why were you drinking?” he asked softly.

you swallowed, knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer, but you had to be honest. “jake gave me a cup and told me to try it.”

sunghoon exhaled, starting the car. if you were going to talk about jake, it was best that he was far, far away from wherever he was. “he’s no good for you, you know that?”

you turned away and looked out the window, eyes watering. 

sunghoon glanced over for a split second and reached out with his right hand, his left one gripping the wheel. “i don’t mean to make you cry, baby. but you know i’ll never lie to you.”

“i know,” you whispered, trying to fight the tears. god, you hated how you couldn’t control them, how they fell at any minor inconvenience and there was nothing you could do to stop them. 

he would never understand; no one could. the reason you went back to jake even though you knew in your heart of hearts that he was just another boy that would never love you. hell, you hardly understood yourself. it was fair, considering you couldn’t say that you loved him either, but you felt something. 

and it was this unidentified something that kept you tied to him like a knot rather than severing the bond. you didn’t love him, no, you hardly trusted him, but you liked him enough. he was your second best. 

though sunghoon’s eyes were on the road, he still had a tender hand on yours, squeezing it firmly. “why do you keep hurting yourself like this, doll? you’re too smart to be fooling around with boys like that.”

“he’s all i have,” you said, your voice feeble. 

sunghoon’s brows furrowed, confused. “that’s not true. you have me, you have your mom, and you have tons of friends and family that love you. what makes you feel like he’s all you have?”

family i feel disconnected from, friends i only show half of myself to, and an emotionally unavailable mother who wants to control my whole life, you thought with a resentment you had been nursing for years. 

you swallowed it down, even though it was bitter and lingered on your tongue, and answered softly, “because sometimes, when he’s not angry, when he’s not smoking or drinking or trying to hook up, when he’s listening to me and looking at me like i mean something to him, i get to feel like he loves me.”

sunghoon didn’t skip a beat. “and how many times is that, baby?”

that hit you like the ceiling crashing down on your chest. all your life, you had just wanted somebody to love you. you had just wanted to feel like you mattered to someone and you had gone through great lengths just to hear it from another person’s mouth. you had always tried.

the only person in the world you never had to try with was your stepfather. the man had gone out of his way, since you were thirteen years old, to treat you like his own. at first, you had wanted nothing to do with him - not to go to his and your mother’s wedding, not to move to his state, and most definitely not to live in his house. you had convinced yourself from a young age that all men were the same.

but sunghoon was nothing like the father that had abandoned you just when you needed him most and left you to deal with your mother who was incapable of expressing any affection to you in a normal, healthy manner. sunghoon was kind, sweet, loving. he was patient with you, spent quality time with you, spoiled you with gifts and listened to your problems. 

all things your father did when you were a little girl, when everything had been okay, once upon a time. 

it was only natural that you found yourself gravitating towards him more often than not, wanting to be around him, wanting to hear his voice, wanting to hold him and spend every waking moment with him. and it was only even more natural that eventually, your heart began to flutter around him. 

but you suppressed it, because you weren’t that dumb. you knew there were no chances of him reciprocating your feelings, not when he loved you with the love of a father. but the nipping void inside you was still there, and it had never felt more empty. 

you knew it would be a bad idea to look at sunghoon, so you kept your eyes fixed on the gleaming towers and lights shimmering on the water as he crossed a bridge. “i know it doesn’t make sense,” you willed yourself to respond. “it doesn’t make sense to me, either.”

for a moment, sunghoon was silent. he may not have understood, but he wanted to deliver his words in the right way. in the end, he chose compassion. “feelings don’t always make sense, especially not right away, and especially not when you’re young and experiencing them for the first time. but that doesn’t mean you have to let them control you.”

arms crossed, you grumbled, “easier said than done.”

“i know it is, doll,” sunghoon whispered. “i know it is.”

something in his tone made you finally turn to face him. your eyes glimmered and you begged, “please, don’t tell mom.”

sunghoon looked conflicted, like he was weighing his options, but he knew what the most effective choice would be. “i won’t, but you can’t keep doing stuff like this, kiddo. it worries me.”

if there was anything you hated, it was that pet name. “i’m not a kid. i’m eighteen.”

“and thirty days,” sunghoon added dryly.

he said that like it meant something. you retorted, “what, are you keeping track?”

“i’m just good at quick math.”

you scoffed. it was probably true, considering all the things you saw him calculating when it came to complicated business things you never understood, but that didn’t make it any better. “okay. how old are you?” you asked knowingly. 

“thirty-nine.”

“what’s thirty-nine minus eighteen?”

“twenty-one,” sunghoon answered without any forethought.

more than twice my age. you knew that. not that it was hard to figure out, but that wasn’t the point. at some point, you had become obsessed with those numbers, crafting a delicate list of reasons why it could never work with your stepfather. the age gap, the marriage, the this and the that. 

but on the other hand, none of those things really mattered to you. you may have still been young, but you were an adult now. a legal adult. 

“besides,” sunghoon continued, seemingly unaware of where your mind had wandered. “i’ll always worry about you, no matter how old you are.”

your heart did exactly what you didn’t want it to do, what you had been trying to fight against for god knows how long now; it soared. 

if you weren’t regretting your night enough already, you definitely were by the time you went inside the house, realizing everything you had to do before you dropped into bed. “god, i have to shower and take off my makeup,” you grumbled, walking with a stammer. 

sunghoon kicked his shoes off by the door and grabbed your hand, lest you fell and hurt yourself. “i’ll help you.”

your eyes flickered in surprise. “you don’t have to do that.”

“it’s okay,” sunghoon replied, already steering you upstairs. “you need some guidance.”

you didn’t know what he meant by that, or maybe you did and you were simply in denial, but you didn’t ask. 

sitting you atop the counter in your bathroom, sunghoon picked out the pack of makeup wipes that were already sitting there and gently began to wipe your face, pushing a stray braid behind your ear. he seemed focused, eyes squinting and his thicks brows furrowing.

you were focused too, watching him intently the entire time. it was difficult to ignore the way your heart raced when he got so close, the way your body seared with heat when he touched your cheek. it wasn’t necessarily even affectionately, which only served to make you more disappointed in yourself.

but sometimes, when you were staring hard enough, much like right now, you noticed more than just how handsome he was. you noticed the little scrunch of his brows when he was concentrating, you noticed the way his chest rose and fell as he breathed. when it was as quiet as it was right now, you could even hear his breathing almost as subtle as the faint scent of cologne on him that had worn throughout the day.

maybe it was somewhat obsessive, but you didn’t do it on purpose. sunghoon made it easy to tune the world out and ignore everything that wasn’t him.

after washing your face, sunghoon grabbed you something to wear and asked, “need anything else, doll?”

“no, daddy. i’ve got it,” you replied, grabbing a towel for your shower. the water was running behind the curtains. “thank you.”

sunghoon grinned softly and bent down to press his lips to your forehead in a tender kiss. “goodnight, baby,” he whispered.

“g’night, daddy.”

the door closed. you hated knowing that you were alone, that he wasn’t right there with you. at times, you got tempted to do things you used to do when you were younger, crawling into bed with him in the middle of the night, but it wouldn’t be appropriate. no matter how much you hated being separated.

you usually liked to milk time with him for all that it was worth, especially because he was always working. you stole the seat beside him at the dinner table, you watched him mend items in the house, and you spent a lot of time on the couch of his study when he was taking calls and doing paperwork. 

once you had gotten redressed after your shower, you slipped into bed with a sigh. there was always tomorrow.

the cereal boxes were pushed too far back again. 

you couldn’t reach them. even standing on your tippy toes, waving your hand aimlessly in hope of even scraping the damn corner of a box of cinnamon toast crunch, they were just too far. “ugh,” you whined, irritated.

sunghoon watched. his eyes were less on your challenging endeavor and more on the swell of your ass peeking from underneath your tiny nightgown as you rose off the heels of your feet onto your toes, noticing the way it jiggled when you stood normally again. there was a pang of guilt in his chest, watching you like that, but at the end of the day, sunghoon was just a man.

“i’ll get it,” sunghoon insisted, standing up from the bar to swing over without even having to ask which one you wanted. he routinely saw you only eat the same cereal.

you thanked him when he grabbed the box of cinnamon toast crunch and placed it securely into your hands. walking over to the counter where the milk and bowl were waiting, you noticed sunghoon come up behind you. at first, you thought he was just watching for whatever reason, so you ignored the thud in your chest at his proximity and poured the cereal. 

then, you carefully grabbed the milk, not wanting to spill it accidentally. you had been guilty of that before. without warning, his hands dropped below your waist and cupped your cheeks, making your eyes go wide. “daddy,” you gasped out, bemused. “what are you doing?”

sunghoon shushed you, giving your neck a fleeting kiss before he shifted his attention back downwards, pushing your nightgown up so that it would bunch around your hips. “quiet,” he whispered.

“daddy, the milk,” you whined, having lost control of your grip when he touched you, catching you by surprise. 

most of it had spilled out of its container, the bowl overflowing with streams of milk dripping off the counter that would stink if not cleaned soon enough. but some of it had splashed onto your face, chest and tummy. “shh,” sunghoon repeated. “don’t worry about it. you can milk something else.”

your face warmed in realization just as he began to press himself against you from behind, and the very big, very hard bulge in his pants made your mouth run dry.

or maybe it was the morning breath. because you woke up, sighing quietly at first, and turned to stretch your arm from underneath your blankets.

“what the fuck,” you grumbled a few minutes later when it dawned on you exactly what kind of dream you’d just had. 

sure, you’d had dreams about sunghoon before, but they were nothing to write home about; they were entirely random and didn’t make logical sense, or they were simple and mundane, and very often, you didn’t realize they were dreams at first because they were so realistic that they could have been memories.

that was definitely a dream. you couldn’t imagine sunghoon doing anything like that to you. well, you certainly could, but that wasn’t the point. it wasn’t realistic whatsoever, other than him extending himself to help you.

it made you horny to think about. everything about the dream had physically felt so real to you; sunghoon’s hands on your ass, his bulge pressing against you from behind, and his warmth radiating onto you hotly enough to make you melt.

part of you was tempted to go back to bed, ignoring the faint chirps of birds outside your window and the light reaching through white and pink curtains. if only you could have stayed asleep a little longer, just to see how it ended. if only sunghoon would have ever felt that way about you too, then maybe it could become true.

but he wouldn’t. and even if he somehow did, sunghoon was at work by now. so you did the one you never thought you would do. 

“hello?” jake said when he picked up the phone. 

your heart sped. you were about to propose something that you were none too sure about, but something had to be done about the festering ache between your legs. your fingers weren’t satisfying you anymore; they hadn’t in years. “jake,” you whispered. “hi.”

“hi,” jake repeated dryly, wondering what you wanted. you could hear in his tone that he still wasn’t particularly thrilled about last night.

you swallowed the lump in your throat. “i’m sorry for running away last night,” you murmured. “i didn’t want to abandon you like that. i was just… scared.”

jake made a noise, but it was so quiet and distorted that you couldn’t decide what to make of it. “you were scared,” he replied, echoing your words again.

you gave a deep, prolonged exhale. you knew that you were running out of time with him, that one day, he would grow sick of your excuses and your stalling. “i knew that… you were trying to have sex,” you explained. “and i didn’t… i didn’t feel comfortable. i was drunk. and then you said we were going to heeseung’s room, and i got even more worried.”

“why?”

“i don’t like heeseung,” you admitted, although you thought it would be obvious by now. “he looks at me weird.”

“baby,” jake sighed. you could hear how frustrated he was. “heeseung’s not gonna hurt you. he just likes to have a little fun. but if it makes you feel better, i’ll try to keep him in line.”

you were only half relieved. “thank you.”

“now, is that why you called me? to tell me heeseung makes you uncomfortable?” he asked. 

“no,” you stammered, playing with the hem of your shirt in attempt to distract yourself from your nerves. “there’s something else i wanted to tell you.”

“what is it, sweetheart?”

you blurted, “i think i’m ready.”

you could practically feel jake perk up. “like, seriously?” he asked, stunned. 

“yeah,” you replied, but it weak. there was a bit of regret in your chest when the word left your mouth, but you tried to swallow it down and keep it there. “i’m ready, jake. right now.”

jake was ruffling through something, probably his drawer. “shit,” he said, excited. you wondered if his heart was beating even half as fast as yours was. “where are you right now?”

“home.”

“can i come over?”

“yeah,” you muttered again. he lived far enough that you had time to wash up a little and get your mind together. “my dad is at work and my mom probably won’t be home until later. it’s just me.”

“i’m on the way,” jake said without missing a beat, quickly hanging up. 

you took a deep breath, trying to relax yourself. jake was your boyfriend. you were supposed to call him when you had needs; itches that needed scratching.

it was a conflict that had been warring in your mind for weeks, maybe subconsciously months. on the one hand, your lust was only centered around sunghoon and you were afraid of having sex with jake for more reasons than one. but on the other, the human desire for release had ran to a peak and now it was unignorable, your body begging to be satiated.

you knew what the most prudent choice would have been: dumping jake, getting over these unrational feelings for your stepfather, and no longer settling for men that treated you as less than what you deserved. but what did you look like being alone again, waiting for someone to decide they loved you, especially when your heart belonged to someone who could never be yours?

clearly, you were in no way in the position to make prudent choices. not when the need burning inside you outweighed the reason.

time went by faster than you thought, considering that jake didn’t particularly live nearby. you had spent the better half of that time in your own head, wondering what would happen, and the sound of the doorbell ringing jolted you out of your thoughts.

your heart was pounding with all its might as you made deliberately slow, steadys steps down the stairs and to the front door where you knew jake would be waiting. seeing his face when you opened the door only made you more anxious.

jake, on the other hand, beamed when he saw you. you weren’t sure if you had ever seen him smile at you like that before. “hey, baby,” he greeted, stepping inside.

“hi,” you murmured, shutting the door behind him.

jake coiled his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest. his alluring, familiar scent put you at ease a little more. “i missed you,” he whispered, fingers sliding underneath your shirt to draw patterns on your navel, almost as if he could sense your need for comfort. “you ran off on me last night.”

your smile was sheepish as you apologized again, “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay. i know why you did it,” jake said, glancing around as you led him out of the foyer little by little. “i just realized i’ve never been inside your house.”

that was not only true, but intentional; for obvious reasons, you didn’t want to be in the house with jake by yourself, but you also didn’t want him around your parents, either. your mother would find some way to embarrass you and the few times sunghoon and jake had met, there was strange tension in the air.

based on your mother’s behavioral patterns and those interactions alone, you had made the unilateral decision that it would be better for everyone involved if you kept your relationship with jake outside. “yeah,” you said, happy to think about anything but what was to come. “it’s better that way, don’t you think?”

jake chuckled, nodding his head. when he saw the stairs, he instinctively started heading that way. “yeah. i don’t think your dad likes me very much.”

“he’s just protective,” you replied, although you remembered sunghoon telling you outright that he didn’t like your boyfriend. 

“you don’t need protecting from me,” jake told you, slipping his hand down from your navel to your hand as you started up the steps. “have you been telling him mean things about me?”

define mean, was what you answered in your head. if anything, you had probably described jake too kindly, too gently. he had never hurt you, at least in the sense that he had never put his hands on you, but he was aggressive in other, more hurtful ways. “no, i told him the truth.”

“and what’s the truth?”

“that i love you,” you lied. “and i want to do this with you.”

jake looked like the happiest man alive, and something told you that it was unusual for him to be more enthusiastic in this moment than almost any other moment he’d spent with just the two of you. but the fear that had kept you close to him for so long was the same fear that had held you apart, and it was the same fear telling you to be silent.

but when jake opened the door to your bedroom, his face fell. “what’s all this?” 

your brows furrowed. “…my bedroom?”

“yours?” jake echoed, apparently appalled as he scanned your bedroom from left to right. 

the main culprit, however, seemed to be the miscellaneous plushies thrown about your bed. “oh,” you whispered, confused. your mother had found it childish and voiced her unwanted opinion every now and then, but you never thought it was so bad. 

jake scoffed, “what are you, thirteen? i’m not fucking you on that.”

“but, jake,” you started, noticing him turning back around. your stomach churned. he was leaving. 

shaking his head, jake threw the door open and said, “you really have to grow up, baby.”

you followed him, frantic. you knew he could your footsteps as you trailed behind him down the stairs, but he didn’t bother turning around, as if he had already decided he didn’t want to see you anymore. “jake, please don’t go,” you begged.

he didn’t listen. he didn’t even look at you, not until he made it to the front door and said, “goodbye,” followed by your name. then, he walked out the door, passing your mother on his way out.

as if this afternoon couldn’t get any worse.

as soon your mother stepped through the door, looking like she had been awake for the past twelve hours doing god knows what, she went, “really? you turn eighteen and think you can just do whatever you want? why the hell are you bringing boys over?” 

you were already on the verge of tears and you didn’t have the strength to put up with her, so for the first time in your life, you chose to walk away. she called after you, demanding you to come back, but you ignored it and raced upstairs to your bedroom.

it hurt more than it should have, watching jake leave like that, watching him go despite your pleas. maybe because it felt all too familiar. your brain recognized the feeling belligerently attacking you and your heart weakly surrendered to it, still too broken.

maybe you were always too broken, maybe that was why they never stayed. this is what men do, you told yourself through hot, wet tears. they take what they want, and then when it becomes even a little too much for them, they leave. nothing will change that. they won’t change themselves.

sitting alone by yourself in your closed bedroom with only your stuffed toys to bear witness to your suffering, it still felt humiliating. you had already come to the conclusion that what you felt for jake was not love, at least not of a romantic nature. and yet for the life of you, you couldn’t wrap your head around why it still hurt so bad.

it was a dizzying, throbbing ache that only persisted the longer you sat on the carpeted floor, weeping. for a fleeting moment, you were twelve again, old enough to recognize your first heartbreak but not enough to put a name to it. you remembered like it was yesterday, watching your father’s back as he walked out of the door, hauling the last of what he would bring with him into his new life, and leaving you in the old chapter.

there was a certain shape of hopelessness that you’d molded into, the loud, petty arguments and traded hits culminating in the few seconds it took to realize that you didn’t mean as much as a toothbrush, a watch, a box of wrenches or an old, wrinkled tee. because if you had, maybe he would have taken you, too.

and maybe if you meant more to jake than what was between your legs, he would still be here now. denying him sex for so long made you feel powerful; he was wrapped around your finger at some point, submissive, so to speak, and willing to do anything with the hopes that you would give it up. you took advantage of that. you used him so that for once in your life, you could feel wanted and in control.

and as you had ultimately come to expect, your woeful thoughts soon wandered to the greatest manifestation of your desires so far: sunghoon. it only seemed just that the world would taunt and tantalize you with the most perfect man you’d ever known, the only one you could ever trust with your heart. 

the cards had been dealt so that you had just enough access to admire how much of a dream he was, but not enough to let you slip away; you could doze off, vaguely picturing what it would be like in a world where the steep heights and pitless hollows of your affection could be reciprocated, but every time, you would be jolted back awake.

the more you thought about it, there had to be a reason why you seemed to want things more after coming to find there was no feasible way you could make them yours - because you wanted control. 

control, particularly over your own life, was something you had long wanted yet long been denied. you wanted to be able to make decisions for yourself without having your circumstances be shaped around the decisions of others. you didn’t want to suffer the consequences of a choice you had no say in. you wanted to reap what was rightfully yours. 

seeing someone like sunghoon, someone that you knew you could never have, only made him attractive tenfold. until now, you never noticed how this manifested similarly in other parts of your life, like in your overwhelming urge to prove yourself. to be the adult it seemed like everyone doubted you could be.

that’s why it’s so hard for me to accept denial and handle rejection, you rationalized as you peeled yourself off the floor and onto your bed, having finally stopped sobbing. because i’ve been denied simple pleasures my whole life, and yet people try to deny me even more.

thinking back to the little girl you once were, the one that was full of life and imagination, the one that foolishly had hoped her mother and father would stay together, the one that was innocent and naive, and knew nothing about how brutal reality truly was, you couldn’t help but burst into tears all over again.

because that little girl didn’t deserve to have to grow up so quickly. if you could have undone it all, if you could have spared that little girl the trauma of crying herself to sleep as she heard her parents arguing down the hall, if you could have stopped her dad from leaving for years, if you could have stopped her mom from inviting man to man into her life, you would have done it in a heartbeat.

and then there was the part of you that had always craved romance, the part of you that remained unfulfilled. combining this lifelong grapple with control with an unattainable lover, it was no secret why you wanted to prove the stars wrong. 

just this once, you wanted to know that you deserved good things too.

after a long moment of drifting between the sickness in your mind that had been infecting  your thoughts, you eventually cried yourself to sleep. it was something you hadn’t done in years, but when you woke up, you almost felt better.

you dragged yourself out of bed and slipped on your house shoes, trudging downstairs while mumbling prayers about how you hoped you wouldn’t bump into your mother. you knew she would give you an earful about earlier. 

to your surprise, rather than your mother, sunghoon was in the kitchen. he turned when he heard your heavy footsteps. “hey, doll,” he said, shutting the refrigerator.

you grumbled a response and waved weakly, moving past the island so that you could join him near the refrigerator. you would have opened it yourself, but sunghoon beat you to it, handing you a water.

when your eyes widened a little in surprise, sunghoon snickered and asked, “what else do you drink?”

he had a good point there. it was rare you drank anything but water in the house, not that you had a specific reason for it. it was just a habit you hadn’t broken. “and what if i was hungry?” you asked playfully, accepting the water from his hands.

“you wouldn’t have touched the refrigerator, because you always get everything delivered.”

you gasped in mock offense. “hey, i cook sometimes!”

sunghoon chuckled. “yes, you do, doll. but i know not to expect you to cook anything if you look like you just crawled out of bed.”

you hummed, sitting down at the island and twisting the cap off the water. you didn’t realize how long you had been asleep, but it had to have been a while if sunghoon was home. 

sunghoon followed you, sitting beside you. he didn’t say anything for a minute, wanting to carefully think over his words so that they came out as intended. “i went up to your room earlier to talk to you about something, but you were sleeping, so i left you alone.”

you glanced over at him, finishing your swig before you asked, “talk about what?”

“your mother wants me to address your… disobedience, as she puts it,” sunghoon started levelly. 

you sighed, slamming your head against the counter. of course, she did. “i guess she told you jake was here earlier?”

“she did.”

you were almost certain that that woman just didn’t want you to breathe. she had been able to control you less and less over the years, and the more you resisted, the more determined she seemed. like mother, like daughter. “well, it’s your house. if you don’t want me to have boys over, then fine, i respect that. but she doesn’t have the right to police me.”

“it’s not just the boy,” sunghoon replied, although he had his own set of grievances about that. “she feels like you’re becoming rebellious in general.”

you almost rolled your eyes. “and why couldn’t she tell me that herself?”

sighing, sunghoon said, “because she pointed out that you only seem to listen to me, not her.”

“yeah, because it’s surprising i’m more inclined to obey someone who knows how to have an actual conversation than someone who just wants to yell and doesn’t care to hear me,” you retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm. “daddy, she’s been trying to control my life since forever. i’m sick of it.”

“i know how you feel, doll, but you haven’t exactly been making smart choices lately, either,” sunghoon answered gently, resting a hand on your knee. “like your boyfriend, for example.”

“i told you, i don’t like him.”

sunghoon didn’t skip a beat. “and i asked you, why are you dating him, then?”

“god, you just don’t get it,” you grumbled, opening your water bottle to take another large gulp.  

“then, explain it to me,” sunghoon said gently, eyes meeting yours with a reservoir of adoration. “make me get it. i’m here to listen to you, baby girl. i want to understand you, but i can’t do that if you don’t let me in.”

but you couldn’t let him in, not that far, because then he would see something that startled him. it was easier to break your own heart over and over than it was to risk his opinion of you changing, all for some closure. “i don’t want to talk about it.”

sunghoon heaved a breath. he absolutely despised when you froze him out. he wasn’t stupid; he noticed that you were only this less forthcoming when it came to the topic of your boyfriend that he couldn’t understand for the life of him why you kept seeing. every time he thought he’d had a productive conversation with you about him, sunghoon heard something else about that boy.

something more infuriating than the last.

you stood up from the barstool, an idle box of cereal on top of the refrigerator catching your eye as you did, and you remembered the dream you’d had about him that inspired everything to happen today. “i love you, daddy,” you whispered, throwing your arms around him. “thank you for trying.”

“i’ll always try,” sunghoon told you, voice featherlight.

you believed him, you truly did, but it hurt to think that he was the only man that would ever say that to you and mean it. “i know.”

sunghoon placed a hand on his shoulder before you could leave, hoping to get one more sentence in. “i know it’s not easy for you, doll, but can you try to appease your mother every now and then? for me?”

you stifled a sigh, nodding your head. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do, daddy,” you murmured.

sunghoon smiled softly and pat your shoulder.

for the next couple of days, you pathetically waited by your phone, hoping to hear from jake again. normally, he would text you the day or two after an unresolved argument, apologizing profusely until you gave him a satisfactory answer.

or in other words, until you forgave him. but on the third day, you knew something was wrong. you hadn’t even argued, and yet he was ignoring your existence as if you had committed the most unjustifiable crime against humanity ever recorded.

this is really it, you thought fretfully, heart swelling with dread. he doesn’t want me anymore.

you tried to act like it didn’t hurt, like he didn’t wield this immense power over you, but you knew you were lying to yourself. and that jake had lied to you. he had said that you could never disappoint him, after all, but you were fairly certain that ship had sailed.

it was half past noon when you noticed a notification on your phone from one of your friends, an attachment with a text that read, hey, did you break up with jake? just asking because someone sent me a photo of him kissing another girl yesterday night.

surely enough, the attached image was of jake swallowing some other girl’s face, blurry in quality, but you knew your boyfriend’s face when you saw it. he had his hands round her waist, holding her close exactly like how he’d held you, only it seemed like it’d been so long since he’d touched you like that.

only one minute ago, you had been convinced that you had no more tears left to cry. staring at the image, pieces of your wounded heart dropping heavily to your stomach, you didn’t realize you were crying until the phone went black by itself and you faintly saw your reflection in its screen, mirroring you.

whatever had happened between you and jake the other day, you didn’t consider it a breakup. it was your understanding that you were still together, given that he hadn’t necessarily said something to indicate the opposite. maybe you were mistaken, but that didn’t make it feel like anything less of a betrayal.

but to call it a betrayal implied some level of trust, a level deeper than you thought you had possessed. your feelings for jake were complicated, but you knew that you had trusted him not to stab you in the back the second it was turned. you had trusted him to take care of you, to protect you. you had trusted him not to hurt you.

now that you thought about it, you weren’t sure why. the past couple of weeks alone had been hell, his advances becoming more frequent than ever now that you had turned eighteen, and he had always shown signs of wavering. but you ignored them. you were desperate to fill the void left behind by every man you’d ever loved.

torn from head to toe with the sting of emotion, you pushed open your bedroom door and went straight for your parents room. fortunately, it was empty, neither of them home to watch you sulk; the last thing you wanted was for your stepfather to see you sobbing over a boy he hated, and for your mother to say that she told she so.

the first place you touched was the closet, where you knew sunghoon kept his hoodies. you missed him. you missed him in ways you’d never genuinely known him, or felt him, or possessed him. perhaps it would have made more sense to say that you longed for him, but in your heart, those moments you’d dreamt of felt real sometimes.

taking one of his cozy, black hoodies down from where they hung, you hurriedly threw it on, quickly engulfed by its size. it was comforting. the smell was, too. if you closed your eyes, you could pretend that sunghoon was there, holding you in his arms and whispering in your ear that everything would be okay in the end.

you pinched the loose material of the hoodie that was dropping around your body as you sat on the floor and held it to your nose, eyes fluttering closed. he had been wearing it around the house a lot lately. you were very fond of the way he smelled. it was heavenly and masculine, but also safe and familiar.

it was uniquely his own, and, breathing in the scent of sunghoon, you exhaled calmly, pretending that he could want you.

his scent had another effect on you, too. it made you feral, to say the least. though you were mostly used to it, when you saw him for the first time after a while, it made you feel like a ferocious animal, hungry with lust and ready to pounce.

for a moment, you tried to be stronger. you tried to pull yourself together and remind yourself that this man was your stepfather, the man who was married to your mother. but the shame could only contend with the gravity of want for so long until one finally emerged triumphant.

you pulled the hoodie over your head and stared at it for a second, like you were giving yourself one final chance to not do something you’d regret, but lust prevailed over reason.

with nothing to hold you back, you wiggled out of your favorite pair of tiny house shorts, temporarily tossing them aside. you grabbed a hold of the hoodie and bunched it into shape between your thighs, slowly rocking your hips into it.

your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to think of something that would help get you off, every thought you were capable of developing revolving around your stepfather. what most of them had in common, however, was the vivid picture of sunghoon on top of you, weight crushing you hard as he rutted into you nice and deep.

it was too arousing to think about, what he would feel like buried so many inches deep inside you, face tensing as he fucked you with total abandon. you wanted him to lose self restraint, to whisper in your ear that he loved you, that he wanted you, that he needed you. and only you.

your needy hips moved faster. the muscles in your thighs were spasming, your whole body alive with the sparks of desire that were killing you slowly. breathy pants escaped your mouth, your jaw slacking as your body worked harder to exhale. you couldn’t breathe through the thick, muddled haze of your uncontrollable hunger.

how could you? the mere sight of sunghoon made your heart hammer sometimes, because it knew what it wanted. your entire body, at this point, knew what it wanted, but more importantly, it knew what it needed. you couldn’t shake the idea that sunghoon was good for you. that he was meant for you.

maybe thinking of sunghoon as some exquisite gift sent from the gods as a reward for enduring so much in so little time, rather than a titillating manifestation of everything you wanted but could never have, was merely an extreme sign of desperate coping, but you couldn’t help yourself. you deserved him, more than your mother ever would.

you could make him feel so good, if he only gave you the chance. if he only let loose for a moment and let himself indulge in the wonders between your legs that called out for him and sang his name. you didn’t know what you were thinking, almost letting another man claim what was so surely his, even if he didn’t know it yet.

one of your hands pushed up your skirt and you squeezed your breasts, imagining it was sunghoon’s bigger, stronger hand instead. your hips were now moving with a mind of their own, rough pants getting louder, and you thought of sunghoon touching you with just as much fervor and need. it felt more like you were hoping.

the heat in your core finally reached its peak and you orgasmed with a shaky moan, trying to milk the high for all it was worth, but the relief disappeared just as quickly as it had come. you sighed, hole throbbing emptily, and you inspected the hoodie for any signs of your arousal leaking through your underwear.

you pushed it aside and lied down on the floor, catching your breath as you tried to shake the guilt. you hated how much of a slave you were to this insatiable need, sinning in return for only a fleeting second of relief. but more than that, you hated settling. if you had it your way, sunghoon would have been fucking you every night.

the thought made your thighs clench against each other. sometimes, you foolishly hoped sunghoon would come into your room at night and ravage you in your sleep, fucking you awake. you knew he was so tired when he came home from work. he deserved to come home to a young, tight hole. and he deserved to use it whenever he wanted, however he wanted.

knees kicking up, your eyes shifted underneath your parents’ bed, and you noticed something hidden underneath. your curiosity got the better of you and you reached out to grab it. a tiny box came into your hands, and for a moment, you just looked at it, wondering what was inside.

there was no better way to find out than having a look yourself. you figured it was sunghoon’s, given that it was on his side of the bed, and that knowledge only made you want to open it more; you were itching to know everything about him.

your brows furrowed when you opened the box. the first thing you saw was a picture of a teenaged girl, maybe about thirteen or fourteen. you were confused about why he had it, but there were more pictures stacked beneath. the more you glanced through them, the more you realized she looked a little too much like sunghoon.

those cute, deep dimples, his deep, honey eyes, and his peachy, plump lips. you gasped, coming to only one reasonable conclusion: this was his daughter. but if true, why had you never seen her, or heard him speak about her?

you had to assume that he loved her. for one, he was keeping pictures and belongings of her beneath his bed. other than the photos, you saw a necklace with an initial that wasn’t his own, a charm bracelet, a bottle of feminine perfume and other items. a part of you felt like this was something you weren’t supposed to see, and out of respect, you put everything back just as you had found it and slid the box underneath the bed.

it felt like a violation of privacy and there was a pang of regret in your chest, but you couldn’t help but have questions. though sunghoon would be coming home later than usual tonight, so even if you somehow mustered the courage to ask him, it would be a while before you got the opportunity.

you reached out to grab your shorts and put them back on. the only thing left for you to take care of was sunghoon’s hoodie, which you weren’t sure what to do with. you could have put it back as if nothing had ever happened, but you would have felt bad if you didn’t wash it.

so, you did. mostly everything you did from that point on was to distract yourself from thinking about sunghoon. every now and then, you remembered what had happened with jake and there was a throbbing ache in your chest, but you pushed the thoughts away. 

it was easier to think about sunghoon, to wonder how many things you really knew about him, this man that had taken on the role of father for the past five years of your life. after all, it was never him coming to you for advice on life, but you supposed that made sense. he was older than you, had gone through many of the things you were experiencing for the first time, and had the benefit of hindsight.

still, you were curious about him and the many years that had shaped him into the person he was now. were they kind? every person had their fair share of hardships and encounters with adversity, at least in some fashion, but you hoped he’d had it relatively easy. you knew what it was like to suffer and you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy, much less him.

the efforts to distract yourself went on for so long that you even ended up making dinner, considering that your mother wasn’t home for whatever reason and you figured sunghoon would be hungry when he came back; you were hungry, and you hadn’t even done anything but think about him excessively.

like clockwork, sunghoon came in through the foyer and went to the kitchen, spotting you putting the finishing touches on dinner. “you’re cooking?”

you laughed at his surprise and nodded your head, turning off the stove. “i’m basically finished now,” you chirped, donning oven mittens. “i told you, i cook sometimes.”

sunghoon leaned against the counter, watching you take a pan out of the oven. “smells good,” he commented, humming in approval. “is your mother home?”

“nope,” you replied, setting the pan down on the stove. you had no idea where she was, nor did you care as long as she was safe.

“mm.”

you turned around to face sunghoon, taking a deeper look at him. he looked tired, exhausted even. you knew he would always deny how bad it was, though. “hungry?”

sunghoon bobbed his head and set a hand on his stomach. “starving.”

you and sunghoon sat down at the table beside each other and ate dinner, talking in between bites. your heart warmed to see how delighted he was while eating, the smile on his face at the first spoonful putting one on yours. your relationship with your mother had always been strained, but you had to thank her for teaching you how to cook.

while you had contemplated bringing up what you had seen earlier during dinner, every time you tried willing yourself to mention it to sunghoon, you got nervous and didn’t follow through. it wasn’t like it was something you were supposed to know about and you knew that by mentioning it, you would be telling on yourself.

not only that, but you didn’t know how sunghoon would feel about telling you about it, or if he would even want to talk about it. the last thing you wanted to do was overstep your boundaries, which was something you probably had already done the second you went into his bedroom and pried into his personal belongings.

after the dishes were washed, something sunghoon volunteered to help you take care of, you followed him into the living room where he usually went to relax after work. you managed to stay quiet for all of fifteen minutes before the guilt overwhelmed you and you apologized, “i’m sorry.”

sunghoon turned his attention way from the television to look at you, brows furrowing. “for what?”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. you could have gotten away with it, but it didn’t feel right not to mention. “i went into your room today.”

sunghoon didn’t mind you being in his bedroom, but it was unusual that you were there when you had your own. “why?”

you smiled anxiously, fidgeting with your hands. that was the important part. you left out what you had done with the hoodie, deciding he didn’t need to know that. “i just did,” you replied, your voice quiet. “but that’s not the part i’m apologizing for. i saw something under your bed. and, i looked through it.”

sunghoon’s face changed, something more melancholy tensing his features. “oh.”

“i’m sorry,” you repeated, faint. the look on his face made you feel even more guilty than you already had.

sunghoon pat the top of your head, as if he knew that you needed the reassurance. “it’s okay,” he said, smiling thinly. “i guess you have questions now, don’t you?”

you nodded reluctantly. those questions were essentially all you had thought about it since you discovered that box underneath his bed. “i do, but… you don’t need to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“it’s alright,” sunghoon replied, exhaling. that shroud of melancholy was still hanging over him. “she was my daughter.”

your heart stopped. “…was?”

for a moment, sunghoon was silent and he didn’t immediately respond. you wondered if you had said the wrong thing, overthinking everything you were doing. he exhaled yet another breath and replied, “she passed away six years ago. car accident.”

that explained everything, but now you felt worse than you had before and it was killing you. “daddy…”

it looked like it pained him to talk about it, but he did it anyway. “i was married before i met your mother,” he explained. “everything was good. we had a few problems, but hey, no marriage is completely perfect. my ex-wife took our daughter out and they were coming back home when they got into a car accident. she wasn’t paying attention. she lived; our daughter didn’t.”

you were silent. you didn’t know what to say.

tensing a little, sunghoon continued, “we had a divorce because i blamed her, and i couldn’t stand to be around her anymore. i don’t think i can ever forgive her for being so reckless.”

“i wish that never happened to you, daddy. you didn’t deserve that,” you said compassionately.

“you lost someone, too.”

the thought of your father left a sour taste, and to be frank, you never wanted to think about him again. “yeah, my dad left me, but at least the bastard’s still alive. if i wanted to talk to him, i could. but you don’t have that option.”

sunghoon’s eyes flitted over you and he reached out to push your hair out of your face. “that’s why i want to protect you, doll. you mean more to me than you will ever know.”

there your heart went again, acting a fool at the smallest words and actions. “you mean a lot to me, too.”

after much internal wavering, sunghoon reluctantly confessed, “i was never going to tell you this, but when i met your mother, part of what i liked about her was that she had a daughter. just a year younger than my daughter would be. and i wanted her back. i wanted her back so badly. so to me, it felt like god was giving me a second chance.”

your eyes flickered. you had always wondered what it was he liked about your mother in the first place. they made a strange pair; he seemed so different from her type, and his personality was much softer than hers. “really?”

“that’s why i tried so hard in the beginning to grow on you. even though it couldn’t have been more obvious that you didn’t want anything to do with me,” he told you lightheartedly. 

you giggled, remembering how much you had been against your mother getting married to this man you barely knew. “you’re a great father,” you whispered. “thank you for not giving up halfway.”

“i’ll never give up on you.”

you were beaming. “i know.”

this conversation had taken a different direction than you had initially expected, but ultimately, you were happy with it. you had been so afraid of him getting upset with you, and though it would have been justified, you knew rationally that it just wasn’t in his nature.

at least, not when it came to you. you had noticed the anger bristling within him when he spoke of the mother of his child; it made you angry on his behalf. but even then, sunghoon’s anger was nothing like the kind you had grown up surrounded with. it wasn’t loud, aggressive, or dangerous. it was quiet, composed, restrained. 

much like the rest of him.

in the time that you had spent thinking about sunghoon’s life and all the secrets it contained, you had figured something out about yourself. “i’m going to break up with jake,” you announced.

though he didn’t expect the topic change, sunghoon couldn’t hide his relief. “what took you so long?”

you chuckled, because that was a good question, to be fair. “well, for one, at least to my knowledge, he hadn’t cheated on me until now,” you retorted.

the anger was back, only this time, you swore it had a more hostile air to it than ever. “he did what?” sunghoon exclaimed.

you shrugged your shoulders. it wasn’t that it didn’t bother you, because it did. come to think about it, it mostly hurt because you would have never done the same thing to him, no matter how much you lusted after your stepfather. 

taking a deep, frustrated breath, you explained, “yeah. long story short, when he came over the other day, it was because i had agreed to have sex with him. but when he saw my room for the first time, he basically called me childish and said he wasn’t doing it there. then he marched out.”

sunghoon shook his head, but he wasn’t surprised. at least you had enough self-respect to end it now. he was starting to become afraid that he would need to shake some sense into you.

jake had served a purpose. he was unbelievably handsome, undoubtedly smart, and told you everything that you wanted to hear. he distracted you from what you were really after, and in return, you ignored what he was really after.

there was a large part of you that felt ashamed for lying to yourself for so long. but now you were being honest. you owed yourself that much. “i was so stupid. part of the reason i didn’t want to have sex with him was because i wanted him to stay, and i wasn’t sure if he would still choose me afterwards. i was scared he would get what he wanted and leave. but the reason i agreed to have sex with him was because i could feel him getting bored and pulling away. and in the end, he left me anyway.”

you had already decided you weren’t going to hold it against him, because you were both guilty of something. you had lied to each other, taken advantage of each other, and bled dry each other. both of you had tried to force something that was never really there. you would never forgive him for cheating, but you could understand him leaving.

sunghoon listened intently, watching your face as you talked about your relationship and what went wrong. he picked out his words, not wanting to be blinded by his lack of disappointment. “you’re not stupid for wanting someone to like you.”

your eyes met his. i want you to like me, you thought to yourself, wishful. “am i stupid for staying even though i knew deep down that it wasn’t really me that he liked?”

“no, doll,” sunghoon replied gently, bracing a hand on your knee. “you’re just disillusioned.”

you chuckled. “you sure you’re not just saying that?”

sunghoon squeezed your knee, giving you comfort that he knew you needed. it would be complicated, you already knew, coping with your feelings for him now that you wouldn’t have jake’s shenanigans to distract you. not that they really ever helped. “you’re young. even your mind has a mind of its own. i think it’s only stupid if you make the same mistake twice.”

you hummed, knowing that that probably wouldn’t be happening. you weren’t the type of person to jump from relationship to relationship. you were too afraid of abandonment for that. you could only handle so many of them before you snapped.

as sunghoon looked at you, he couldn’t help but feel guilty, thinking maybe he should have done more to keep you safe from a boy like that. but you were an adult now, and he was trying to give you the space to take care of yourself on your own. “did you ever really like jake?” he asked after a pause. 

“i think i just liked feeling wanted,” you murmured, ashamed of your own stupidity.

sunghoon let that sink in. he knew you had been dealing with certain insecurities for years, and the thought that he still had yet been able to help you made him feel worthless. “what kind of boyfriend do you want?”

there was a lull of silence as you thought about it thoroughly. you had liked jake because you thought he could be everything you should have wanted, but he wasn’t necessarily your type. “someone who’s tender,” you decided, something jake selectively was. “someone who’s assertive, protective, and takes care of me.”

“mm.”

your heart was racing, but somehow you found the courage to add, “someone like you.”

sunghoon tried to rationalize that, he truly did. in his mind, the idea of wanting someone who embodied the traits of a strong father figure was a perfectly normal desire. but he wasn’t an idiot, and he could hear everything you didn’t say, and recognize the sudden change in your body language.

because you didn’t want a boyfriend; you wanted a father.

sighing, sunghoon relaxes his eyes for a second before he opens them again, taking in how fragile you appear and feel beneath his heavy hands. “doll, you’re my daughter.”

“stepdaughter,” you corrected in a heartbeat.

sunghoon ignored you, continuing, “and you’re so young.”

“i’m eighteen,” you replied, heart thudding so fast you couldn’t stay still. “i’m an adult.”

sunghoon didn’t seem pleased, or convinced for that matter. it was as you feared; he would always see you as this little girl that needed saving. “you may legally be an adult,” sunghoon started, quiet. “but mentally, you are still a little girl.”

that stung. you never knew sunghoon was capable of it until now, but he had really burned you with such few words. your eyes even burned with the threat of tears. “if that’s how you feel,” you murmured, standing up from the sofa.

sunghoon softened, immediately regretting having ever said anything. “doll, wait.”

you didn’t, making a beeline straight for the stairs. you weren’t sure what you were expecting. he thought of himself as your father and he was married to your mother. why would he see you like that?

why did you see him like that?

to make matters worse, sunghoon didn’t follow you. you didn’t turn around, but the lack of footsteps behind you wasn’t lost on your ears. pretending it didn’t bother you, you went to your bedroom, shut the door, and dropped on your bed.

maybe you should have been grateful that your biggest problem in life was unreciprocated feelings. you knew there were all too many things you had to be grateful for, especially things sunghoon provided for you, like education and a nice home and fatherly love. there was no good reason to expect more than that from him. maybe you were just greedy.

or maybe you were needy. at worst, you were a little bit of both, but that wasn’t completely your fault. when bred from incompetence and instability, no one could rationally expect anything but insanity. if no one had ever given you a fair chance at normalcy, then no one could expect you to know how to reinvent yourself into something ordinary.

it was just so exhausting to be continuously rejected, because you were too this or not enough of that. you never knew how to be what anyone wanted. you never knew how to make anyone stay. just once, you wanted someone to care for you the same way you cared about them, and nothing less.

just when you were beginning to accept that you were hopeless, there was a knock on your door. wiping at your eyes, you reluctantly called out, “it’s open.”

sunghoon came in, shutting the door behind him, heart clenching in his chest when he noticed your reddening eyes. “calm down yet?” he asked.

you shrugged your shoulders, but murmured, “i don’t know if i’ll ever calm down.”

he could tell that you didn’t just mean the exchange downstairs; no, whatever storm was raging and rushing within you unbeknownst to him, it was only festering. “i try not to say the wrong things,” sunghoon said, slowly coming to sit beside you on the edge of your bed.

you knew that. it was something you had come to like about him. he was careful, loving. it was never his intention to hurt anyone. but he was only human, and humans made mistakes and had lapses in judgment. “maybe you weren’t wrong. maybe i’m just immature.”

“maybe a little bit,” sunghoon told you, frank, but lighthearted. “but i could have said it a little better.”

you rolled your eyes, almost feeling better already. but the faint echo in your heart had yet to cease. “you don’t need to sugarcoat everything for me all the time, you know.”

sunghoon hummed. you were saying that, but he knew that he could break you into pieces if he wanted. tinier, more insignificant pieces than the ones you already were broken into. but he wouldn’t. he was realizing the full scope of power he wielded over you, and now that he knew, he wanted to be cautious. “i think i understand you now.”

your eyes leapt up to his face, almost like you were begging for that to be true. “what do you mean?”

“why you do the things you do,” sunghoon continued, dabbing at a tear that had fallen down your cheeks. “you don’t want a boyfriend. you want a father.”

saying nothing, you fidgeted with your thumbs and held your breath. you weren’t used to having your heart laid flat on the table.

sunghoon stopped you, setting his palm on the back of your hand. “you want me,” he said, making you wish you could disappear. “and that’s why you kept saying that you didn’t really want jake, but never explained to me why you kept dating.”

you leaned your head on his shoulder. “i love you so much, daddy.”

sunghoon’s heart was pounding in ways it hadn’t in a long time. “i know you do, baby girl. but you know that this isn’t right.”

“i don’t care.”

sunghoon sighed. “i’ve known you since you were thirteen, doll.”

“so? am i thirteen right now?”

“no, but you’re barely legal.”

“i’m legal. you don’t need to put unnecessary adverbs in front of it. i’m not some kid, daddy.”

there was no doubt that sunghoon was trying to change your mind, hoping to say something that would make you realize how foolish this was. too bad for him, you were too far gone. “your mother…,” he started. 

“i don’t care,” you repeated a little harsher. “you told me yourself, you basically married her for me. and all she does is leech off you. i know it and you know it. we don’t even know where she is right now. say that you love her more than you love me, say it!”

“i don’t like your tone right now, doll,” sunghoon told you, stern, but level. 

obeying the silent command in his voice, you quietened, murmuring, “i’m sorry, daddy.”

sunghoon sighed, stuck between a rock and a hard place. he put a hand on your thigh. “but you’re right. i do love you more.”

“then, prove it,” you whispered, inviting him. daring him. prove that you love me. prove that you’re just as sick as i am. prove to me that i have you in every way, that i’m not alone.

sunghoon knew that he shouldn’t. he was considering everything you had failed to acknowledge - your mother, his marriage, proper morality, and the fate of his relationship with you. but where he had been ignorant to your fermenting feelings, he hadn’t failed to notice exactly how much you had grown up.

the way your body had matured. the way you’d began coordinating your signature scents into something that was indisputably yours. the way your taste in fashion had changed from fluffy, pink skirts to short ones that were one wrong move away from flashing your plush cheeks and the cute, thin fabric of your underwear clinging tightly onto your cunt it just hardly concealed.

sunghoon had, too, noticed, and been rather fond of, how you were usually the meekest thing in the world only for him. with enough conditioning, in a world that was darker, he could put a gun in your hand and turn you into his little obedient vixen. you just wanted to heal him, please him, satisfy him.

but it would be wrong. and sunghoon had once prided himself on the fact that he did everything right. he got the most compelling grades in school to prove that he had genuine smarts to pair with his wealth, he went to a top university and worked hard, he got a job straight after graduation, met who he thought was the perfect woman, married her, bought a opulent house with her, and had a beautiful daughter with her.

so what if he still had to repeat a couple of steps, and so what if he had messed up on a few? at least he didn’t mess up on you. the only thing he regretted when it came to you was not completely noticing, not doing more to keep you from struggling.

you were more than just a reclaim of what he had lost. sunghoon didn’t think of his first daughter when he thought of you, not anymore. with you getting older and growing into your own person, your own way of life, it was difficult to see her in you. so, he accepted you as your own person, and in turn, he let go.

but that fact didn’t make him feel any less guilty or conflicted. you were still his stepdaughter, and you trusted him to protect you. your mother trusted him to protect you. everybody trusted him to guide you, steer you, lead you.

looking into his brown, troubled eyes, you instantly knew what it meant. he needed some persuasion, something to hinder his overthinking.

“please,” you pleaded, resting a hand on his lower abdomen just as gingerly as the way he handled you in mind and in body. he was still in his work shirt, broad shoulders catching your eye as you succumbed to the urge to rub your smooth palms over them. 

look at you, begging him to fuck you. gazing up at him with those big, hopeful eyes with a shimmer that was so sweetly sparkling he almost mistook it as innocent. but he knew better. those were eyes that hoped for corruption, that sought comfort in destruction, and that were molded into the puppet of pain.

you lowered your hand again, stopping just shy of his crotch hidden by his work pants. fumbling with the fly, you looked into his eyes, searching for something. any indication that he was resisting. but you only saw him watching like even he didn’t know what he wanted.

it was surprising. you had been half expecting him to put his hand over yours and stop you, to remind you again that this was wrong and he didn’t see you how you saw him, but he just kept his eyes focused on you as if he was trying to see just how far you would go.

testing the waters, you undid his pants and went straight for his cock, the sound of a strained grunt making your cunt clench around emptiness. it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard. you had imagined pulling those sounds out of sunghoon, closed your eyes and immersed yourself in a resewn fabric of another reality, but nothing measured up to hearing it for yourself.

sunghoon knew that things were rapidly approaching the point of no return and he groaned, “doll…”

“make me stop,” you whispered, gently wrapping your fingers around him and moving your hand in a relaxed motion. “make me stop, daddy.”

it wasn’t for lack of trying. sunghoon closed his eyes, wanting to will himself to be the rational person in the room since you had forwent reason entirely, but the second your small, supple hands tightened around his shaft, he knew he had failed.

he didn’t want you to stop. and you you didn’t want to stop, either.

you beamed victoriously, his silence being a telltale sign that he had succumbed to the same infectious wanting that had long plagued you. you moved your hand only a little faster, endeavoring to stroke him hard. it seemed that with every touch and movement of your wrist, his breathing was growing louder, more labored.

when he was fully hard, you had to suck in a gasp. you weren’t sure how you were going to fit every inch of him inside you, and the only thing that seemed clear was that you had your work cut out for you. nevertheless, you still wanted to make him feel good, so you glanced up at him and said sweetly, “tell me what to do. teach me, daddy.”

you caught a quiet, “fuck,” from underneath sunghoon’s breath as he heard what you had said, on the verge of losing his mind altogether, and it was doing unmistakable damage to his psyche. doing the right thing was no longer an option. all that was left was ache and need. without it, you didn’t know who you were.

releasing a shaky breath, sunghoon brushed his thumb against your bottom lip with affection and whispered, “take it in your mouth. go slow and gentle.”

you nodded your head obediently, opening your mouth just wide enough to fit his girth between your parted lips. the first inch was fine; the second inch had its complications, given that you hadn’t adjusted to the pressure of his cock in your mouth and breathing through your nose. by the third, you folded, withdrawing.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured, feeling like you should have at least been able to do that much.

sunghoon shook his head, smiling, and smoothed a hand through your hair. “that’s okay, baby,” he said, understanding. “try again.”

you sucked him into your mouth again, right between your lips, cheeks hollowed and everything, but for some odd reason, you couldn’t relax. you already felt like you were about to gag and it was only the first couple of inches. when you tried to take another, you had to pull back again.

there was a faint burning in the back of your throat. you didn’t even notice that a few tears had fallen from one of your eyes until you pulled your mouth off. you frowned, unable to shake the fear that you would disappoint him somehow if you couldn’t do it.

“you’re okay,” sunghoon reassured you, patting your head. “you’re okay, doll. i promise.”

with another nod, you decided to give it one more go, determined. not only because you wanted to prove yourself, but because you wanted to make him feel good. you couldn’t think of anyone that deserved it more than he did.

this time, sunghoon held your hair comfortably behind your head and caressed the strands as you tried to pleasure him once more, accepting what you could into your mouth bit by bit. you were less tense than before and it enabled you to concentrate on breathing and not overwhelming yourself too quickly.

afraid that you would gag again if you tried to take another inch, you decided to use your hand to take care of the remaining amount that wouldn’t fit. fortunately, it seemed to work; your mouth kept one part of him company, and your hands moved to prevent the other from becoming too neglected.

sunghoon moaned, curses falling here and there. you could feel the wetness soiling your underwear and he hadn’t even done anything yet. his voice was low and deep, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. minute by minute, you became more and more aware of how aroused you were, and your mind, friend and foe, tempted you with pictures of what it would be like to finally have sunghoon inside.

to your surprise, sunghoon cautiously pried you off his cock, making you look up at him and wonder if you had done something wrong, but all he said was, “i don’t want to come yet.”

your thighs squeezed together in excitement. if not now, then later. and if not in your mouth, then hopefully deep, deep inside.

“daddy,” you called out, somewhat timid. “are you gonna fuck me?”

sunghoon was maybe a few seconds away from short-circuiting and it was admirable that he hadn’t done so already, all things considered. he didn’t reply immediately, having to catch his breath. “do you want me to?”

“yes,” you replied in a heartbeat. 

the room felt hot, and sunghoon couldn’t tell if it was real or it was in his head. “say it.”

it was a little awkward for you to say it so bluntly, but given that you had come this far, you might as well. “i want you to fuck me, daddy.”

sunghoon grunted and said something that sounded like, “come here,” as he gingerly pulled you off your knees and back onto your mattress. before you even blinked, he was pressing his lips to yours, enveloping them in a sweet, fiery kiss. 

it felt like a daydream. maybe because you had dreamed of him before and this captured the exact floaty, cloudlike feeling of his arms cushioning your body in a dream, only the speeding thud in your heart making it undeniably real.

you couldn’t liken it to any kiss that you and jake had shared. while you would admit that jake was objectively a good kisser, almost everything you did together lacked passion; there was no spark behind even the most tender of touches. and yet somehow just being this close to sunghoon made your whole body scorch with the fever of suppressed want.

sunghoon slowly forced himself away and began to descend down your body, tugging your shorts down your thighs. heat filled your cheeks when his fingers hooked under your underwear next, but you raised your hips so that he could pull them off. what caught you by surprise, however, was when his tongue flicked over your sensitive flesh.

you gasped, a jolt making your body snap. “wait, daddy, you don’t need to. i’m already wet enough.”

that you were. sunghoon could see plain as day how your wet folds glistened with an arousal that had been building longer than he could ever imagine, gone ignored and neglected no longer. “i know,” he grunted out. “i want to.”

then without another word, sunghoon went to town. he started slow, gentle; his larger hands were firm on your plush thighs as he held them apart, almost as if he expected you to eventually resist him. for now, though, there was no need; he was tasting your devotion on his tongue, in no apparent hurry to let this moment end.

your breaths were becoming increasingly heavy, and a part of you still couldn’t believe that this was really happening - sunghoon was in between your legs, prepared to make you seen every star that hung in the night sky. you did what you could to commit the sight to memory, refusing to let it get away.

sunghoon wanted to see you unravel. you nearly died when he pressed his tongue deep inside you, abruptly tearing a sweet cry out of your mouth. the muscle wandered over your walls, savoring what he would feel soon enough. but for now, he was more than content to gather every bit of your arousal on the very tip of his tongue and make you feel sensations unimagined.

“god, you taste so good, baby,” sunghoon groaned, hands clamping tightly around your thighs. “so goddamn good.”

it was from that moment forward he lost control; his self-restraint broke; he was consumed with abandon. sunghoon licked and sucked at your bundle of nerves, drawing out more noises than before. your hips jerked as you laid sprawled out before him, entirely at his mercy. 

just the way you always wanted.

“does that feel good, baby?” sunghoon pulled away for the shortest second to ask. “do you want me to slow down?”

you shook your head, hands desperately fisting the sheets. “no, please. don’t slow down. down stop,” you begged. 

hearing you say that only made sunghoon harder, but he was still a man with some inhibitions if it meant drawing out the pleasure you felt at his hands. “just tell me if you need me to switch things up, okay?”

then he went back to work. this time he steadily worked two fingers into you, and you knew without a shred of doubt that you were positively ruined. they were long and thick, much more compared to yours; you would probably feel his cock for days to come.

you could feel yourself devolving into pure madness. sunghoon’s fingers were working you open at the same time his tongue flicked over your clit, and you could hardly keep still, your body convulsing every which way. if not for how tight his hands were around your trembling thighs, you wouldn’t have been able to keep them spread for him.

“daddy, please don’t stop. i think i’m gonna come,” you said between quick pants. 

“i know, baby girl. just relax for me.”

with every nerve in your body going haywire, you felt anything but relaxed. between your thudding heartbeat and the ecstasy shooting its way through your spine, your body was bursting at the seams with fervor. but you tried for him. you couldn’t think, at least. there was too much physical stimulation to allow for passing thoughts.

sunghoon only had only goal in mind and that was to make you feel nothing short of the absolute peak of pleasure. he could see what things your body was responding to best and he took advantage of every reaction you had to offer, twisting his tongue the way you so clearly loved.

you couldn’t handle it anymore, and something within you snapped; you cried out, back arching off your fluffy pink bed, jake and the stupid stuffed toys the furthest thing on your mind as warmth fluttered in your stomach.

“that’s it, doll,” sunghoon crooned. “you’re okay, baby. i promise. just let go.”

all the while, his fingers didn’t stop as he spoke. they kept moving as he assured you between gentle kisses to your thighs, almost as restless as your entire body was. “daddy,” you whimpered, thoroughly wrecked.

“i know,” sunghoon whispered, lips flush against your skin. “you did so good, doll. so good for me.”

sunghoon got up from his knees and draped himself over your body, leaning down to kiss you breathless. though you tried to ignore it, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you and just the feeling itself was mouthwatering.

“so perfect,” sunghoon murmured, pulling back to pepper kisses down your jaw. “did you really think daddy wasn’t gonna make sure his doll was taken care of?”

you had nothing to say, so you just watched him begin to peel off what was left of both of your clothes, piece by piece. when you completely naked, you noticed sunghoon’s unbudging eyes stuck to your figure. “do you think i’m pretty, daddy?” you asked with a smile. 

“pretty?” he murmured, brows stitched in amazement. “you’re… you’re beautiful, doll. don’t you forget it.”

you wanted to hear him say that a thousand times over.

even as sunghoon moved to reposition himself between your legs, you could hardly believe that this was actually - genuinely - happening. but every touch of his body had felt so real, and you’d dreamed of moments like this enough to know the difference. giving you one last chance to back out, sunghoon asked, “are you sure you want to do this, baby?”

“please,” you begged. the brushing of his tip against your slick folds made your mouth run dry. “i need it. i need you.”

that was all it took for sunghoon to push inside you, slow and steady as ever. you sucked in a breath, your hands already clenching the sheets again as he coaxed the head of his cock deeper inside your sticky cunt.

“oh my god,” you gasped out. 

sunghoon chuckled. “i’m barely inside you, baby.”

you knew that, but the feeling of him inside you even this far was enough to make your mind unravel. you’d imagined that it would be a tight fit, but despite him preparing you to take him, that seemed like an understatement. though you were nothing if not purely determined. you would take all of him, no matter how long it took.

sunghoon’s brows furrowed the deeper he sunk into you, his jaw slacked. “god, you’re so tight,” he murmured. to sunghoon, this was the moment that cemented everything into reality, the moment that made everything true. the tight, wet feel of you stretching around his cock as he moved deeper and deeper was too insane to be imagined even if he tried. and he had tried.

your chest and core fluttered at the compliment. you enjoyed the praise. knowing that you were satisfying him, that you were pleasuring him the way he was pleasuring you, was something that filled you with an immense sense of accomplishment. there was nothing you wanted more than to serve him, than to be his girl.

sunghoon took his time, still hardly moving. every time he heard you abruptly suck in a gasp, his hips ground to a stop, wanting to give you time to adjust. he knew better than anyone that he wasn’t lacking in the size category, and the last thing he wanted was to make his sweet girl’s first time uncomfortable. for the right reasons, he wanted to give you a time to remember.

“do you need a minute, doll?” he asked, one brow lifted as he glanced down at you.

you shook your head. “no, it’s okay. you can keep going.”

“you sure?” he pressed. it would be a lie if he said he wasn’t dying to move even deeper, but not at your expense.

not to mention that your mother probably wouldn’t return until after midnight, but that was another conversation.

“i’m sure, daddy,” you replied, reaching out to cradle his face in your hands. you didn’t want him to look away. “don’t stop.”

“fuck,” sunghoon groaned. you watched his lips part with the noise and felt his cock become buried further inside your cunt, working you open for him. he was taking his sweet time, because you both knew that if he was going to destroy you, he was going to make every second of it count.

“daddy, are you almost done?” you asked quietly. 

“halfway, babe,” sunghoon told you.

you gawked. “halfway?”

sunghoon shushed you with a kiss, pushing himself yet another inch within your heat. he couldn’t wrap his mind around how perfect you felt around his cock and he wasn’t even fully seated inside you yet. you tried to focus on the way his lips moved against yours, but not even that could distract you from how he was stretching you out beyond belief.

“daddy, you’re so big,” you whined. 

“i know, baby girl,” sunghoon replied softly, a hint of guilt on his face. “almost there, i promise. does it hurt?”

“a little bit,” you admitted. “but i can take it.”

sunghoon swept his finger over your bottom lip. “you sure, baby?”

you nodded your head. for him, you were convinced that you could do anything. and on top of that, there were no bounds to the things that you would do for him.

when sunghoon’s length had finally penetrated you to the very end, he stilled again, giving you a moment to recover before he started. it felt like an eternity before he actually moved, but when you gave him a nod of approval, he slowly drew back and penetrated you again. you were at a lost for words. nothing had ever been inside you that deeply. there were your fingers and maybe a hair brush, but neither rivaled the depth of your stepfather’s thick cock as he began to take you like you were his. 

because you were.

“jesus christ,” sunghoon hissed. “you feel so good, doll. do you know that?”

“you feel good too,” you stammered out.

sunghoon took that as a sign that he was doing everything right, which was more than enough for him to relax. his mind was reeling. the mere wet sound of your skin meeting was making him lose control, and that was to say nothing of your pretty moans. the way you desperately called out for him was almost too much to bear.

you reciprocated his feelings. with every deep, guttural grunt that escaped sunghoon’s mouth, your body was less and less yours. he owned you, head to toe, inside out. you were more than prepared to surrender everything to him, to let him claim all that you were. because you relied on him. you needed him. and little did you know, in some twisted way, he needed you even more.

sunghoon’s hands were balled at your sides, clenching the sheets fiercely. he dreaded hurting you, but imagine his surprise when you grabbed a hold of his hands and redirected them to your perfect hips. “you can hold me, daddy,” you reassured him. “please. i won’t break.”

and even if you did, you were willing to let him put you back together. sunghoon could feel whatever remained of his restraint crumbling into pieces, and he held your hips in his palms tightly, his eyes boring into yours. his gaze, as relentless as it was, wasn’t challenging; it was piercing, loving, understanding. he saw you, he knew you, because you were familiar. you were what kept him whole.

something made sunghoon hold you even tighter. there was a thought that struck him. you needed him to take care of you, to depend upon, to guide you. and he needed you to bring back a purpose which was unfairly stolen from him. he knew it was wrong, that it was sick, but it couldn’t be helped. you had become everything to him, and there was no way in hell he was going to let that go.

“i need you,” he panted, his hips keeping a comfortable pace that you seemed to enjoy, judging from how you continued to throb and moan. “i need you so much, doll. you don’t understand.”

you shook your head, arms wrapped around his neck. you wanted to be inseparably close. “i do understand, daddy,” you insisted. “i need you too.”

sunghoon felt heat surging through his stomach. he said your name. “i love you.”

your lips curled into a smile. your body shook with rapture, so much that you thought you could cry. “i love you too, daddy. i love you so much. i’d let you have me whenever. i’m yours and i wanna take care of you.”

“mine?” sunghoon repeated, so quietly it could have gone unheard if not for how close his face was to yours.

you nodded your head. 

sunghoon prodded, “all mine? and not that stupid little boy you call a boyfriend?”

the mere mention of jake made you feel disgust and you knew that you were over him, for good. “won’t see him anymore, daddy. i promise. i never wanted him. i always really just wanted you.”

sunghoon didn’t even bother willing himself to keep calm after he heard you say that. he was insane about you and he didn’t care to hide it anymore. “always?” he repeated.

you hummed. “the first time i came was on that bunny rabbit right there.” you turned your head to gesture towards the stuffed animal.

sunghoon saw it and his eyes darkened as he pictured you mounting the poor bunny, grinding your hips against it as you wished and hoped and prayed it’d soon enough be him bringing you pleasure. he wondered exactly how many times you had used it. how many times you had thought of him.

you cried out as his hips began slap against yours faster, but you took it. sunghoon wasn’t particularly rough, but each thrust drove you closer to insanity than the last. wrapping your legs around your waist, you drew him closer, your arms around his neck and his big hands firm at your hips. “fuck,” you stammered.

“you think about me a lot?” sunghoon asked. 

you nodded your head eagerly. “yes, all the time!”

sunghoon was unrelenting. he lowered his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, before he let it fall and pressed, “how much do you think about me?”

“every day,” you told him honestly. “there’s not one day… where i don’t.”

“every day?” sunghoon repeated. “you think about me fucking you every day?”

“sometimes i dream about it,” you confessed.

sunghoon groaned. he had dreamed of you too. he had constantly tried not to think about you in that light, but he couldn’t help what he dreamed of. “i dream about you too,” he whispered. “of making love to you and fucking you full of my cum. will you let me, doll?”

“yes,” you answered him without a second of hesitation. “please, daddy. come inside me!”

sunghoon almost came just from hearing those words, but he couldn’t yet. not before he felt you tighten around his cock with climax. removing his hand from his hip, he began to toy with your sensitive clit, eager and desperate to make you come, to see you come, to feel you come.

your body arched into his hand, knowing who its owner was and willing to submit to his every whim. it felt like your mind was floating somewhere between earth and heaven, lost in space where there was no life, no time. only infinity.

it wasn’t long before your vision brightened white and you swore you could see every star. your legs tightened their grip around his waist as you shuddered with ecstasy, and your mouth hung open as you moaned.

“that’s it,” sunghoon crooned. “good girl. you’re amazing, doll.”

you stilled after a moment, sated. 

the sensation of your cunt gushing tightly around him as you orgasmed made sunghoon moan himself, and you listened to the sounds of your heat kneading his cock as he used your cunt to push himself to the end. it had felt so good to you too; having something to grip on as you came made the experience all that much better.

“come for me, daddy,” you said, trying to coax the orgasm out of him. “come inside your doll… i need it.”

that did it. hearing you referring to yourself as his doll sent him completely over the edge and you gasped out loud when you felt sunghoon dumping his thick, sticky hot load into your cunt with the deepest grunt of your name. it was so good, so warm. you held eye contact with him the entire time, not once daring to look away even as his hips slowed to a stop.

for a long moment, you both simply lay there in each other’s arms, neither of you wanting to move when you were this close. but you did pull him in for another heated kiss, because you couldn’t think of another way to somehow bring yourself even closer. sunghoon kissed you back passionately, holding your body against his protectively, almost as if he was afraid you’d be taken from him too.

you thought nothing could ruin the moment. then, out of the blue, your phone rang. you and sunghoon both let out a collective sigh of exasperation and you withdrew to peak at your phone on your nightstand, wholeheartedly expecting it to be your mother.

your eyes went wide when you saw that it was jake.

and you wouldn’t have answered it, but you needed to call it quits anyway. though you initially planned to meet him in person, in that moment, you decided he didn’t deserve to see you again in his life. “hello?” you answered.

“baby, you picked up,” jake said, sounding amazed. “listen to me, baby. i’m so sorry i haven’t been answering your calls. i just needed some space, you understand that, right?”

before he could utter another word, the phone was abruptly snatched from your hands. “don’t call my daughter again, or i swear to god, i will find you, and then i will fuck you up,” sunghoon hissed. 

he hung up without another word and tossed the phone to the side.

you gawked at his words, but you both felt the way you’d throbbed. “daddy!”

throughout the course of the past six years, yang jungwon has learned to battle the ferocious beast that shreds his insides, aching to escape, whenever he’s not soothed by your presence. he knows it’s strange – the violent feeling that stews inside of him when he’s overstayed his welcome to the point of it no longer being normal, and he has to part ways with you. parting ways with you; sure, easy enough. at least such an action would be easy if his life garnered any other purpose, aside from saturating all of his senses in anything related to you. unfortunately, and as mockingly apparent as it was, jungwon’s life garnered no other purpose. therefore, it was never easy. 

when it came to you, jungwon was so hyperaware. a hyperawareness which stemmed into every physical reaction of yours, every mannerism, and every emotion it alluded to. he knew everything about you, all of everything, things that you probably couldn’t ever learn about yourself. all your sides, all the things which bring you happiness, anger, sadness. all your secrets, all the things you’ll never share with anyone else because of the fear of their reaction. you never had to fear jungwon’s reaction, though. jungwon was never repulsed by you, and nothing about you ever made him want to distance himself from you. gosh, that’s such a silly thought to him. he only ever wanted more. that’s all he could ever feel for you, was a constant loop, and ache for more. an ache which far surpasses the regards anyone holds towards their best friend, but for the time being, he’s happy to have at least earned that title from you.

“peas, yuck.” 

the sound of your voice captures his attention, and he would say it made him divert his gaze to you – but who is he kidding, he was already looking at you. was there somewhere else he could be looking, anyway? however, this information was new to him. you don’t like peas? jot that down, he thinks.

he’s at your place, ever the usual, sitting at your counter and observing the sight of you in your kitchen, scrolling through the board of recipes you’ve gathered on pinterest. that’s all he ever wants to willingly partake in; watching you and whichever activity you’ve decided has seized your interest that day. 

oh, if watching you wasn’t rewarding. delicious. you’re bent over the counter, phone in hand, but he’s far from concerned with your phone; not when you’re putting all his favorite goodies on display. if they could understand him, he would easily say ‘thank you’ to the soft shorts you donned, simply for disclosing the smooth flesh of your thighs and framing the plush swell of your ass so perfectly. your body, fuck, if that’s not something he really loved about you. over the years, he’s created a detailed map, captured detailed memories of every inch of skin your clothing has allowed him to see even a brief peak of. all the beautiful traits surrounding you, the kindness and grace of your soul, and nothing short of a smokeshow of a body to pair with it. holy fuck, you’re an angel if they’ve ever existed. 

he clears his throat, the dryness of it evident in the rasp it creates. his thoughts were beginning to carry him away, much like they always do when he’s around you. it irritates him to no end, merely for the possibility of missing out on any form of any sound your breath might escape you in.

“what are you looking at, babydoll?” he asks, his voice soft, still with a hint of the rasp he earned from his shameless distraction. the pet name always slips out when he talks to you. the first time it happened, you were a bit taken aback, but it’s not like you ever said anything in protest. you’ve grown pleasantly accustomed to it now, though, and you’re not sure of the last time he’s ever called you by your real name. that delights him to no end, since it makes him feel more  like he owns you. which he does, you just don’t know it yet. 

“just some pasta recipes. but after seeing all these peas, i think i’d rather bake something instead,” you tell him, straightening your position from the counter – a tragic loss for the perverted little goblin inside of jungwon – and moving to gather all the tools necessary for your mentioned activity.

his eyes follow you, almost as though they were tracking devices programmed with auto-targeting precision to lock aim upon you. shameless, greedy in his gaze, more-than-admiring the ratio from your shoulders, to your waist, then your hips. to him, the importance and significance just bloomed from every perceivably minor feature that aided in creating you. the subtly visible blemishes on your shoulders, the way each tendril of your hair spilled over your neck, the way your flesh rippled and jiggled from your thighs up to your ass as you walked. as might be expected, no different from all the other times hes ever spent in your presence, the blood began rushing to visit him in his cock. he’s having such a hard time, in such a vast array of ways. fortunately for jungwon, you always seemed to be distracted in some way– something he learned to love about you. because, well, it’s you, and because he’s yet to be caught solid and poking through his pants in front of you. 

“you really like baking, huh?” he inquires, the soft tone of his voice bleeding into the soft smile settling on his face. his voice was always ironically casual in a way that never betrayed his thoughts which were anything but. after all, six years is plenty of time to reign control over those things.

you flash him a soft, natural smile which he doesn’t miss. however, he also doesn’t miss the way your tits bounce slightly after your heels touch the ground, having elevated yourself on your toes to reach for a bowl. under absolutely no circumstances would jungwon miss that. as if it aided the situation for him at all, more blood rushes to visit his awakening cock.

“yea, i do. i love the decorating part too.” 

“i know you do.” of course he fucking knows. 

with the same autonomous instincts as always, his eyes attach themselves to the way a radiant smile decorates your face as you read the notification lighting up your phone screen. what’s this, he thinks. what was making you so damn happy, and why wasn’t that smile directed towards him? something as beautiful as a smile you create should only ever be directed towards him. 

“oh, yea!” you start, striding to stand directly across from the counter where he sat, phone still in your clutch. it’s apparent to him from the blazing excitement in your tone, for something he wasn’t responsible for, he wasn’t going to like this one bit. 

“i didn’t tell you about the date i’m going on tomorrow.”

for a moment, the world seems to halt in it’s rotation – jungwon’s world, at least, which so shamelessly, obviously revolved around you. any syllable following the word ‘date’ seemed to drift into a languid murmur as that single, treacherous word blared echoes throughout his vacant mind. the possessiveness spreads over his rational thoughts like an infection. the air surrounding him sinks into his chest like cinderblocks. the pressure constricts his throat, as if the words you spoke placed a hand there. no, not this, he thinks. anything but this.

managing enough self-control to present himself normally – normal for him, at least – he schools his expression. his front teeth sink into his tongue, his cheekbones even more prominent for a moment before he mutters, “what date?” 

you knew jungwon felt an intense protectiveness towards you, it was nothing new. one that translated into the way he demanded every trivial detail of any endeavor you participated in which didn’t involve his company, not just dates. going to the doctor? he wants to research him. seeing your family? he wants you to text him. planning a girls day? he wants to know how long you’ve known them.

a date, however, was an entirely different arena. 

your expression softens into fond resignation, your mind preparing to quell the queries you know are pending behind the protective gleam in jungwon’s eyes.

“he’s a guy i met recently. he’s a friend of a friend, he asked me for my phone number when she introduced us.” 

that wasn’t enough to subdue your best friend. 

“describe him.” 

oh, here he goes. the manner in which his words travel to you, the command they carry with them, makes you falter subtly – a certain sensation fills your chest, a sudden sense of apprehension, hardly apparent, but apparent nonetheless, melds with the fondness expanding within you. what was jungwon planning on doing with that kind of information? 

you comply, however, listing off the attributes of the man – the man whom you only planned to get a harmless cup of coffee with – like you were filing a police report. 

“does that make you feel better?” you ask your best friend, a sense of amusement with his antics betraying itself in the laugh laced with your question, and the tone in your voice that almost tells him ‘you’re being ridiculous.’ 

jungwon knew he was being ridiculous, but it’s not like that would ever stop him. he’s never been reluctant to question you in his superabundant way, nor will he ever. even if you think his reactions are undue, he just wants to be absolutely certain you’re safe, protected with every waking moment. the only issue is, he’s only ever convinced of your safety when you’re with him. 

a laugh escapes him in a breath through his nose. no, actually. his tension isn’t eased at all. he can’t tell you that, though. he can’t tell you that he wants to camouflage himself in a bush near the window of the coffee shop you’ll be taken to. that’ll just make you run away, he thinks. 

“a little better. just– share your location with me. even if you think you don’t need to,” he reminds, gluing his gaze to yours to be sure his conviction sticks with you.

“okay, okay. i will, jungwon. you don’t need to go all ‘hitman’ on me. now come help me choose what i’m going to wear.” 

before he could muster a facade of neutrality for that, though, jungwon needed to gather his composure. he slips away from you, muttering a ‘be right back,’ and rests his back against the shut door behind him as he arrives to your bathroom. it was almost a temporary oasis, since it allows him to reel his thoughts in without your presence – a presence he loves, but only serves to further complicate his turmoil, currently. he shuts his eyes, smushing his eyelids together as he draws in a long breath, allowing it to escape him once he’s confident the tension will escape, too. once he opens his eyes, reabsorbing his surroundings, grounding himself, his eyes drift to the pile of clothing you left in the bathroom – forgotten after you shower, he’s sure. with his curiosity consuming him, and his morality leaving him, he rummages through the pile until he’s met with the lacy cloth he aimed to find – your panties. he brings the thin fabric to his nose, allowing your scent to fill his nostrils with a hearty sniff. before he allows himself to drift too far into arousal, he simply pockets your lace thong – you won’t notice just one pair missing, right? without a single drop of regret swimming in his body, he exits the bathroom, and approaches your awaiting figure in the kitchen. 

none the wiser, how cute.

in tandem, the two of you file into your bedroom. jungwon isn’t exactly wild about the idea of helping you to choose the outfit you’ll be wearing for a man who isn’t him. perhaps, he can convince you to wear something of his – drowning your figure and proving his claim on you, all at once. but who is he kidding.

“okay. i was thinking,” you start, heading into your closet as you speak to him, laying the three outfits you’ve indecisively cycled through onto your bed. “maybe the dress would be the best option.” 

dress? oh, absolutely not, he thinks. even if he was left with only one ounce of energy in his body, he would use it to snatch the dress away from you, and prevent you from ever presenting yourself to that man in it. his mind led him down a path of various scenarios – one being the fact that this man would likely receive the pleasure of seeing your snail trail once you stood up from your seat, if he encouraged your decision to wear it. fucking bastard, he thinks, at the mere image, mere possibility of this unfolding. he wouldn’t even consider the man lucky, only ungrateful, in all honesty, because he probably wouldn’t even lean down and sniff it.

he must sway your convictions elsewhere. 

“no,” he responds plainly, scanning over the other options you all-too-eagerly laid out on your bed. “this one’s better,” he fibs, extending his arm to gesture toward the flattering top and pants laying humbly among the other two options. “i think it’ll really suit you. plus you love those pants, right?” in actuality, he knew the dress would snatch away anyone’s breath who saw you in it, but the selfish part of him only wanted you to look appealing to such an extent for him. 

much to jungwon’s dismay, the dress called, and called you, drawing your attention as though it grew arms and began to wave them in the air. “ugh, but… a dress would be better for a date, right?” you lift the dress from the bed by it’s hanger, holding it against your body. he knew this would happen, he knew you wouldn’t actually take his advice, but the thought of your date seeing the legs he staked an imaginary claim on was simply unbearable. “i want to really look nice. besides, it’s been a little while since i wore those pants, i’m not even sure if i would look good in them anym–”

speaking of unbearable. the thought of you finishing that sentence was every facet of that word.

“don’t,” he intrudes, his voice carrying a bit more force than he intended. he coaxed the dress from your grasp, uncurling your already loosening fingers from the hanger with ease, and placed the pants there instead. “don’t even say that. you’re all kinds of perfect. so i’m serious, don’t say that again.” 

you, not looking good in something? he could almost laugh at the thought, if it didn’t irritate him so much. it was so ridiculous and outlandish, he wanted to kick the thought from your brain, and into the trashcan. 

you fondle with the pants jungwon placed in your grasp, averting your eyes for just a moment as you attempt to regather the composure he stole from you. it was no secret to you that he found you pretty, since he reminded you nearly as frequently as daily. those words, however, being spoken to you with such honesty and conviction, was a brand new territory – inviting butterflies into your stomach that you had no idea how to care for. 

you clear your throat, though there was nothing obstructing it. then, you tuck your hair behind you ear, though it was already there. distractions, little fruitless movements you always completed on autopilot to cope with the fluttering feelings erupting in your system. jungwon began to discover the reason for these actions over the course of your friendship, studying each motion and the reason behind it’s dawn. jungwon could describe how you were feeling, even if you never said a word. that’s how he’s grown to be, with you. all the same, an almost pleasant feeling visited him at your current disoriented state.

“well… thank you, won,” you tell him, which he found endlessly endearing. you couldn’t ever let a compliment reach your ears without an expression of gratitude leaving your lips. “but it’s just… i was already kinda set on the dress,” you admit, a playfully sheepish smile spreading it’s way across your face as your gaze ascends to his. “it feels right.”

jungwon chuckles, almost bitter, but it still dances with the same level of friskiness you send to him. “why did you even ask for my advice if you already knew what you wanted to wear,” he grills, a very rational question highlighting the very irrational course of action you just subjected him to. his question only earns a giggle from you, one he pockets in his brain like gold as you toss the pants back to him.

“oops,” you shrug exaggeratedly, an equally exaggerated expression meeting your features. “i guess it just helped me to confirm things. that, and it was fun.” 

his endearment possesses him to shake his head at your answer, though he was never truly perturbed by the time he found himself spending with you. “yeah, wear your dress, then, but i hope you remember the false sense of influence you just gave me,” he jokes, but he also began to prepare for the impending loss of sanity he’d experience as the time for your date rolled around. 

farewell to any chance of you wearing those pants, he thinks. 

in coalition with the day of your date, jungwon planned to meet with the group of friends he’d developed beyond the separate realm of delirium he created for you. regardless of his constant stubborn refusal to be anywhere that you weren’t, he still found the time to see them. in fact, sunghoon was the entire reason why he even found the opportunity to spend each of his waking moments thinking about you – see, sunghoon met you first, and gradually developed a bond with you once you began tutoring his sister. one specific day, sunghoon invited his buddies over to his house during a tutoring session of yours, one of which happened to be your soon-to-be secret – albeit unhealthy – admirer. when jungwon laid his eyes upon you, his mind was overcome with cliches which he never imagined he’d experience; the dreamily windblown hair, and a sequence of slow motion which only seemed to be visible for him. needless to say, once you caught his eyes, the friendship between the two of you bloomed and flourished rapidly – after jungwon received a bit of nudging from sunghoon and the others, of course. in the same sense, jungwon beared endless gratitude toward sunghoon for introducing the two of you, although sunghoon would never allow that fact to slip his mind, for that matter.

“dude, she’s on a date? i bet you’re fucking pissed,” heeseung teases, taking another sip from his beer, the pink tint on his cheeks making it clear that this wasn’t his first.

of course he was fucking pissed, he thinks. even if he’d lived through this before, endured the duration of your dates on other occasions, it never seemed to pass any easier for him. 

jungwon’s shoulders tensed slightly, and despite his relaxed posture against his chair, his hand clenched into a fist upon the table where it rested. his knuckles worked, fingers dancing faintly as he attempted to calm himself. “yea, i’m pissed. but it’s not like she hasn’t been on other dates before. it might not even end up meaning anything,” he responds, his words only as hopeful as they could possibly be, amid the tumultuous images of you, being charmed and swayed as he sat dormant in this restaurant – the restaurant he often found himself retreating to on occasions similar to the current one.

a chuckle resounded through the cozy tenor of the restaurant, then came jay’s turn to pile on the punishment, as he piped up from his seat beside jungwon. 

“you keep hoping it doesn’t. but what are you gonna do if it works out this time?” he plops his hand onto the base of jungwon’s neck in a mockingly comforting gesture, giving him a shake that says ‘snap out of it.’ 

a sigh drifts from jungwon’s lips as his knuckles continue to dance. gosh, he doesn’t even want to think about that. it was hardly imaginable, the possibility of your usual doomed relationships and flings blooming into something which will truly keep you intangible. 

“i-i don’t know. i just… i don’t feel like i can tell her how i feel. i don’t wanna… scare her away,” his eyes remain planted onto the half empty glass of beer in front of him. 

this time, sunghoon chimes in, his lips curling amusedly, though not enough to reveal his sharp canines – he did hold sympathy for his friend, after all. “jungwon, come on. it’s been years. if you were gonna scare her away, i think you would’ve already done it,” he pokes, allowing jungwon to remember that his behavior still isn’t quite normal enough to maintain a best friend level, even with his attempts to hide himself. 

another sigh leaves jungwon, as though that’s all he can will himself to do. “you don’t get it, man–” 

jay interjects, letting out a laugh akin to a scoff, as though he already knows the words that are going to tumble from jungwon’s mouth – in all honesty, he does, and he’s growing weary of the tiptoe routine his friend is performing. “nah, we ‘get it’ just fine. she didn’t pick up on all your telepathic signals, now you look like an idiot all because you won’t shoot your shot,” he leans closer to jungwon for a moment to stress his point further. sunghoon and heeseung laugh, only providing more of a grating sensation on jungwon’s nerves.

heeseung nudges jungwon’s foot under the table, his smile still broad from his laughter. “i can’t blame you for wanting to be careful, though. if you weren’t so obsessed with her, i’d be all over that, i mean, goddamn…”

jungwon’s brows knit, and his teeth just might crack with how tightly he’s clenching his jaw. “what?”  

sunghoon nods, a smirk finding his features as he admits to his concurrence with heeseung’s crude revelation. “yea, that body, man… jungwon, if you let her stay single for too long i might just have to make a move on her myself,” his canines glinted on full display as his words pumped a nearly irrepressible fury through jungwon’s blood.

they’re just messing around, they’re just messing around, they’re just messing around. he urges his mind to repeat the words, hoping that the attempts of self-regulation alone will prove sufficient against the wrath bubbling within him. a familiar possessiveness travels through his veins as though he’d been bitten.

as jungwon shuts his eyes, jaw taut and knuckles equally so, heeseung permits another jeer to spill from his throat. “i swear, man, if you don’t hurry up, maybe i’ll just fuck her. i’ll have her bent over something quicker than–”

it took every grain of his willpower to repress the possessiveness, the ferocity, but those words snatch all control away from him. his eyes fly open, and his chair falls helplessly behind him as he leaps up, grasping heeseung’s collar across the length of the table, hauling the taller man from his chair.

“watch what the fuck you say about her, heeseung,” he seethes, his eyes manic, his words struggling to project past the anger in his throat – akin to the way heeseung struggled to breathe as his shirt collar dug into his neck. in every form, jungwon was livid, features betraying every trace of it, his veins pulsing through his forearms as he tightened his clutch on heeseung’s collar. when it came to you, his instinct to protect sharply surpassed any regard he held for anyone.

without a moment to spare, observing jungwon’s ravening emotional state, jay and sunghoon rise to their feet, prepared to aid the situation – the efficiency coming to them so quickly granted they’ve lived this reality before. jay begins to pry jungwon from heeseung, providing him with placating words as though he were a brutish predator. “jungwon! jungwon, calm down, man,” jay eases, his concern steadily dissipating as he notices the tension leaving jungwon’s shoulders, unwinding from his fingers, and lifting from his knitted brows. in spite of it all, jungwon’s eyes still simmer with his rage, stubbornly refusing to tear away from heeseung’s form. “i’m not kidding,” he states further, wanting to be certain that heeseung understands his seriousness, his conviction in his claim that you were strictly off limits.

heeseung adjusts his shirt, giving jungwon a light, yet chiding push which earns a glare from both sunghoon and jay, who only wish to see the end of this situation. “chill, jungwon. i was just kidding,” a subtle chuckle erupts from his chest as the rigidity begins to melt from their discussion. “i mean, why are you only getting mad at me like sunghoon wasn’t talking shit, too,” he points to sunghoon with his thumb, a nudge from the mentioned finding it’s way into his shoulder soon after. “you’re just gonna throw me under the bus?” sunghoon bites back, his expression exaggeratedly incredulous, though there was not a trace of any true bite within his words. 

jungwon looks away, a sheepish smile discovering his features as his friends’ bickering persists, unveiling a gentle trace of his dimple. he felt a little silly now – he knew he exploded, allowed himself to get riled up like a child. it was about you, though, and in that moment he just couldn’t navigate the ability to gather his impulses. jay’s hand slinks from his shoulder, a breath leaving him in relief. “fuck, man,” he murmurs. “don’t do this in public again.”

the afternoon following your date, jungwon found himself on your sofa, listening intently as you blathered about how disappointing it was – it took a certain level of resolve to prevent himself from whooping in glee, reveling in the relief that he could still cling to his false sense of ownership over you. nonetheless, he listened with concern.

“it’s just…  he was very… strange,” you admit with reluctance, placing the folded shorts you held on the sofa beside you, and reaching into the laundry basket to grab another item of clothing. 

jungwon’s eyes trace each of your movements, his mind blooming with images of you, sitting across from a man whom he had scarce knowledge of – merely his appearance and the fact that he’s strange.

“strange how?” he takes a moment to blink as his mind threatens to fantasize about your figure in the skirt you were currently folding. 

“just… he had a strange way of ‘getting to know me.’ i don’t think he was actually concerned with that at all,” the dismissive lilt in your voice signals your dismay as the skirt in your grasp plops amongst the pile beside you. 

jungwon absorbs your expression — he knows every overtone of that expression, as he does the rest of them. “what kinds of things did he say?” 

your shoulders deflate, a hefty sigh fleeing from your chest soon afterward. the reluctance in your eyes renews the curious vigilance already dancing behind jungwon’s, and the next words leaving your tongue would prove difficult for him to absorb, he was certain. 

“well… he—” you pause in search of the courage to tell jungwon, the most tactful way to form the sentence, wary of the manner your words would reach him. “he kept asking if he could take photos of me.”

the sheer crudity of the words that man spoke to you led him to inhale crisply, though the sight of the faint bruise wrapping around your wrist catches the air in his throat. how had he missed that before?

jungwon leans forward from his lounging position on the couch, his elbows adjusting to rest on his knees. the familiar protective glare glinted once again, his hands wringing so furiously that the sound of his skin rubbing together could be heard in the burdened silence of the room. he didn’t meet your eyes – his eyes only bore focus onto the discoloration marring your beautiful skin, attributable to only one specific person, he was certain. the tightness of the atmosphere hugged your body, and the stable pause from jungwon stretched into nearly an entire minute, offering you no consolation.

“tell me what he did.”

“jungwon–”

“tell me what he did,” his eyes finally capture yours, the demand blazing behind them piercing you enough to pin you to the cushions of the sofa. he extends his hand to lay hold of your wrist, the subtlety, the tenderness of his fingers against your skin contradicting the rigidity of his words. he would never hurt you, beyond any trace of about, no matter the intensity of his anger.

“he… he did this when i was getting out of the car, after he dropped me off. he grabbed me because i told him i wasn’t interested in seeing him again. then he… he looked like he realized what he was doing, and he stopped. tried to make it seem like it was just a joke,” the tears tickle your eyelids before you can even will them away, and the genuine terror you felt from last night began to swell in the center of your chest. 

the terror was accompanied ruthlessly by guilt – guilt stemming from the way you planned to withhold this experience from jungwon, in an attempt to prevent any pain he would be subjected to by extension. you knew how it would hurt him, you’ve seen it on boundless occasions in the past. even a small bump into the wall would have jungwon ready to send a sledgehammer straight through it. the gravity of the treatment you received from the man you saw last night could only brew an unfathomable feeling of him, one you never wished to seem him suffer from. it couldn’t be comfortable for him, battling a rage which could only subside partially from acting upon the mercilessly brutal images in his mind.

“why weren’t you going to tell me?” the agony sailing within his voice pushes the tears down your face – you hadn’t anticipated the fact that his misery would only increase tenfold upon the discovery that you were going to try and hide your pain from him. gosh, he could read you so well. the soft chuckles you make when you divert your attention to the joke you hear from the tv, the giggles that erupt when you’re promptly reminded of something you found funny months ago, and the way your lip quivers, the way you seem to try to still it with a clamp of your teeth, when you’re hesitant to tell him something. harboring an emotion he can only detect as shame, though he can’t imagine why you would ever ferment such a feeling when you’re with him, swaddled by the safety of him – reassuring, endlessly understanding him. the man you never felt judged by, in the slightest.

“i… i didn’t want you to be hurt or stressed by it, won. i knew you would be angry… i just… i didn’t want it tormenting you. i’m sorry, i–”

jungwon gently silences you, soothes you with a hand through your hair, guiding you to lay your head easily in his lap. 

“hey… babydoll,” an exhale leaves him with such heavy tenor, the firmness buried within his eyes only softening as he engrosses himself in the sight of your tears. he caresses your head, his nails providing a tender scratch that always dispels any burdens you carry, urging you to just let it all out, without saying the words. “you know i’m not mad at you, right? it’s okay… just… please… don’t feel like you have to hide anything like this from me. i want to protect you, from anything. i want to know, so i can,” his voice holds a devastatingly unimposing, quiet conviction that slows the rapidness of your pulse, reminding you that he welcomes you, completely transparent. 

“i will, won… i… i’m sorry,” the final streams of your tears sink into the fabric of his pants, darkening tiny spots within it. 

his hand slips from your hair, only for a moment to embark on yet another journey of comfort, coasting his thumb along the slipperiness of your cheek, easing the gush of your tears. “you don’t need to keep saying that, alright? you don’t even need to feel that. you just didn’t want to hurt me, and that’s so precious. just… that’s just not something you need to even think about. the only thing that could hurt me, is not being able to protect you.” 

jungwon truly did love the way you seemed to want to protect him, too, from all the situations you knew would awaken the fury within him – just as he loved all of your traits. in the same sense, he grieved at the thought of you hiding a part of yourself from him, something which caused you pain, for the sole sake of sparing him. his existence revolved around shielding you from all pain, and all the forms it may attempt to reach you in. he longs to protect your light, your happiness, though he doesn’t feel as though he’s done a very fine job in fulfilling that purpose – not after that man hurt you, and he wasn’t there. 

your head burrows further into the comfort of his thigh, your hand resting limply among the same space. “i… thank you won. i love you. from now on, i’ll be better. i promise.” 

and there it is, for the hundredth time. the sincere, though perceivably platonic manner in which those words tumble from your mouth. the absence of any deeper, romantic undercurrents almost carved a pit into his chest, everytime. though in all honesty, he could never will himself to complain about any trace of affection he received from you, no matter how friendly it may come. your proximity only sent him into a further spiral – when you’re this close to him, it proves marginally more difficult to stop himself from just smothering you with his love, revealing to you every extensive, intricate layer, every steadily developed line of the oh-so-painfully complex emotions he carries for you, throughout every waking and dreaming moment of his life. his life that would feel so futile, if not to be spent orbiting you, and he’s not even sure that the word ‘emotion’ will suffice to describe what ignited in his body as he came to know you.

“i… i love you too,” i love you more than the word love will allow, he wishes he could say. “and… and don’t say that. you don’t need to change at all. you don’t need to be anything more than the beautiful person that you already are. do you understand?”

you shift your eyes to lock with his, a feathery smile discovering your lips. you couldn’t ignore the new tears that nearly blurred the sight of jungwon in front of you, his words washing over you, stunning you like a tide. so consistently, jungwon makes you feel so needed, like such a necessary presence in his life. you’ve never experienced that before, with anyone else.  “yea, won. i understand.” 

his gaze does not avert, his eyes remaining present with yours as though a string of glue kept them connected, prohibiting them from straying. 

“what? you look like you wanna say something,” your words puncture the brief silence, tossing a bucket of realization and restraint onto jungwon.

he does want to say something, so many things for that matter. he almost hates just how perceptive you are, the only thing stopping him being the fact that he cannot hate anything about you. alas, he cannot seem to hide things from you; you’ve known him for equally as long as he’s known you, and you’ve grown to learn his mind, his mannerisms, his habits. well, in better terms, he can’t hide the fact that he’s hiding something, because he can damn sure hide things from you – he’s been doing it for years. 

“nothing, just… i hate seeing you cry. are you alright?” his words were fully, wholly true, though there was a plethora of confessions hidden beneath him which he could not allow himself to reveal to you. 

“mhm, i’m fine. i am now, because you’re here,” you allow a deep breath to run through you, your chest swelling with the cozy affection you held towards him. your instincts warn you that he’s shrouding something else, though you decide not to pry. not now, at least. nonetheless, your words brighten jungwon’s eyes, a warm light filling them as he allows them to dive into each crevice of his brain, emitting dopamine through each of their travels.

his hand finds solace in your hair again, ruffling the tendrils in a subtle shake, ‘so sweet,’ leaving his lips to fill the air in an almost inaudible timbre. 

“oh yea, i couldn’t find one of my thongs while i was folding my laundry. i wonder if the dryer ate it,” you allow the information to settle casually, sobering from the solemn spell cast upon the both of you. 

“hm? yea, dryer probably ate it,” he feigned innocence, pretending as though he were none the wiser, when he knows all too well they’re laying blissfully among the surface of his nightstand.

his gaze persists upon your form, his smile, his eyes unveiling the feelings you stir within him. every detail of you is so charming to him, everything surrounding you and the world he seemed to step into whenever in your presence. he’s seen it all, watched it all, fell indescribably enamored with it all.

‘let me take you shopping, get your mind off things.’ jungwon allowed those words to visit you the morning after he offered you bundles of comfort, during the phone call you typically receive from him every morning – he tends to call you, if not already in your presence, with the intentions of ‘checking up on you,’ and ‘wondering what you’re up to.’ in all fairness, both of those desires are true, though he also just loves to hear your voice. by this point in your relationship with jungwon, you’ve grown accustomed to having him by your side at all times, it would be strange if he wasn’t there. 

“i wanna try and find some new skirts today,” the sound of your voice seems to mirror the grace of the wispy clouds in the sky today, at least to jungwon. the two of you travel the sidewalk of the tranquil shopping strip, the presence of others scarce at the time of day you both chose – jungwon knew you would prefer the nature of these conditions, and he would too, because it meant more of his focus was reserved by you.

the sun blared warm, bright, in such nourishing rays today. all thanks to you for being alive and giving it light, he thinks. 

the smile so graciously splitting your face seemed to be fed by the bright day, and by the various trinkets and collectibles glinting in your eyes. clearly, you enjoy shopping, though he cannot pretend as though that’s something he hasn’t already gathered awareness of – his entire mind is dedicated to storing your interests, after all.   

he trailed beside you as you entered the next store you were drawn to, itching to browse. his presence loomed over you as though he were a protective shadow, the reminder of his protection placed in the subtle hand on your lower back. as silly as it may seem, he was never unprepared to send glares in the direction of any man who dare even glance at you with a flicker of interest or curiosity. you were his, after all.  

he watched you, admired you, basking in the way you always seemed to be illuminated – you were shining, even underneath the draining fluorescents of the store. it was almost as though a spotlight followed you everywhere, but the way you shined under his gaze did more than any hollow light ever could even dream. 

“this one’s pretty,” your words snatch his attention, and his eyes avert to the dress held in your grasp, dangling from the clear hanger. “don’t you think so?”  

though his eyes only skate over the fabric for a brief moment before returning to your beautiful face, he still answers, “yea, it’s pretty.” 

with a small shake of his head, hoping to shake up the thoughts residing there as well, he allows a small laugh to leave him in a breath. “i thought you were looking for skirts?” he bathes in your presence fondly. 

“i am, but that was before i saw this,” the dress persists in your hold, a signal to jungwon that you wanted to buy it – though jungwon certainly would not let you pay for it, just as he prohibited you from spending money on any of the items resting in the safety of the bags he held for you. 

“i’ll pay for this one, though, won–” 

before you can even complete your tedious sentence, jungwon intercepts with “i already told you, don’t worry about it,” his expression mimicking the candor of his words. the grimace you send him is not accompanied by any true annoyance, just an affectionate taunt.

“alright, have it your way. i’m gonna go try this on,” you further your playful derision as your tongue pokes out in his direction, the dress donning your figure swaying in a manner similar to the one in your grasp as you walk away. 

his eyes remain bound to your figure as you descend further into the direction of the fitting room, not faltering until hem of your dress disappears behind the door.

awaiting your return, jungwon settles upon busying himself by sifting through a rack of clothing in search of pieces he yearns to see you draped in. then, upon your anticipated return, the compliment begging to erupt becomes lodged in jungwon’s throat – he notices him, a man flawlessly befitting the description you provided him with before your date occurred, approaching you with purposed steps that shriek in confirmation of his suspicions.

it’s almost as though an inexplicable, phantom force seeps into his bones, his flesh, assuming control and steering every action from this moment forward – a force created by him, birthed by his possessiveness, rearing it’s head and jumping into his skin. kill him, kill him, kill him, choruses through his mind, but he’s certain he’s going to make him suffer a fate much more harrowing than death. the memory of the bruise on your delicate wrist revisits his mind, touring every wrinkle and rewriting each one as a vessel for vengeance. he knows, he’s going to kill him. 

your focus never left jungwon as you stepped out of the fitting room, gleefully oblivious – you hadn’t yet garnered notice of the familiar man approaching you, though the sight of jungwon’s eyes veering pointedly away from you roused an air of foreboding within your stomach. the moment you follow his quickening movements, however, a sudden understanding rings an alarm within you. 

jungwon breaches the distance separating him and the man before you can penetrate your frozen stupor. his hands fasten around the collar of the man’s shirt, ramming him into the adjacent wall with such a horrific thud that the decorative pieces tremble and slip to the floor. 

“you touched her,” the focus he carries in effort of bringing suffering to this man seeps into his features, his eyebrows dragging towards one another, a crinkle sprouting in his expression. the air surrounding jungwon almost blackens with the intensity of his all-encompassing resentment, his wrath, cloaked by a dire promise of punishment. 

you’ve never heard such a voice from jungwon, not throughout the entire duration of your time together. sure, he’s been protective, and sure, he’s gotten angry with you when you put yourself in dangerous situations. this, however, was so unfamiliar. panic clutching your heart, you hurry forward, placing a quivering hand on jungwon’s shoulder. 

“jungwon! it’s okay! jungwon!”

your words don’t reach him, akin to the lack of reaction he gives to the sensation of your hand against him. although, even if he found the ability to steer focus toward anything aside from the man in front of him, he certainly wouldn’t agree with your words – in his mind, it was far from ‘okay.’  the vision of this man bringing fear and dread to your heart, the sight of the bruise he left to wrap around your precious skin was in stark contrast with ‘okay.’  the man hurt you, therefore he needed to suffer, and that was the only sensible conclusion jungwon could reach. 

“you thought you could just get away with it, didn’t you? she’s mine. you don’t get to even look at her, and you damn sure don’t get to hurt her,” the steadiness, the ease of his words only further enhance the illusive dark air around him. jungwon demands eye contact with the man as though a spell forcing submission was laced within his pupils. 

as the hunger to inflict pain on this man persistently pulses through the taut veins of his forearms, jungwon yanks him forward, slamming him back against the wall once more with enough force to cause his head to bounce sickeningly against it. 

“don’t come near her again, or so help me god, i will kill you.”

the unease, the distress filling you at the sight of jungwon in such a manic state only peaks in severity. you renew your vigor, tugging against jungwon’s shoulder with both hands in an attempt to separate him from the man, to reach him and pierce the haze he’s trapped in.

“jungwon! that’s enough! please, let’s just leave!” 

in an instant, he turns to face you. the tension in his brows lessens as he studies the worry littering your entire demeanor – eyes nearly trembling, chest heaving, hands clinging to the fabric of his shirt with such quivering force. the words you shouted in your dismay sounded almost distant, as though he was in a glass enclosement and your voice could only narrowly reach him. now, however, everything seems much clearer. 

he releases the man, unconcerned with his condition, his eyes persistent in the glow of your frame as though you were guiding him from a dim chamber of imprisonment. without a second of hesitation, he catches hold of your hand, and leads you back to the dressing room. 

once you preserve enough control over your shakiness to change, jungwon guides you out of the store in silence. 

the door to his place closing behind you almost seems to commence the pending conversation between the two of you. 

she’s mine.

the words revisit you relentlessly, along with the memory of the devotion, the determination he held in protecting you. although jungwon’s protectiveness was no secret to you, the sight of him undertaking a complete transformation, moving as though he were possessed, was something you couldn’t have ever prepared yourself for. the feelings concocting within you, the concern, the unease, the subtle intrigue – you were entirely unprepared for those, too. 

“won, are you alright?” 

your gentle voice fills his senses, as a sharp inhale fills his lungs. he turns to face you, battling reluctance in meeting your jumbled expression, and he pauses, observing for a moment as you stand in his entryway. 

“i… yea. yea. i’m sorry, babydoll,” his steps guide him closer to you, eliminating the space as though you were magnetized. “i’m so sorry, i just… i saw him, and i… god, i lost control,” his hands ascend to rest in the comfort of your cheeks, thumbs cascading along the skin with evidence of previous tears. “are you okay?”

your mind made the question much more challenging than it should be. 

“i… why did you do that to him, won?”

jungwon could sense where you were taking this conversation, he knew you were confused, but he was unsure just how much he could reveal to you without making you run far away from him.

his hands slip from your face, landing among your shoulders instead. 

“i would do anything for you, you know that,” the words reach you so casually, yet you knew they were shielding a goldmine of much more, and you were not going to stop until you struck it. sure, it was true, but the intensity of his wrath stemmed from much more than a loyal friendship, and that much was certain. 

“i know you would, won. but that’s not what i mean. you wanted to kill him. you told him i was yours. what did you mean by that?”

the sofa to jungwon’s right side suddenly became very interesting. he couldn’t will himself to look you in the eye, not with the weight of the secrets he’s withheld from you for the past six years. 

“it… it doesn’t matter. i just don’t like seeing you get hurt, alright?” 

you brush his hands off your shoulder, though only with gentle intentions. moving to stand in front of him, yearning to meet his eyes and catch a glimpse of even a portion of the emotions concealing themselves behind them, you demand his eye contact akin to the manner he usually does with you. 

“no jungwon, that’s just not it. why can’t you tell me how you feel? we’ve always been honest with each other, at least i thought–”

“yea, sure. we’ve always been honest with each other. but would you still want to be around me if i told you even half the things i think about, everytime i see you?”

the raise of his voice, the tumultuous fire blazing within his eyes as he finally drills them into yours both serve to weaken your stance as shock harrows through you.

“what… what do you mean jungwon? maybe i’ll surprise you.”

there it is. there’s the leverage of hope you give him to cling to with your reassuring words. every fiber of his muscles, his flesh his bones, howl a pleading chorus to just tell you, to finally free himself from the self-invented prison he’s been rotting in for years. the fear, however, grips the key with such daunting force – jungwon would move everest if it meant you would realize the how he felt for you, how heavenly the relationship between the two of you could potentially be. the only issue he’s ever faced, is the danger of shoving you away from him with his admission, and facing the cruel reality of never standing in your presence again. 

“it… it’s not that simple. i’m willing to bet you’d be a little scared of me if you knew how i really felt about you.”

you grasp hold of his hand, hanging onto it with both of yours. “jungwon… it is that simple. please. i’m asking you, just tell me.”

your eyes, those treacherous orbs which always seemed to hold the ability to shatter any sense of reluctance he ever held. now, he knows – this is the moment, this is when it happens. his feelings will finally leave his mind, and crawl into his actions instead.

with the grip you initiated through both of your hands, he yanks your figure to meld against his as his lips meld with yours. his lips meet yours with the intensity of every answer to your question – he’s unleashing it all, everything he kept hidden in the locked box inside of his brain, all the fantasies, all the reactions he could never share. he’s unleashing it all, right now, in this moment with you, and he’ll never put the lid back on. 

his free hand cascades along the expanse of your back, the curve of your waist as is descends to the swell of your ass, where it decides to settle. the other hand soon follows, freeing itself from your loosening grasp as it caresses the same path of your body through your dress, burying itself into your pillowy flesh. though as quickly as they land there, spending a moment to revel in the flesh he’s ogled for years, his hands slink along the lines of your waist once more, sliding along your arms as he guides them to rest around his neck. he’s in complete control, painting your body with his demanding desire as he hoists you up, his sly smirk curling against your lips as your legs wind around him with no inquiry for instruction. 

jungwon treks the journey through his house to his bedroom, the sounds of his impatient footsteps, his lips smacking against yours, the sounds of your pleasured breaths passing into his mouth all fading into the tension-filled air as he finally, after much time to contemplate exactly how he’d treat you here, lays you onto the tender surface of his bed. 

once your body sinks within the plush of his blanket, he separates himself from you, merely enough to provide space for his hand to clasp onto your jaw, his lips still feathering against yours. jungwon presses his fingers into your cheeks, a subtle “open” dancing from his lips to caress against yours as he urges your mouth to relax, stretch wide. the sight your mouth provided him with forced his cock to press into your clothed pussy harder, reminding you of the extent of the intensity he held towards devoting himself to every inch of your body. your saliva was so thick as you opened wide for him that it sprawled from your tongue to the roof of your mouth, creating a wall for his tongue to pass through upon entry – a wall which served only to invite him, rather than prevent him. for a moment, he wonders if your pussy will be wet enough to do the same, once he’s granted the honor of laying his eyes upon her, the sweet girl. though who is he kidding, the desperation crawled over your expression, mirroring his own, so of course you were wet enough for that. 

his tongue pushes into your mouth, moving through your saliva with reverence, and he traces, cherishes every slimy crevice of your tongue with heed. your sounds, your moans only spur him to kiss you harder, press into you harder, cranking up the intensity of his fervor. he’s searching for you, for all of you, anything related to you. he needed more, more, more, of every delicious bit of you.

warring with reluctance, the pulls his lips from the kiss, though he presses one, two, three slippery pecks against your dilated, pouty lips. your chest heaves from the vigor he pumped into every second of the kiss, your eyes burying themselves under the gaze he pins you with. 

the gaze is quick to wane, as his lips embark a journey along your jaw, slopping kisses onto each bit of skin he can find there. layering praises into each press of his lips against your skin, he murmurs, “fuck… good, so fucking good, babydoll,” in fragments, the pressure of his breath puffing against the skin of your jaw as his breathing grows huskier, more taxing from the contact of your body and his own. he’s so, torturously aware of every point of contact in which his body meets yours, he can hardly restrain the ache to rut against your clothed warmth.

in a languid descent, he drags the tip of his nose along the skin underneath your jaw, tickling the surface as he lands upon your neck. gliding up the familiar course of your waist, his hand skips as it skates along the sweat beginning to bloom on your neck, his thumb aiding him in tilting your head back – a larger expanse of your neck presenting itself tauntingly to him. 

he inhales, deep and uninhibited, your scent diffusing through his lungs and permeating his senses in the utmost delectable aroma he’s ever smelled. as his eyes roll back, his mouth quickly presses into your neck, slipping open as he he sucks an utterly greedy amount of skin. his teeth soon follow, sure to leave indentations – he wanted to be sure you knew who owned you once he made you pass out on his bed.

the cry that flees past your lips has him leaning away from your neck, boring into your eyes. “don’t whine, babydoll. i need to mark you.”

his mouth pursues his mutilation of your skin, painting your neck in his saliva and an intense indigo of bruises created to remain with you incessantly. then, as he cascades along the fabric of your dress, reaching them hem, he asks, “are you ready for what happens when this dress comes off?”

though your nod grants him the permission he so feverishly craves, it’s simply not enough. 

his thumbnail digs into the flesh of your thigh, leaving an indentation which will soon be followed by others. “say you’re ready babydoll. i need your words.”

your gentle whimper, and reflexive twitch of your leg precede your reply of, “i’m ready, won.”

once the words fall from your lips, his fingers brush against the straps of your dress, urging them to dangle defenselessly against your shoulder as his lips latch onto your clavicle. while all-but-swallowing the skin there, he tugs your dress along your skin in a tender scrape, revealing parts of your body he’s yet to explore as the dress traverses the paths he’ll soon cross. only parting when he must pull your dress down the expanse of your legs, he draws the dress from your body like a breath, lifting it with reverence.

as your dress plunks down onto the floor, jungwon allows himself a moment to simply stare, absorbing, collecting, finally viewing every visible portion of your body, the body he’s been abstained from for so, so long. 

then, his gaze climbs your body and rises to your eyes, basking in the sheer neediness he discovers there – neediness blossoming from the mere proximity of your bodies, the sensation of your lips moulding, the submission of donning his marks. you have absolutely no idea how beautiful your desire looks on you, he thinks. 

“you look fucking beautiful, just as desperate as i am, huh?” he lifts your wrist to his mouth, his fingers breezily wrapped around it, inhaling your divine scent once more. “you have no idea how good you smell, or taste. i’m gonna devour you, you know that?” the breath laced within each of his words whisk along the skin of your arm, and his lips follow quickly behind their trail, pressing into your skin with worship, exploration. 

jungwon kisses you again, your lips merging only briefly until they land upon your shoulder, his hands guiding you to lean forward as he unclasps your bra deftly, lifting it from your body to accompany your dress. 

he allows the sight in front of him to completely submerge him – the disbelief, the surreality of your tits displayed before him when he’s only ever found the good fortune to leer at them through your clothing. “oh my fucking god,” the adoring whisper erupts from his throat as he leans down, scattering damp kisses along the valley of your breasts, the swell, the temperate quiver of his lips only sending goosebumps along your skin and further hardening your nipples.

of course, jungwon notices – just as he’s nimble in noticing any development gracing your body or mood. his tongue slithers from his mouth, flowing along your skin until he meets your nipple, leaving a trail of slimy saliva in his travels. in spite of the vicinity, he doesn’t provide any kind of contact – he planned to keep you waiting, for certain. not as punishment, but reverence. it was impressive honestly, the patience he presented, considering the strict abstinence he placed on himself from indulging in you. though now that you’re spread beneath him, he’s going to take his time unwrapping every bit of the gift that you are to him. 

jungwon’s tongue circles, swirls the skin surrounding your nipple, though he entirely avoids it – he can’t just slurp it into his mouth as he wants to, as he knows you want him to, he must wander the vast island of your beautiful body that he’s been graced with. shutting his mouth, he gathers his saliva, allowing it to pool onto his tongue, rolling his tongue out and observing wickedly as it coats your nipple, gliding along the bud in a warm glaze. 

a stuttered gasp escapes you convulsively, and your body attempts to retreat further into the mattress as your fingers cling to the fabric of his shirt. the sight causes jungwon’s cock to leap against you, weighing heavier against your heat – the heat concealed only by the lace of your panties. 

“w-won, please!”

the chuckle rising from his amused arousal breezes directly along your agitated nipple, a truly strategic move by him. his hand squishes against the plush of your breast, only urging your nipple closer to his mouth as he speaks. “what’s the matter, babydoll? you know i need to take my time,” his lips caress your nipple as he utters the devious words to you. 

“i-i know, but… but god, i can feel you,” your hips twitch from the symptoms of the torturous restraint they’ve only scarcely clung to, until he presses them further into the mattress with his own, the heft of his cock only encouraging another surge of your arousal, drenching the lacy tendrils of your thong – how sweet, the sight of your desperation building with his own.

“oh, i know babydoll… fuck i can feel you too. you’re making me so fucking hard,”  he knew you could feel him, the fabric of his pants expanding to accommodate his sprouting length, the magnitude of the stretch almost concerning. 

cracking his narrowly held restraint, jungwon encompasses your nipple with his mouth, sucking, swirling, and flicking his tongue around the hardened bud. when your hands entangle themselves in the tendrils of his hair, he hums, and moans, sending vibrations though your already quivering body which pull a jolt from you. jungwon only follows your body as you attempt to retreat further into the mattress, attempting to escape the flutters of harrowing pleasure that his warm, brutally slick tongue pours onto you. 

your hips push against his heft with newfound resistance, your hands willing his head to stay in place and wishing to push him away all the same – though your indecision when faced with such pleasure encourages jungwon to slide his tongue along the valley of your breasts in search of your other nipple, providing a surge of the same treatment onto it. 

the sound of your moans dwindling into silence don’t signal a lack of enjoyment to him – with a glance upwards, taking in the sight of your flickering eyelids and your slackened jaw, he knows you’re merely facing such an overload of sensation that sound can no longer spring from your throat. 

jungwon pulls his lips from your nipple, languid in each movement, still clinging to the feeling of such a sensitive part of you gliding along his tongue, and savoring each response you gifted to him. 

with a final taunting bite to your nipple, and two kisses traced with praise and awe, he completely separates his mouth from your tits. “look at me.”

your eyes haul open, gathering your scattered focus and landing upon the man resting just above your torso. his mouth still carrying the sliminess of his encounter with your tits, his chest prodding against your torso with each inhale, and his own eyes muddled and dim, a peek into the havoc of his mind. 

“my little babydoll, already so worn out,” he leans forward to seize your fluffy lips again, his nose running along the skin of your cheek as he continues. “you’re adorable, you know that? i just wanna keep making you feel this good, but it’s so hard not to just–” he inhales heavily, the fragrance of you reminding him to slow down, to delight in the feast of your body without a hurry. 

“won, i’m so sticky.”

jungwon is racked by a physical pain as you mutter those words, so tender, so sweet, his sweet, sweet baby. for a moment, he’s immobilized, the weight of the blood in his cock becoming nearly too burdening to sustain. 

“mhm… i know, babydoll. i know you are,” his lips feather along your cheek before he adjusts himself to rest on his heels, gripping your ankle as he basks in the luxury of your tender, seemingly intangible pussy by the torturous masquerade he shackled himself in for ages. 

“i’m getting there, i promise, i just need to taste you,” he lifts your foot as his grip persists on your ankle, and sweeps his lips over the bottom of your foot in a reverent kiss. “all over,” then, his tongue presses into the top of your foot, coasting along, tickling your smooth skin until he meets the base of your knee. “you’ll let me do that, won’t you?”

as you tug your leg back in an involuntary yank, jungwon’s grasp only tightens, fingers constricting around your joint. “you’ll let me do that, won’t you?” he repeats. “you’ll be still, and let me have my way?” 

“y-yes, won…” your thigh ripples from the sensitive throbs of your restless pussy – and as if it’s a pattern sewn into his bones, he notices. 

“god, she’s so impatient. she’s so mad at me for denying her, isn’t she?” his eyes maintain focus of the grandeur between your thighs, and he stutters an exhale at the way your panties cling to the eager flesh of your pussy. god, you really are sticky. though the way his boxers cling to the damp head of his cock proves his eagerness in a manner mirroring yours. 

“but she’s so happy that i’m gonna take care of her after all this time, isn’t she?” he embarks upon a journey of kisses to the plush of your thigh, still refusing to make contact with the subject of his conversation. “yea? i’m happy too. you have no idea how fucking happy i am.” 

jungwon’s hands skate forward once more, refusing to leave your legs as he inches closer to the seams of your thong. 

he runs his fingers along the lines as though he were tracing a careful mold for permanence – his fingers glide along each edge, beginning his course on the seam nearest your thighs, then running above the seam between your hips, along your torso. the butterflies flap shamelessly just below the skin his fingers dance along. 

a brief smile appears in it’s subtlety as your torso jumps and stutters, and he leans down to lick the sweat dewing in the valley of your breasts, transitioning seamlessly into faint kisses down the path to your belly button, circling his tongue in the surrounding space, a trail of his saliva painting you in yet another patch of skin.

“w-won… please just take them off,” as you speak, jungwon’s hands shift to pin down your wrists, stiffening your arms for even the mere possibility of you removing your panties yourself. 

“i am, babydoll. you’re just so beautiful when you’re needy.”

he releases your wrists, and his fingers slink beneath the fabric of your thong – he tugs, the lace bunching and squeezing against the flesh of his fingers as he splits it, the fabric weeping in distress as each tendril detaches under the heedless display of jungwon’s greed. after battling meager exertion, he allows the shredded lace to join your other clothing among the floor beside his bed. 

your mangled underwear doesn’t perturb you in the slightest, not when you could see the veins in jungwon’s hands, his forearms, pulsing as he tore them apart with ease. 

“oh, there she is. there’s my girl,” he adjusts his position, leaning down and lowering his face to your awaiting pussy, greeting the flesh with a prodding, lasting press from his lips. 

your hips stutter in response to the thirst of his greeting, providing yourself with the friction of his lips skimming along your lips in tandem. “won!”

his breath breezes onto your pussy, visiting your clit in a faint tickle as he presses his hands further into your thighs to still your twitching, the flesh cushioning around his fingers. “did you like that babydoll? she’s so sweet, you know. sweet as you,” and he bites the visible plush of your ass with the fervor to pull a chunk out, another chuckle passing his lips as you whimper. 

your opening meets his tongue first, and he drags your juices between your lips to meet your clit, circling your most reactive nerve and smearing the evidence of the pleasure you received from him onto the bundle. his eyes flutter, roll into the depths of his skull as he relishes in the taste, the lavish flavor of your pussy for the first time – god, his fantasies were cowering in shame as your honey seeped into his tastebuds. dewy, sugary, slimy. everything he could’ve ever dreamed of and more. 

“fuck, you have no idea how good you taste. i can show you, though,” his lips still maintain a wispy contact with your pussy as he speaks directly into the flesh. 

with every facet of the word ‘show,’ he keeps his promise. his mouth delves into your pussy with such intention, such ardor joining his movements – behaviors possessing his tongue with a spirit that only the flavor of something truly delicious could summon. his tongue nudges your glistening entrance, drenched so generously he can no longer differentiate his saliva from the slipperiness of your arousal. his tongue swirls within the creaminess surrounding him, the silkiness of your walls, stretching as far as the limitations of his muscle would allow. he slurps, sucking your wetness into his mouth and swallowing unhurriedly, the exhale that succeeds puffing blissfully against your pulsating lips. jungwon feasted, swaying his head side to side as he urged his tongue deeper, scooting closer to your warmth as he willed every thread of his mind, his body to stumble further into the hypnosis you cast upon him with the addictive taste of your honey. 

his thumb pushes into your clit, and he moans as your entrance constricts around his tongue, only strengthening his need to continue exploring your slimy palace. as his thumb circles your clit, pressing into you with a flawless balance of brutal and tender, your hands leave their solace in the soft blanket to burrow into his hair, punishing the strands beyond your willful knowledge, because the boundless sensations hurtling through you seem to numb your ability to discern the fervor behind your actions.

rapidly, unrestrainedly, in hopes of freeing yourself from the tension, the pleasure, you flee towards an orgasm that will only bring you so much more. jungwon feels you, he senses your impending eruption, and the blaring cries you’re entertaining him with only induce him into making your bliss even sweeter.

his tongue slops from your entrance, though his thumb still winds your clit, and his lips further coat themselves in your honey as he speaks. “mmm, thats it. let me know how good i make you fucking feel. you gonna cum? gonna be all mine when you do,” he kisses your entrance, his words drifting through the air in a blabbered haze. 

with every intention of chasing you towards your peak, jungwon’s tongue replaces his thumb on your clit, his mouth wrapping around the space to hug you in tandem, a compressing suction joining the spirals his tongue creates. the flesh of your pussy pillows around his lips, his nose meeting the skin just above your clit as he drives his face impossibly closer to you. his tongue pulses against your clit,  and your pussy throbs against him in response to each pulse – a rhythmic push and pull of throbbing and jolting. 

as you heave breaths of delight, whines emitting between each pump of your chest, jungwon’s fingers dive into your entrance, the sight of your ecstasy prodding him to set his pace hard, fast, mimicking the cadence of your breaths. 

your walls welcome his fingers with passion, clinging, fastening to them as he wars with the snug fit you enclose him in. “fuck, babydoll… you gonna suck my cock in like this?” though he carries no doubt that you will. 

the words send you tumbling, then ascending to the orgasm you’ve feared and longed for from the moment he removed your dress. the pitch and tempo of your cries increase on kindred paths, your fingers pull against his hair in a punishing drag, and your pussy swallows his fingers with faltering pulses as a sea of rapture engulfs you. 

“oh… god, won,” you pant, the flesh of your thighs and torso still navigating the ripples of your orgasm. 

jungwon’s fingers gloop out of your opening, and he lifts the flooded digits to his nose, inhaling with a heavy breath before closing his mouth around them. as he pulls his fingers from his mouth, the only moisture glistening against them is his saliva, all traces of your creamy arousal now sliding down his throat in a satiated gulp.  

“you were beautiful, babydoll. you’re so fucking beautiful. god, you’re just spilling all over my bed, like the sexy little flower you are.”  

a flower. his flower, in his secret garden, never to be traversed by another from this day onward.

he leaves the bed to rid himself of the burden, the barrier of his own clothing, a certain irritation now coursing through him towards the fabric – it’s the only thing preventing him from plunging into the offering you’re proving him with, all sprawled out on his bed after he’s tallied the days he’s spent without claiming you as though he was in a prison cell awaiting his dear release. 

he’s efficient with each item of clothing he drops, allowing them to plop to the floor with no regard for their destination. now entirely bare, he returns to his bed, crawling over your spread figure with restrained longing embedded in each of his movements. 

his eyes fall into yours, observing the way you observe him. the fascination, the craving your eyes held as they trailed over his body, over his aching cock without an inkling of shame – it almost had his arms buckling in their effort of holding himself above you.  

“hey, you ready?”

the sound of his voice, gentle as the blanket beneath you, softened your lust for a moment as you inhaled with a faint gasp, willing the words of reassurance from your exhausted throat. you find yourself distracted by his length, the size and heft of it, as it stood so painfully erect before you, almost reaching out to you in it’s yearning. though your gaze climbs back to his eyes, discovering a subtle amusement within them.

“yea, i’m ready. as i possibly can be.”

his cheeks tug his lips into a delicate smile, and his thumb nuzzles your cheek to lavish you in his fond admiration. “you promise? i’m gonna make you understand exactly how i’ve felt for the past six years. are you ready for that?”

“won, i promise.”

your promise carries a staggering conviction that compels a groan from jungwon’s throat, though he battles it’s full emergence. his hand coasts from your cheek, fingers feathering along your neck as he settles in a velvety grip on your thigh. 

he basks in the sight beneath him, and it’s layered with a fiercer significance than merely you beneath him – you’re laid out for him, your body pleading for him, providing for him in ways his fantasies couldn’t have ever hoped to mimic. you grace him with the privilege of pleasing you, and you return the sentiments of his pure admiration – each second of this reality seems too ambitious, and he’s almost afraid he’ll wake from a dream. though the sincerity of your touch, your eyes, anchors him with the with the weight that this is real, and you’re truly here. 

his eyes sail to your pussy, nearly growling in appreciation of the sight – your arousal pours out of you, flowing plentifully onto the plush of his blanket with a current akin to a waterfall. though it was your waterfall, streaming for him, all for him and the surreality was overwhelming.

“beautiful, wet fucking mess,” he whispers the praise as his hand curls around his ample girth, resting the weight of his cock between your folds as he rolls his hips, reveling in the bounds of your wetness without yet invading your entrance. his moan is gravelly, awestruck, intertwining with the breathless gasp that floats from your lips. as your hand travels along the planes of his torso muttering “fuck, won,” it almost does him in – his restraint nearly cracks, gracing him with half a mind to just ram inside of you, though his devotion to your comfort holds him back, even narrowly. 

as a drop of his precum drips onto your clit, rolling down to join the waters of your arousal, he unravels. 

“need you to look at me,” his voice is enshrouded in a shattering honesty, and he awaits your returned gaze, powerless until you grant him the certainty within your needy eyes. as you peer at him, the head of his cock prods your entrance, swirling in the wet, slipperiness pooling there, because of him. 

“there’s my babydoll,” and now you are his babydoll, fully and truly as he pushes into you, staring into your eyes as though he could read your mind. his hips press further, and further, maintaining eye contact with you, even as they roll into the depths of your skull. 

“fuck, i… goddamn, baby,” he’s entirely sheathed in you, the velvety depths of you that even his imagination couldn’t muster the euphoria of. breathless curses are all he can manage as he attempts to regain the bearings he lost with each inch he planted within your warmth. so, so deviously wet, and almost nourishing as the pleasure blossoming within you causes you to flutter around his length – he doesn’t want to mention it, for the fear that you’ll stop doing it. 

he wanted, needed, longed to share the swelling flame kindling in his chest with you. he needed to share this feeling, this ache, he needed you to know it, and return it so the two of you could become engulfed in a suffocating warmth together. though now, you were. 

his shoulders caged you in, imprisoning you, though you were completely safe, completely at ease in his protection. he showered you in ecstasy with each roll of his hips, digging, driving his cock into you as though he were searching for some kind of treasure – the confirmation that you belonged exclusively to him. he kisses you, sliding his lips down to the solace of your neck and reminding you in between long presses of his lips, “you’re mine, you’re mine,” without even fully withdrawing from the kiss – how could he ever remove any part of himself from you?

your volume, the unbridled bliss clawing underneath the sounds of your pleasure, only spurs his hips into moving faster, pump, pump, pumping into you as your feeble walls can only squelch in submission. the pleasure radiating from you was so loud, molten in the air, he’s almost convinced he can hear voices emitting from your pussy. either you’re that wet or he’s just insane, but both have proven to be true. 

with a familiar inhale, he pulls away from your neck to train his eyes in their rightful position upon yours. “whose pussy is this?” he still pumps into you, driving through your moisture and thumping his hips against your pillowy flesh, almost in defiance of just how good you make him feel.

“y-yours…” 

the whiny intonation of your voice cutting through your blaring wails draws a growl from his chest. “whose?”

“yours, won! a-all yours…” the words only narrowly manage to flee from your throat, the quaking force of his cock driving through you causing each of your sounds to stutter. 

“mmm… yea, i’m the one touching you. i’m the, fuck, i’m the one taking care of you. my babydoll.”

jungwon leans up, boundless shoulders still enclosing you, and leads your thighs closer to your chest, a subtle tenderness and control laced in the gesture. ceaseless in his thrusts, his movements only gaining momentum now, he heaves, “i own this body. tell me i own this perfect body. tell me you know.” 

the relentless piles of euphoria were beginning to reach an overwhelming degree, and you felt overstimulated though you hadn’t even drenched his cock in your cum yet. although for jungwon, it almost seemed as though you had – with such ease, he slid along your dewy walls, the endless cascade of your wetness continuing to smother him, devouring every ridge of his cock in a flood powerful enough to drown him.

“i-i know! body’s yours…” 

your brain hardly comprehends the words before they spill out, running solely on the aspiration to bow to jungwon’s commands, too muddled by the crushing ecstasy to conjure much more. jungwon understands, though – he hears every facet of your responses, decoding each syllable, clinging to every drop of agreeance he can squeeze out of you. 

all the time he’s spent in your presence, and now he can see you like this. all this time, and you’ve longed for more, too. “mhm, mine. all of this,” his thrusts drill into you heavier, faster, “belongs to me.” 

jungwon kisses you once more, pouring his newfound ownership into the movements of his tongue, and his hips. the sound of your wails progressing into airy sobs alerts him of the looming arrival of your orgasm, and oh, if he’s not ecstatic about being enraptured by that sight. he ingests your sounds, your delight, threading them into his own breaths, and the grumble of the groans flowing from his chest into your mouth in return. as he withdraws his lips, a trail of spit strings between the two of you, connecting you – it almost resembles the thin, silver chain decorating jungwon’s neck, and he wishes he could wear a mold of the shared saliva instead. 

“fuck… come on, babydoll. cum all over me. show me you’re all mine, i know you can do it.”

the immobilizing echoes of his thrusts, the graze of his torso along your clit – the sensations shudder through you, pushing and pushing you to untangle, to float in the electrifying pool of indescribable bliss that jungwon poured for you, only ever you. as you cum, now surging his cock with the downpour of your creamy arousal, you almost swell, your torso and thighs rippling as the pleasure courses through every imaginable crevice of you, every stream of your blood. as he observes, he’s enchanted, bound by the wordless spell you sprinkle him with – a chorus of angels should kneel in shame of being compared to the beautiful sounds you cry as you cum. your body, your untethered writhes, your twitches and throbs as your pussy hugs him in gratitude of the pleasure – he could attest to seeing, feeling, tasting heaven, thanks to you. 

as your wails subside, leaving breathless whines in their absence, jungwon’s brows crinkle – his own signal of an almost palpable orgasm. 

“i– fuck, oh god,” his hips jerk, spasm, push into you in his chase of final pumps. each spurt of his delicious cum fills you with his devotion, staining you with the reminder that he wasn’t in control of his actions anymore, only you. his heartbeat thrums against his eardrums, the sensation of making your tummy swell with his cum, the woman he’s craved with his every will, was almost hallucinatory. his fingers gripped, squeezed your thighs, mirroring the manner your pussy squeezed him, and his nails dug into your skin with a pressure ensuring indentations, further marks of his possession. 

his chest expands, panting heavily with the labors of his exhaustion. he slips from your pussy, steady, no semblance of hurry leading his movements at all. a final gush of his cum spills onto your tummy as he flops his cock against the flesh, bumping it there once, twice, to ensure he gives you every pearly drop. his fingers scoop the liquid, sliding them past your weary, obedient lips and smearing it onto your tongue. as you swallow, jungwon’s breath escapes him with a smile. 

he kisses your shoulder, skims his lips along your clavicle, then kisses your lips with adoration dripping from his own. then he settles beside you, tugging your spent body to drift closer to his own, only ceasing when you nestle into the safety of his chest. his hand sails to your thigh, lifting it with heed as his softening cock parts you again, slinking into you in search of solace. now that you knew every layer, now that he owned you, he wouldn’t allow a moment for connection to pass him again. 

“don’t you get tired? fucking me that fast…” the words tumble from your compliant lips, tickling his chest with your breath.

his hand skates along the expanse of your back, treating even your blemishes with reverence. “are you kidding? i could go again right now if you wanted,” a gentle chuckle leaves him, the rumble of his chest lulling you further into the drowsiness you battled to listen to his words.  

“has it been hard?” 

he knew exactly what your words referred to – he was expectant of your curiosity toward the torment he endured to hide his obsession from you, though he was almost amused.

“no, it.. it hasn’t been hard at all. i would do it again, and again, if it meant i got you at the end.”

never in your life had you fallen into a mere contemplation of a feeling anywhere close to being so cherished. you almost want to erase the memories you hold of other men, wanting to reserve every slot in your brain for your jungwon. every moment you spent without experiencing the display of affection beyond love that jungwon showers you in seems so trivial now. though, that’s exactly what jungwon wants – he wants to engulf you, absorb you until your satisfaction is centered around only what he does for you. 

as you sleep against him, he holds a brief consideration to snap a photo of the marks he left on you to show his friends, especially heeseung, but he quickly dismisses the thought – he doesn’t want anyone else to even imagine a single inch of your body. 

the morning follows and cradles the two of you in utter contentment, the memories resurfacing with surreality for jungwon. so it wasn’t a dream, he thinks. 

as your bleary eyes adjust to the haze of sunlight saturating the room, you discover a familiar bundle of lace resting proudly upon the surface of his bedside table. with fond annoyance, you shake your head, your hair skimming his chest. so that’s where they went. of course you failed to notice them yesterday, given the way he was mutilating you with his hefty cock. 

you begin to lean up, though jungwon’s hand snaps to your arm before your warmth could leave him. “and where do you think you’re going?”

“hm? i was just gonna shower,” his ability to sense your departure even in his sleep almost startles you, but it pleases you all the same. 

his head dances, swaying side to side. “not without me. you don’t do anything without me anymore.”

I am not responsible for the content you consume. Content warnings are listed above (I may have missed something), please read thoroughly so you know what to expect. This is very, very dark, and I do NOT condone these things happening in real life. THIS IS A FANFICTION, WHICH MEANS IT DOES NOT DEPICT HOW NI-KI IS IN REAL LIFE.

ฅᨐฅ note: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

part one: I've waited so long for this, angel.

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You stayed bent over the table after a few minutes Riki left, only getting up when the sound of music being played loudly throughout the stadium startled you. You wanted to scream, cry, throw something against the wall. You were mad, mad at Riki, but even more mad at yourself. You were furious.

Why the fuck hadn’t you done anything? Why did you just lie there and let it happen? It wasn’t right! You should have fought! You’re so fucking stupid! No wonder he raped you!

Your thoughts went from questions to insults; you’ve always been against yourself. Your mind and body hated each other, never seeming to cooperate, not even in the face of danger. Even so, you gathered any dignity and self-respect you had left and pulled your pants and panties up simultaneously, wincing at the feeling of Riki’s and your release wetting your panties. There weren’t any tissues around; you’d have to clean yourself properly when you went back to your station.

You shuddered the moment you heard Riki’s angelic voice singing his part of the song; you had to physically force yourself to move, his voice was haunting you.

You practically ran back to where you were stationed the moment another member sang, not wanting to freeze again in the empty hallway. You wouldn’t let yourself be affected like that.

Other stylists looked to you in confusion once you arrived—some worried, some curious—you figured it was because you disappeared for nearly 20 minutes until you caught sight of yourself through one of the mirrors in the dressing room. You looked like a mess. You were incredibly sweaty, your skin glistening, and the side of your face had a red mark from when Riki shoved your face against the table. As you stared at your sloppy state in the mirror, you could feel everyone’s judgmental eyes on you. You didn’t want to deal with this right now, no, you couldn’t, so you ran for one of the empty break rooms, knowing the others still had something important to do than snoop on you.

“Hey…” One of the stylists, Seoyeon, gently placed her hand on your shoulder. She placed a water bottle in front of you. “You look like a mess.” The observation was obvious, but her tone didn’t make you feel judged for it. You sat there, unmoving, flinching a bit when you felt Seoyeon undo your ruined ponytail, carefully fixing it into a braid. Seoyeon didn’t force you to talk; she simply made sure her touches were gentle when looking at the mark on your face. “Did you fall?” Her voice was soft, asking despite knowing her question would be left unanswered. Her soft hand enveloped yours as she placed an icepack on your palm, guiding your hand to your face and making you hold the icepack against the red mark.

“Feel better soon, I’ll cover for you.” Seoyeon squeezed your shoulder before leaving you alone; only then did you feel tears run down your face.

You didn’t know what to expect after the concert. Riki thankfully didn’t look for you after soundcheck, considering they had a significant amount of free time after soundcheck before going back on stage for the concert. Not knowing Riki wasn’t going to assault you again after soundcheck, you still did your best to hide. You stayed in the break room for the rest of the day, knowing Seoyeon had your back. You didn’t dare leave, not even when your mind screamed at you repeatedly to clean yourself up. You felt disgusting and used, sure, but you didn’t want to encounter Riki. You didn’t want to risk anything.

Riki’s eyes searched for your face every time they entered the dressing room for a change of clothes; he didn’t know where you were until he looked at Jake after futile attempts to find you each time. Jake looked confused talking to another stylist, Seoyeon, whose name he thinks was. He must be looking for you, too, after all, you are his stylist and you’ve grown to be friends after spending nearly every schedule together.

Riki figured he’d approach Jake later, devising a plan to get the older to spill about your whereabouts without the need to ask directly.

“Hyung,” Riki called after Jake, jogging to catch up with him. “Jake-hyung.”

Jake hummed in acknowledgment, looking up to meet Riki’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“What was up at the dressing room earlier? You looked stressed.” Riki played it cool, not wanting to seem too curious.

“Oh, my stylist wasn’t around. They said she’s sick, or something.” Jake shrugged, not questioning the younger’s intentions; he just told him like the open book he was.

So predictable.

Riki feigned a solemn expression, nodding along at Jake’s explanations. “Hope she’ll be okay soon.”

“Yeah, I hope so too.” Jake forced a smile, putting his in-ears on before patting Riki on the back as he made his way over to the stage.

You’re sick, they say? Well, you can’t be. Can you? He hoped it wasn’t fatigue or morning sickness; it’d be too soon for him to have knocked you up. Riki shook his head, telling himself he’d find you later. He, too, made his way over to the stage, putting on a smile as he heard the cheers get louder.

—

Jake Hey. You good? They told me you’re not feeling well.

You exited the bathroom with a contented sigh, feeling refreshed after showering. You saw your phone light up on your bed. Hearing it vibrate with the notification, you picked it up, seeing Jake’s texts from earlier. You hadn’t been on your phone, so you’re only seeing this now.

You Hey. I’m okay now. I got some rest earlier, which is why I wasn’t able to reply to you. Jake’s reply was almost instant.

Jake Oh, that’s good. You worried me a bit because you were just fine earlier.

You I’m sorry for worrying you. I didn’t expect to feel sick either. Maybe it was something I ate.

Jake Get better soon, okay? Don’t come in tomorrow if you’re still not feeling well.

You I will. Thanks for the concern, Jake.

You felt a bit better at Jake’s concern, though he was a naturally caring person, it still made you feel a bit giddy that he took the time to check up on you. You felt safe now in the comfort of your hotel room, and you drank the water Seoyeon gave you earlier, feeling a sense of appreciation for the girl. You smoothed the covers of your bed before lying on it, drifting to sleep almost instantly.

Riki waited for midnight to strike before walking over to your hotel room, your room’s keycard held tightly in his grasp. He crossed paths with Seoyeon on his way to your room, giving her a nod of acknowledgment, ignoring the flushed expression on her face after being caught leaving a superior’s room. Riki’s pace hastened as he saw your door in sight, already holding the keycard out so he could enter your room quickly. He knew about her inappropriate relationships with many of the company’s superiors anyway.

A small beep was heard when Riki unlocked the door, and he entered as if it were his room. He shut the door behind him. He almost moaned at the sight of you looking peacefully asleep on your bed. It’s almost time until the drugs Riki had Seoyeon give you wore off, as much as Riki wanted you all pliant, it’s kind of boring knowing who he was raping wasn’t awake to witness it.

Riki didn’t waste much more time, tearing the blanket off your sleeping body and pulling your shoulder so you lay on your back. Though he wanted to tear your clothes off of you, he kept himself under control and instead peeled them from your body gently, his cock hardening whenever more of your bare skin was exposed to his hungry eyes. He spread your legs, situating himself in between them properly before diving in like it was his last meal.

Riki licked at your dry, unwilling pussy, spitting, biting, and sucking at it to get it wet with his saliva and your juices as he slowly got your body worked up. He slung your legs over his shoulders, keeping them there with his big hands as he let himself be suffocated by your heavenly sex. This went on for at least 10 minutes before he decided he had had enough and wanted to be inside you.

He was breathing heavily, catching his breath as he hastily took his clothes off, pumping his raging dick as he watched you, still unconscious. Riki knew you’d wake up soon, maybe even as he entered you. It’ll be painful, Riki will make sure of it.

Riki guided his leaking tip to your leaking hole, rubbing it to spread his pre-cum all over your wet pussy lips. He pressed his thick thumb to your neglected clit as he pushed into you. Once his tip was in, he shoved the rest of his length into you harshly. Riki stayed that way for a moment, relishing inside your tight heat, before starting his merciless thrusts. He felt you squirm a bit underneath him, and a smile found its way to his face.

You were met with Riki’s smiling face as you awoke from your dreamless slumber, feeling stuffed to the brim. “You’re finally awake,” You heard him say, letting out a strained whine at a particularly rough thrust.

“Why don’t you make more sounds like that, hm?” Riki pouted, watching you start to fully regain consciousness. He felt your dainty hands trying to push at his abdomen, and he laughed. “Oh, angel, you were just taking it earlier, why are you fighting me now, hm?”

Riki tutted when you turned your face away from him as he leaned in to kiss you. He responded by grabbing your chin and holding it in place with a hand, pressing his lips to yours. The man above you roughly made out with you, mouths and noses pressed together, so pressed to the point where it was hard for you both to breathe. Riki pulled away, flipping you over so you were on your stomach while staying inside you.

“Why won’t you talk to me, angel? I haven’t even fucked you dumb yet,” Riki breathlessly whispered in your ear, landing a sharp slap to your ass. “We’ve barely started and you’re already fucked dumb, huh?” Riki slapped your ass again, starting to get frustrated.

“Talk to me, angel.” Riki bent down, whispering into your ear.

Your mind was screaming at you to talk, all your senses feeling overstimulated, and for once, your body let your mind win. “No.”

“No? But, angel, you just did.” Riki chuckled, squeezing the red flesh of your ass. “C’mon, you can do better. Tell me you’re mine.”

Riki shoved three of his thick fingers inside of you beside his cock, tutting in disapproval as you shook your head, muttering another ‘no’. “Angel, don’t be difficult.” He slowly thrusted his fingers in and out of you, matching the pace of his cock.

Riki waited patiently for you to do as he said, never ceasing his thrusts. He let a few minutes pass before slapping your ass again; this time, even harder. “Tell me you’re mine, angel.”

“I’m yours!” You screamed into the pillow, starting to sob at the throbbing pain you felt in your backside. Riki scoffed at your cries, taking a fistful of your hair with his free hand and pulling you up so your back was pressed to his chest. He pulled his fingers out of your sopping pussy, shoving them into your mouth to muffle your screams of pain.

“Fucking hell, angel. You were so quiet earlier, look at you now.” Riki groaned, pulling your hair to elicit a sound from you. You didn’t disappoint, crying out a moan at Riki’s tug. He didn’t keep you in that position for long; he let go of your hair, letting you fall forward. His hands moved to your waist, maneuvering you to fuck back onto him, disgusting sounds of skin slapping on skin heard throughout the otherwise silent hotel room.

Riki glanced to the side, spotting his phone and getting an idea in his head. He quickly grabbed it, letting go of your body, then opened the camera and pressed the record button. He held it in a way where only your lower halves are seen. He let his phone record every moan, every whine, every whimper of yours his thrusts caused; no matter how small.

“Yeah, angel, let the camera hear how much of a whore you are.” Riki chuckled, cutting the recording right after you creamed on his cock. “You got me all worried earlier, angel.” Riki tossed his phone to the side, hands situating themselves on your hips. “They said you were sick, but you’re just a pretty little liar, aren’t you?”

Riki flipped you onto your back again, still chasing his high. “So pretty like this, aren’t you?” He commented, bending down to suck at your neck. He left multiple bite marks and hickeys on your neck, his thrusts slowing. He was getting close, but he wanted it to last, to feel more pleasurable than just chasing it like a dog in heat. He wanted his release to come to him.

Your moans gradually got louder every time Riki bottomed out; he could tell you liked this slow pace more. “You must be a little romantic, aren’t you, angel? Slow sex your thing, hm?” Riki smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder before pulling back to look at you while he fucked you sensually. His eyes danced all over your body, landing on your abdomen, where there was a notable rise and fall of the skin there every time he pushed in and out.

“What if I knocked you up, angel?” Riki asked, knowing he probably has already. “You’d look good with my baby.”

You shook your head, more tears running down your face.

“Hmm? No? I’ll fuck you like this every day if you give me a baby,” Riki offered, biting back a laugh as he watched your expression turn shocked, fearful.

Riki wiped your tears away, keeping his hands on your face so he could wipe away the tears that had just escaped. He peppered small, sweet kisses all over your face as well, thrusting deep as he came inside you with a groan.

“Shh, stop crying.”

“It’s over now,” Riki assured, brushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead.

Over for now.

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

ฅᨐฅ note: and that's part 2 😛

taglist:

@chuuyaobsessed, @choeryyxyz, @engeneheree

it was after a pair work in one of your shared subjects that helped blossom your relationship with him. he was an easygoing person, and it always felt natural to talk to him regardless of the topic. as you turned from acquaintance to friends, then the day came when he asked you out, which you agreed to.

the date was fun, and the two of you enjoyed each other's presence. after dinner, he suggested walking around the nearby park while you were conversing with him. he stopped in his tracks, which confused you, before he faced you with a determined face.

“yn, i've been wanting to tell you this for a long time," as jay held your hands into his. "i didn’t want to end this day without saying this to you or regretting it in the future. i will accept whatever answer you gave me,” he continued as he rubs your knuckles. he then took a deep breath.

“i like you, yn.” he blurted, pausing before continuing, "if you give me the chance, i won't let you down."

tension was in the air as he waits for your response.

“i like you too, jay. i would love to give you the chance,” as you reached for his cheeks.

jay grabbed your face closer to him, "can i?" he asked before you leaned forward and pressed into his lips.

after four years of dating, jay decided to make you his wife. he proposed on the beach where the two of you had your first trip as a couple.

the wedding was amazing, filled with close relatives and friends. the honeymoon was even more beautiful as you two traveled across the world.

six months into your marriage, he's still the same man you knew when you were dating. he showers you with love in all possible ways. it can be through expensive gifts, home-cooked meals, massages, or pleasure.

he knows how to make you happy and content. in return, you shower him with unconditional love. he deserves as much as he gives you.

it's been one year since you two got married, which means it is your wedding anniversary.

he prepared a simple candlelit dinner accompanied by soft tunes as he placed the food on your table. he cooked a simple meal with a complimentary wine on the side. as you two talked through the night, and it ended with your skins connected under the sheets.

almost two years into your marriage, the both of you were blessed with two beautiful twin daughters.

when you broke the news to him, he was initially surprised but quickly lifted you up while showering your face with kisses all over.

throughout your pregnancy, he made sure you were taking your required medications, taking you to every doctor's appointment, and eating a full, balanced meal, and overall he made your journey as easy as possible. this is why you make yourself feel good despite growing two people inside you.

when the twins were born, he assured you that he would be the one taking the night shift while you slept through the night.

he wants you to get all the rest you deserve and leave it up to him to take care of his angels. he was there all throughout your postpartum and made sure you were well attended and eating according to the recommendations of your doctor.

there were times you felt not yourself, and he would always say, “i love you, no matter what. i will always be there for you and the twins. i will never leave you and will always prove to you that i deserve to be your husband and the father to your children,” as he placed a kiss on your lips.

mornings tend to be chaotic, especially with having two toddlers in the mix, but he always makes sure his queen and princesses are well taken care of and ready for the day.

the girls are starting to grow up, and it makes you feel a bit of a sting despite them being only in kindergarten.

you won’t forget the day when the both of you dropped off the twins for their very first day in school, and he started crying when you came back in the car.

“love, the twins will be back after a few hours. we will pick them up later,” you try to assure him while wiping his tears and caressing his hair.

“i just can’t believe those two are getting big; it felt like yesterday i was holding them in my arms in the hospital,” he choked up while trying to steady his breathing.

the drive back home was tough, but the day ended with the four of you sharing a meal as the twins shared their experience in daycare.

it was after a pair work in one of your shared subjects that helped blossom your relationship with him. he was an easygoing person, and it always felt natural to talk to him regardless of the topic. as you turned from acquaintance to friends, then the day came when he asked you out, which you agreed to.

the date was fun, and the two of you enjoyed each other's presence. after dinner, he suggested walking around the nearby park while you were conversing with him. he stopped in his tracks, which confused you, before he faced you with a determined face.

“yn, i've been wanting to tell you this for a long time," as jay held your hands into his. "i didn’t want to end this day without saying this to you or regretting it in the future. i will accept whatever answer you gave me,” he continued as he rubs your knuckles. he then took a deep breath.

“i like you, yn.” he blurted, pausing before continuing, "if you give me the chance, i won't let you down."

tension was in the air as he waits for your response.

“i like you too, jay. i would love to give you the chance,” as you reached for his cheeks.

jay grabbed your face closer to him, "can i?" he asked before you leaned forward and pressed into his lips.

after four years of dating, jay decided to make you his wife. he proposed on the beach where the two of you had your first trip as a couple.

the wedding was amazing, filled with close relatives and friends. the honeymoon was even more beautiful as you two traveled across the world.

six months into your marriage, he's still the same man you knew when you were dating. he showers you with love in all possible ways. it can be through expensive gifts, home-cooked meals, massages, or pleasure.

he knows how to make you happy and content. in return, you shower him with unconditional love. he deserves as much as he gives you.

it's been one year since you two got married, which means it is your wedding anniversary.

he prepared a simple candlelit dinner accompanied by soft tunes as he placed the food on your table. he cooked a simple meal with a complimentary wine on the side. as you two talked through the night, and it ended with your skins connected under the sheets.

almost two years into your marriage, the both of you were blessed with two beautiful twin daughters.

when you broke the news to him, he was initially surprised but quickly lifted you up while showering your face with kisses all over.

throughout your pregnancy, he made sure you were taking your required medications, taking you to every doctor's appointment, and eating a full, balanced meal, and overall he made your journey as easy as possible. this is why you make yourself feel good despite growing two people inside you.

when the twins were born, he assured you that he would be the one taking the night shift while you slept through the night.

he wants you to get all the rest you deserve and leave it up to him to take care of his angels. he was there all throughout your postpartum and made sure you were well attended and eating according to the recommendations of your doctor.

there were times you felt not yourself, and he would always say, “i love you, no matter what. i will always be there for you and the twins. i will never leave you and will always prove to you that i deserve to be your husband and the father to your children,” as he placed a kiss on your lips.

mornings tend to be chaotic, especially with having two toddlers in the mix, but he always makes sure his queen and princesses are well taken care of and ready for the day.

the girls are starting to grow up, and it makes you feel a bit of a sting despite them being only in kindergarten.

you won’t forget the day when the both of you dropped off the twins for their very first day in school, and he started crying when you came back in the car.

“love, the twins will be back after a few hours. we will pick them up later,” you try to assure him while wiping his tears and caressing his hair.

“i just can’t believe those two are getting big; it felt like yesterday i was holding them in my arms in the hospital,” he choked up while trying to steady his breathing.

the drive back home was tough, but the day ended with the four of you sharing a meal as the twins shared their experience in daycare.

Even before getting any experience, he'd been aware of just how comically large his dick was. He'd known ever since he had to go out of his way to search for porn with ‘massive cock!’ in the title for it to look anything like his, and even then he often found himself thinking they had to be exaggerating a bit for the sake of clicks.

Turns out, the comparison with real life average sizes is even more ridiculous.

He knows it sounds silly, there are hordes of men out there that would pay good money to swap places with him—his dear friend Jake being the first in line.

Sunghoon still cringes when he remembers the first time he'd oh so innocently asked Jake for his opinion on the matter. Truthfully, all he wanted to hear from his bleached blonde friend was some reassurance, maybe how it was all in his head, or how at the end of the day the right person would love and appreciate every part of him no matter what, or whatever you tell people in situations like these. His first mistake was believing Jake out of all his friends would do the most tactful thing.

“That thing’s like—fucking huge!” Jake shrieked, grabbing Sunghoon’s phone out of his hands, every protest falling on deaf ears. “There’s no fucking way, man.”

“It’s not that b—” Sunghoon tries to speak, but Jake stops him before he even gets a sentence in, calling Jay’s name at the top of his lungs. 

“What are you—”

“WHAT,” Jay yells back from the kitchen, over the deafening sound of the food processor in use, annoyed by Jake’s continuous interruptions that day. Of which at least four were to show him some nasty looking recipe he found on tiktok.

“You gotta come take a look at this!”

At the time, Sunghoon was still vaguely uncomfortable around Jay. He was nice enough, and he was a great roommate, so there was that at least. It was a good trade off because the other option was staying at the way too crowded shitty dorms, and he liked the privacy that this deal got him. He wasn't always on board with it, Jake had to talk him into it when high school ended, but he swore him and Jay would be the bestest of friends if only he could let his reservations behind for a little, at least give him a chance.

Sunghoon moved away halfway through the second year of high school, and for a while it felt like Jay had swapped places with him and taken the life he was supposed to live for himself. First his best friend, Jake. Then the girl of his dreams, the one he never found the courage to confess to, you.

Thing is, while Sunghoon could recognize Jay had done absolutely nothing wrong to him per se, he still felt betrayed by him in a way. Truly it was just envy.

The food processor comes to an abrupt halt, and all that can be heard from the other room is a deep sigh, followed by the sound of dragged footsteps as their tall friend walks into the messy—in the way only college boys living spaces can be—living room with resignation. “Fine. But this better have nothing to do with Cheetos or tacos.” 

“Much better.” Jake winks at him, nudging Sunghoon’s hands away with his elbow, the younger hissing in pain. “Behold,” he turns the phone towards an unassuming Jay, aware of the fact he's about to change the older's view of Sunghoon forever.“Sunghoon’s monster of a cock.”

Jay’s hands stop on his apron, (the ridiculous one with a bodybuilder torso and cheetah boxers Jungwon got him for a secret Santa) and his mouth hangs open for a second too long, before he comes back to his senses and notices how Sunghoon slumps back on the couch, cheeks burning red. Jay swats the phone out of Jake’s hand. “What the fuck is your problem, dude.”

“What? I’m just saying it’s way larger than average!”

“He’s uncomfortable.” Jay says, going back to drying his hands on the apron. “Leave him be.”

This only makes Sunghoon’s cheeks redder, his ears a bright pink too. Jake scoffs, eyeing him suspiciously. “Sure. I’m sure having a porn star cock must be so mortifying. Who even complains about stuff like this?” he snickers before making his voice a pitch higher. “‘Poor me! My dick’s too heavy! What will I do!”

“Oh my god,” Sunghoon runs a hand through his hair, pulling the ends a bit. “It is not that big.” He looks at Jay for support, expecting him to disagree with Jake.

Jay’s gaze falters to his pants for a split second. His mouth twists but he remains silent.

“Not you too.” Sunghoon's hands now hold his face as he sinks into the cushions further, legs spreading. “Just say what you wanna say.”

“I mean…” Jay gestures towards Sunghoon's crotch. “I suspected you were big but… that’s crazy, man.”

“It’s not that cra—”

“Yes it is! You’ve got a fucking gas storage tank in your pants and you wanna sit here and tell us it’s not crazy?” Jake says, exasperated by that point. “And stop playing dumb. It’s big. That’s good. I’m sure the ladies go crazy over it. Or the gentlemen. Or whoever it is you fuck.” He kisses his teeth, muttering under his breath. “Lucky bastard.”

“Jake’s right, Hoon. I don’t know why you're so… negative about it. It's a good thing."

“I wouldn’t know,” Sunghoon mutters under breath, more to himself than to the guys, but it’s still loud enough for them to catch it.

“Oh? Then whenever the time comes, you’ll see how much they’ll love it,” Jay says.

"I'm just worried." Sunghoon tries his best to avoid both sets of eyes staring intently at him. "What… what if I end up hurting someone?"

Jake coos, then moves closer to Sunghoon on the couch, his breath fanning over his ear as he whispers, “Always so concerned about other people. Aren't you such a cutie pie?”

The boys weren't exactly wrong, but with big dick come great responsibilities—as Jake said. Yup, roll your eyes at him, not Sunghoon. He's innocent—like having to finger and eat out your partners for what feels like an eternity before even trying to push the tip in, which is not exactly the best situation to be in as a virgin. Current Sunghoon thinks that's the best part, but it took a while to get here.

Sunghoon has always been a very patient man though, a gentle giant in every sense of the phrase. The last thing he would ever want to do is inflict pain accidentally on another human being.

When he got his first actual girlfriend, he'd been so nervous and honestly quite scared to have sex with her. So he got on Google whenever he had free time to study ways to make it as comfortable as possible, watching all kinds of video explanations or reading through feminine pleasure blogs written by women for women specifically, because that's where Jay told him the good stuff was at.

By the time he got to actually have sex with her, his mind was so overwhelmed by all this information that he essentially forgot how to even think. It was anything but romantic, so deeply embarrassing Sunghoon still cringes even after all this time when his mind betrays him and reminds him of it while trying to fall asleep at night.

And then, to add insult to injury, his girlfriend cheated on him and left him for this guy she'd only just met, because 'it might not be as big, but at least he knows how to use it'.

Heartbroken and with an hurt ego, Sunghoon did that thing all boys do when their first relationship doesn't work out: hit the gym and promise themselves they're never gonna fall in love ever again.

That second part ended up failing, because from the moment you showed up at his doorstep to visit (your now ex boyfriend, but a beloved friend nonetheless) Jay and Jake, five different bags around you, with eyes as big as saucers and staring at him like he had invaded his own apartment, all the feelings younger Sunghoon had for you hit him like a brick to his nape all over again.

You two dating came as a shock to everyone around you, mostly because while you were aware of Park Sunghoon's existence and vice versa, you'd never given it too much thought. You remembered him as the scrawny kid with the cute moles from math that you used to always catch staring. He was often around Jungwon because they were neighbors, but was way too shy to even say hi to you. That, and he was also always around Jake—who you were not exactly fond of, given his reputation—so you steered clear of him when you could manage to.

Then, when the third year of high school started, you stopped seeing him around, and Jungwon told you he had moved away to follow his dad's business. You wouldn't admit it at the time but the hallways seemed duller than usual for a few days, but that probably was also due to Jake not being as loud and energetic with his best friend gone.

Last year of high school, you went on a few dates with Jay from history class, and while he was the closest you have ever thought a man to be perfect, you both agreed you worked better as friends than anything more. Usually that means 'you're cool but I'm gonna try my best to not have to say hi to you if I see you around', but Jay is so wonderful, you actually kept in touch and became quite close, even if platonically.

By the time the year ended, you had a very tight group of friends consisting of yourself, Jungwon, Jay, and even Jake—who, for the record, isn't nearly as bad as all the crazy rumors make him out to be. It saddened you that it took so long to find your group, but you were grateful you had one nonetheless, a lot of people never get that luxury, so you weren't about to let a little graduation get in between you all. You spent a good five days consoling Jake that no, no one was going anywhere and yes, you will all be best friends for life.

But then college started, and it became difficult to stay in touch because Jay and Jake had to move. Jake reassured you that you and Jungwon would be more than welcome to visit and stay over at their apartment—which you found funny because that is technically not Jake's apartment at all, at least not until Hoon moved in too and the three of them started sharing the costs, but he has a way of making every place he steps foot in his, like he's meant to be there, so Jay let it slide.

So the first thing you did when you finally had some free time was getting on the cheapest flight available to go visit your friends. Heavy luggage in hand and stained sweatpants on, you were dumbfounded when the one who opened the door for you was none other than Park Sunghoon, and not Jay like you expected.

He was no longer the shy kid you remembered him to be, and he had grown nicely into his features, his hair now a jet back instead of the brown you were accustomed to see. Over those two weeks you realized that while you have know Sunghoon all your life, you had never really seen him, and it made you want to go back in time and hand a little paper note to the shy boy always staring at you during class.

Your head sinks further into your pillow with a whine, the case enveloping it sporting gray spots of wetness, where your tears and drool had accumulated over the last torturous half an hour Sunghoon spent fucking you open with his fingers. You don't know what he means, because you feel like you could take his entire fist by now, that's how wet you are. If your pillowcase is such a mess, you don't even wanna think about what your bed sheets look like.

"I can– take you," you protest, breath hitching mid sentence at a particularly deep curl of his fingers inside you.

"Yeah?" Sunghoon quirks an eyebrow at you, moving his thumb to suddenly hover over your clit. It's not a full touch, nor does he really move it from there, but just the expectation of it has your walls involuntary flutter around his digits. A wicked grin overtakes his face, in a way you think it would clash with his prince-like features. But it looks right at home on him, the canines poking out only adding to his devilish charm.

"Then what's this? Gripping me even tighter," he says against your lips again, like he can't pick between kissing you or speaking, like anything he does he needs to do it with your taste on his mouth. He shakes his head, pouting at you before you get the chance to retort. "Squeeze me this tight when I'm inside you, and I'll believe you're trying to push me out, baby."

The press of his length against your thigh doesn't help, and when your eyes roll to the back of your head, half the reason is the new spot he's now reaching making you see stars, the other is your frustration with him. You know he's huge, and you know he cares about your comfort above all, but a little sting as he bottoms out inside you would be a hundred times better than the 'prep' he's subjecting you to. It took so long to even get here, and now he plans on making you wait even more? You have half the idea to push him off of you and get on top of him, take what's yours. If he's not gonna believe you can take him, you might as well just show him.

Of course, that wouldn't work, because Sunghoon is infinitely stronger than you are and the only thing you would accomplish is looking stupid thrashing under him as he keeps you pinned down. Probably with one arm only too, to really get his point across.

"Add another finger then." There's a certain bark in your tone that makes him chuckle. That's all it is: bark and no bite. You can do nothing but demand, and demand, and demand again, but if he's not willing to give it to you, there is close to nothing you can do about it. And it makes Sunghoon's cock twitch against the slick skin of your thighs. He loves knowing he has you at his mercy.

"Woah!" he gasps, and the fake surprise only irritates you further. Or at least that's what you tell yourself, because Sunghoon doesn't miss the way you clench around his fingers whenever he talks to you like this. "Missy, you're so bratty today… where are your manners?"

The retort is ready on your tongue, but the words mold into a surprised hiss when he actually prods your hole with a third digit, feeling around for a way to slowly ease it into you. You fear it won't be as easy as you hoped, but you also don't want to back down now that he's giving in.

"Just put it in." You angle your hips to give Sunghoon easier access.

"Easy there." He leans back on his knees, and you hate how you're so needy. Even when he's still so close, fingers pumping in and out of you at a torturous pace, you crave for every inch of your body to be touched by his, for your breaths to mingle for as long as possible. You wonder how it's possible to miss someone who's right in front of you, but your heart yearns to hear the rhythmic beat of his own against your chest all the same.

You don't get to dwell on it too long, because the sensation of something wet dribbling right where Sunghoon's fingers meet you rips you out of your thoughts.

It takes a few seconds for you to realize what's happening, but when it sinks in, your mouth slowly hangs open in a moan, eyes closed to relish the feeling.

"You like that?" Sunghoon asks, and for once you can't bring yourself to care about the cockiness in his tone. In fact, it's the last thing you could care about—not when his digits are working to spread his spit all over you, and his third finger is slowly making its way inside you right next to the others. It's a tight fit, and Sunghoon can't really move his fingers like he wishes to, but it'll do for now. He can always do it over and over again until you're ready, as long as you keep making those faces for him. "Look at you," he continues. "You were so demanding earlier, now you're falling apart and I'm barely just getting started."

You clench around him hard, body all tensed up as you accommodate the sudden change in thickness.

Sunghoon bends down again when he notices you're not easing up, trailing his way back up your body with pecks, giving you a few on your lips once he reaches your face. "Does it burn, baby?" he asks, the playful edge in his tone from earlier completely gone, smoothed down to the usual soft timbre you love so much. "Do you want me to take it out? I'll make you cum with two fingers, it's okay."

You shake your head. The stretch does burn, but you also want to prove to him that you can take him.

"You sure?" The murmur vibrates against your ear, the sound of his voice close enough to have you arching your back, pushing your stomach against his harder figure. If you had any sort of reservation about continuing, it's totally gone now. His insistence to make you comfortable always ignites pure want in you.

You nod, but your eyes are still screwed shut because of the burn, so it's not enough for Sunghoon to let go yet.

He slows down his movements, trying to help you out, but the whine you let out is enough to let him know you actually want what he's giving you and more. Still, he needs to hear it. "Use your big girl words, I know you can."

"Wanna keep going."

"Aaand?"

"Please, Hoon." You know you're far gone when you don't even care about how whiny you sound, you would get onto your knees and beg if he asked you to right then. You would want to forget about it right after, but still, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Thankfully, your boyfriend is very nice to you, so 'please and thank you's are enough to keep him satiated, at least for now.

"Good girl."

The praise goes straight to your cunt, further tightening the grip you have on his fingers. Sunghoon is flattered, but that's not what you need in that moment. So he reminds you.

"Take deep breaths, baby. It's only gonna hurt more if you don't ease up."

"Hoon, want more."

"I know baby, I know. But it'll feel better if you stop tensing up. Here, follow my breaths and let go." He kisses both of your shut eyelids. "Eyes on me, pretty. Okay?"

You obey him like it's second nature, but when you open your eyes and you're met with the downright angelic sight of your boyfriend, black strands of hair framing his face and his chain dangling slightly from his neck, you don't understand how you're supposed to calm down. He starts taking deep breaths, ones you try your best to mirror. And despite what you thought, the focus on your chest rising and falling and the warmth in Sunghoon's eyes does make the stretch a lot better. You were enjoying yourself before too, all things considered. Now it's different, you're struggling to keep your sounds in, and any other time you would be mortified by how much wetness is seeping out of your cunt, but Sunghoon's presence is relaxing in a way no one else's has ever been for you.

The more you explore each other's bodies, the more you start to think that maybe, just maybe, there is not a single thing you could do with Sunghoon that you would ever regret. The safety of a judgment free zone with someone who obviously cares deeply for you makes the experience so much better than you could have ever imagined. What other people did to you, no matter how pleasurable, just didn't measure up to what Sunghoon does with you. And you haven't even gone all the way in.

"Theeere we go, see how much better it feels when you're not being a brat?"

Sunghoon is careful with you, watching your every reaction and studying your expressions so he can learn exactly what makes crumble and what brings you closer to the edge, what makes you forget you have to breathe and when to pause so he can drag your pleasure out for as long as he wants, for as long as you can handle. His cock is rock hard, casually rutting against you from time to time. You have half a mind to reach into his boxers and help him out, but you're not sure you could do a good enough job at it, not when he's starting to bend the tips of his fingers to reach right where you need him.

You can feel yourself getting closer, so you grab his wrists—whether to stop him or push him further, you don't know yourself. What you do know, is that just fingers have never felt this good before, and if you had the choice to feel like this forever, you would take it.

The sudden grip doesn't deter Sunghoon, it encourages him instead. His movements are faster, deeper, but still just as precise. It's like he already knows the ins and outs of what brings you pleasure. "Gonna come all over my hand, baby? I know you're close."

You nod desperately, throat too raw and dry to produce sounds more complex than little whines—which Sunghoon finds adorable, he can't wait to find out what sounds you make when he's splitting you open on his cock. He coos, and that alone almost makes you cum. Almost, because what really does you in is his thumb moving to finally circle your clit, really touch it.

Your body tenses up again when your vision goes a searing white, but Sunghoon's other hand finds your thighs right away to prevent you from caging his hands between your legs. He worked hard to make you cum, so you're not gonna take the sight of your fluttering pussy away from him, not when he has rightfully earned it.

"You did so well," he says, his hand caressing the skin of your inner thigh as a reminder to relax your muscles, his thumb slowing down its movement on your clit as your walls flutter around his digits at longer intervals each time.

You eventually even out your breathing, your vision still a little fuzzy, but you feel lighter and content. Once Sunghoon is sure you're okay, he pulls you in for a sweet kiss, like he wasn't just rearranging your guts with his fingers alone moments ago.

"Perfect, you're so perfect," he whispers between kisses, landing a wet smack on your nose when you scrunch it in response. "You're always gorgeous but this—fuck, you're beautiful." He keeps kissing you, each kiss waking up a different butterfly in your stomach. You feel giddy like you haven't ever since you were a kid running through the meadow on a spring evening. You giggle when he reaches the valley of your breasts, and run your fingertips through his hair, his head resting on your chest.

"I love you," Sunghoon whispers, and for the first time in your life you know those words to be true, no hidden intention behind them, no cruel joke waiting for you at the end of the line. It feels right when they're coming out of Sunghoon's mouth.

"I know, I love you t—what are you doing." It's much more of an accusation rather than a question, because you see the little wicked glint in his eyes as he resumes kissing his way down your body—first down your navel, then between your thighs.

"Showing you how much I love you, duh." He spreads your legs as open as he can get them before you start protesting again. "Besides, I haven't gotten a taste yet."

You should stop him, because suddenly you're reminded of how he still hasn't come yet, and you would feel bad to neglect him. The look in his eyes though—needy, almost feral— keeps you pinned right in your spot. "What… about you?"

Sunghoon looks at you, genuinely confused. "What about me?"

"Yeah, I should be… helping you out." You glance down at him, and the wet patch on his boxers makes you clench around nothing. Had you not witnessed first hand how messy Sunghoon can get, you would assume he cummed already. Knowing that's only pre though, makes saliva flood into your mouth at the mere thought of your boyfriend's cock pumping load after load down your throat. Screw 'not hurting' you, you would be happy gagging and choking endlessly around him if it meant you got a tiny little taste.

"Oh baby, but you are helping me out. Just lay back and let me." Sunghoon pops two of his fingers in his mouth, tasting the residues of you high still lingering on his skin, rich and divine on his tongue. "So good, now let me get a real taste."

He trails his wet fingers up your body, relishing in the way you shiver under his touch when he brushes over your nipples. He grabs your face once he reaches it, and forces you to look at him. "Wanting to please me… aren’t you such a generous girl? So, so good for me. So eager to please, you’re so cute.” He doesn't miss how your lip twitches in response to his words, and how your hand slides between your thighs and how they close around it. “But, I'm still not done.”

“But—”

“Shhh,” he silences you right away. He parts your lips with his thumb, and your response to it is immediate, sucking on it without needing to be told what to do. You swirl your tongue around his finger eagerly, as if trying to show him what he is missing by not letting you take his cock out his pants. “See? So perfect for me. Such a pretty and obedient girl, am I right?” 

You nod subconsciously, like he has you under a spell, ready to comply with anything he asks out of you. Maybe he does.

“I know that’s right.” Sunghoon takes the thumb out of your mouth, coating your lips with your own spit as he caresses them with it. “Then do what you’re told and lay back. I can fuck you another time. Now spread those legs for me mkay? Yeah, just like that. So much we can do in the meantime."

"I just don't get why he won't stick it in me."

"You have such a way with words."

You throw a fry at your best friend, only to get more irritated when he catches it midair with his mouth. Jungwon chews it loudly with his mouth open—because he knows it annoys you to death—then washes it down with his coconut milkshake that he won't let you get a sip of because 'using the same straw as me counts as cheating now that you're dating Sunghoon'.

"Okay but why? You're a man. What's the thought process behind this? Tell me."

"Girl, it's your boyfriend. You tell me."

"What if he doesn't fine me att—" A fry hits you right on your forehead, and it's like the impact activates your brain cells, because of course Sunghoon finds you attractive, that is not the problem.

"Now, let's be honest with ourselves please. None of that shit."

Your back hits the bed with a soft thud, arms spread out as you stare at the very familiar ceiling of your room. A sight you've been taking in quite often recently, while trying to come up with a plan to get Sunghoon to dick you down good.

Jungwon shoves a fist of fries in his mouth, barely chewing before speaking again. "I don't get why it's such a big deal."

You roll onto your side, facing the blonde little gremlin occupying the space next to you. "It's a big deal because— why is your ass on my pillow. Jungwon get—"

He silences you by feeding you a handful of fries from the container on his lap. "You were saying?"

You gulp them down quickly before replying, because you're civilized enough to do so, unlike someone else. "We've done it all, and I know he's scared of hurting me, but I can also tell he's holding back. I'm ready– I've been ready. It's just… whenever I think it's gonna happen he pulls back so suddenly, like he's restraining himself."

"Mhh… you've talked to him about this, right?" Jungwon looks at you in a way that feels entirely too judgmental, like skipping the communication part is something you do often enough for it to be a pattern. Something he needs to check off of a list before he gives you more advice.

He's not completely wrong. As in, at one point in your life you had made an habit out of assuming people's thoughts and intentions, but that is in the past. And those people are not your Park Sunghoon.

The polaroids messily scattered on the wall above your desk, like someone had dropped them and they'd defied gravity to stay there, glimmer as the sun starts its golden descent into the horizon. Old, more ruined around the edges ones you took right after Jungwon got you a polaroid camera with his very first salary from working at an ice cream shop over the summer. Pictures of sunsets and dumb words carved into sandy beaches, of thumbs digging into teenager Jungwon's dimples. Newer, glossier ones that you took when Sunghoon gifted you a new camera, after the one Jungwon got you finally broke down after years. You'd cried so hard that day, because it had felt like growing up.

The charger is still hidden under all the mess of receipts in your comforter's drawer, you still hope one day the pink sticker covered camera will turn on if you charge it long enough.

But some things are meant to stay in the past, and better ones are always hiding behind the corner, ready to come your way.

You aren't the young girl with the pink polaroid camera anymore, just like you're not the girl that is scared to voice her thoughts and troubles any longer.

"Of course I have."

"And?"

"Won, he just tells me I need more prep. I've had plenty of that, trust me. Like, he's spent the last month using this toy on—"

"Okay, okay I get it. I trust you, spare me the details."

"—Point is, I'm more than ready. I know it's gonna be uncomfortable and a bit painful at first, he's like… so huge it's—"

"I get it."

"—but that's a given with how big he is. I think it's just… him being nervous, really."

"Have you… tried to, uhm. Take charge? Maybe you calling the shots would make it easier for him to let loose." Jungwon looks down on his lap as he plays with the rings adorning his fingers. You wouldn't say he has ever been particularly shy per se, not when it comes to discussing your sexual life, even in heavy detail. He was the boy your mother made you take a bath with after a whole day of rolling around in dirt as a kid, because his wasn't around a lot of the time. The same boy who has seen you toothless and with horrible haircuts, who has seen all your embarrassing phases. Talking to Jungwon was much more akin to talking to yourself rather than venting to a diary, because he stored secrets in his heart that you would never be comfortable writing down on paper. Except he also calls you a dumbass when he needs to.

It's been a little different ever since you started dating Sunghoon freshly out of college, but you imagine it can't be helped since Jungwon is also very close to him.

You take a deep breath, shoulders slumping with the motion. Yeah, like that would ever work. "He doesn't give up dominance ever, really. I have tried a few times but…" you trail off, thoughts suddenly plagued with images of Sunghoon putting you back in your place instantly whenever you tried to take charge. You have already given it some thought, a lot of thought, actually. What wouldn't you do to have Sunghoon under you and at your mercy, so responsive to every touch, perhaps even tied down. Yeah, you're gonna have to bring it up more seriously to him, maybe then he would let you—

"Are you seriously fantasizing about dominating your boyfriend right in front of my cheddar fries?"

But you're gonna continue that thought another time.

"Let's see then…" Jungwon continues, evidently determined to find a solution to your problem. "Maybe act out? Would that work? Mhhh… I don't know, you're already very annoying day to day and he puts up with that…so."

Jungwon genuinely looks like he is putting so much thought into it, somehow it makes it more offensive.

"Yeah. And who grew up next to him? You. Exactly. You trained his patience, if anything," you retort, but Jungwon doesn't even give you the satisfaction of acknowledging it, because you both know that you do love to be a nuisance to your boyfriend whenever you get the chance.

"Wait." Jungwon perks up after a seconds of deep thought, making the plushies on your bed fall on the floor, but the situation is so dire that you don't scold him. Instead, you cast a hopeful glance in his direction. Please let his brain cells work for once in his life.

"Isn't Hoon like, terribly jealous every time someone brings up that time you and Jay dated in high school?"

The cogs in your brain turn, and if someone was to walk into the room at that moment they would be able to smell the fumes coming out of your and Jungwon's head.

Jungwon continues, though he doesn't need to, because you have caught what he is hinting to already. "You need him to snap? What better reason to if not some good ol' jealousy. Am I right?"

But of course he is, that little gremlin genius.

"And, it just happens that a few high school acquaintances are organizing a get together soon. You know people will bring up you and Jay, just drag Hoon along. It's fate."

"Have I ever told you that you're my bestest friend ever and that I owe you my life, Won?"

Your plan is not working out as expected.

Getting everyone on board took you and Jungwon some time, but they all eventually agreed to come along. Sunghoon himself was the one with the most reservations, since he moved away halfway through high school and he missed a good chunk of it. Most importantly, he missed how you and the others became friends in the first place, so he's always been a little bitter about it.

Calling it a plan was an overstatement. You wore a skimpy little outfit, black miniskirt and sheer thighs, and bet on someone bringing up how you and Jay used to date in front of Sunghoon. You hoped that would make him jealous enough to grab you and drag you home, maybe teach you a lesson that you would inevitably learn nothing from.

Instead, you get sulky Sunghoon with a beer in his hand, looking at you like a kicked puppy as you and Jay make conversation with your old acquaintances. It doesn't help that Jungwon refuses to pick up his phone so you two can come up with something quick to stir the night towards your desired outcome.

The call goes into voicemail again, and you sigh for the hundredth time that night as you end it and open up his chat to type in another text.

"No answer yet?" Jay asks, smoothing his pink dress shirt. He's always the classier looking guy in the room, no matter where he goes, but the hue of pink he chose for the night makes him stand out further in the sea of swarming bodies.

You shake your head. You're in a quieter corner, away from the thumping speakers, but your throat is sore after all the screaming you did over the deafening music. You thought you would get used to the volume when a few of the people at the reunion suggested moving to a club across the street to end the night with a bang, just like the old times, but it somehow got progressively worse instead.

From your side, Jake puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles to catch someone's attention, and when it doesn't work, Jay laughs at him.

"Sunghoon looks bored, I think we should call it a night," Jay says.

"Bored? He looks like he's gonna murder the next poor soul that steps too close to Y\N," Jake takes a swing of the drink he's holding, something that looks like aged whiskey. Very much unlike anything Jake would order. He hisses after the liquid burns his throat, even when diluted by the melted ice. "Jay, my man, your taste is so ass."

You give the interaction a half hearted laugh. Despite your original plan, you hate seeing Sunghoon so uncomfortable, especially when you know he only came along to make you happy. He insists he doesn't belong surrounded by people who pretend to remember who he is and keep bringing up stuff that happened in the past expecting a glint of recognition from him. You tell him there are multiple people with a similar experience to his even when they attended all years, you tell him he belongs anywhere as long as you and the other guys are there. He tells you those are the people that don't get invited to these sort of events.

"It's getting late anyway, maybe we should just go," you say, checking your notification bar for any sign of life from Jungwon. Still nothing.

"I'll go get Won." Jake throws back the remaining drink, scrunching his eyes and hissing at the bitter taste he still isn't accustomed to.

You take a second to scan your surroundings, and the swaying mass of sweaty bodies makes you nauseous. You used to love getting rocked back and forth by the music, uncaring for a single thing in the world if not the overwhelming love you felt for everyone and everything around you when alcohol buzzed through your system. When you were younger, it felt like ibuprofen for your soul. Now, it only amplifies the hurt in your chest when you think about how heavy this night must have been for your boyfriend.

Before you can make your way to him, someone grabs your attention.

"Jay! And you over there, it's been a while."

You instinctively turn towards the loud voice, finding a vaguely familiar face cockily grinning in your direction.

"She has a name." Jay takes a deep breath and gives you a look, his jaw tense, and that alone is enough to let you know right away the guy in front of you is nothing but trouble.

The guy continues as if you weren't even there to listen to the conversation. A ghost. "Doesn't matter, being your girlfriend is all she was known for back then." He takes a swing of his beer, taste as bitter as his voice. He's very obviously drunk out of his mind, words slurring and step unsteady, but his words annoy you anyway.

"Excuse m—" you try to interject, but he speaks right over you.

"You two back together?"

Jay looks like he's seconds away from punching him, but you simply shake your head no. "Oh! No, and I'm not single actually. My boyfriend's here—" you turn around to look for Sunghoon where you last saw him, and beam when you find him right as he walks up to you. His shoulders relax just the tiniest bit when he notices how relieved you look when you meet his gaze, the way you reserve that look to him only, the way you light up as soon as you spot him. "There he is! Perfect timing, baby."

Sunghoon slides a hand around your waist possessively, placing a soft kiss to your temple to really get the point across. "I was looking for you."

Truth is, he wasn't. He had his eyes on you the entire time, but you were playing with your rings and kept readjusting your clothes as the conversation was unfolding, and Jay looked uneasy too, so he figured nothing good was being said.

"Yeah, sorry! Just catching up with friends from back in the day. Y'know, reminiscing and stuff. Have you seen Won around?" You want to diffuse the situation before the idiot in front of you says anything he might regret. You want Hoon to be a little jealous, not for him to get you all kicked out of a party because someone decided to run their mouth a little too much. Your hand finds his exposed biceps, and it looks like he made the right choice by stepping in, because now that he is all up in your space, you're visibly more comfortable.

Sunghoon shakes his head. Last time he caught a sight of Jungwon in the crowded space was when the night had barely started, and he wore a cowboy hat as he shoved his tongue down some girl's throat. Good for him. "He's probably… catching up with acquaintances too."

You look like you are about to say something, but the nameless guy interrupts you before you get a single word out. It gives Sunghoon all the more reason to dislike him, even before he listens to what he has to says. "And you are? I don't recall seeing you around."

"Oh! Hoon just moved to a different school halfway through high school, but we're all friends," Jay replies instead, familiar with his best friend's feelings about his high school years.

"Then why is he here?"

Sunghoon's jaw clenches. You squeeze his arm as if to remind him you are next to him, and he melts instantly into your touch.

"I'm here because my girl and my friends are. Now if you'd be so kind, we are trying to have a nice night, and you're interfering with that." Sunghoon turns around, holding you against his chest as he starts to make his way to the bar to grab another beer.

"Yeah? You know your friend and your girl used to fuck? Maybe they still do."

Sunghoon was raised to be a patient man. One that counts to ten before reacting, a man who wouldn't even hurt a fly. So it must be the alcohol fueling his actions, because before he realizes what he is doing, he grabs the guy by his shirt, knuckles white as a ghost making the material wrinkle in his hold. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Sunghoon knows he is being provoked, but not even Jay trying to step between them can do anything to calm his anger, not when the poor bastard spits on his shirt, then says something that he really shouldn't have.

"I mean look at her." The man laughs, and it's bitter, filled with something more sinister than mere disgust. It's envy. "Are you surprised? She's dressed like a whore."

Sunghoon moves before you have the time to grab him, right fist colliding with so much force against the man's face, his lip breaks on contact. He wobbles a bit, hit taking him by surprise, but he just gathers the blood dripping inside his mouth and spits it by Sunghoon's feet.

"Hey! Hey." Jay grabs the guy's arm, roughly yanking him back as a crowd of people starts to notice the commotion, heading to take a look at what's happening, a few bodyguards included.

"So tough," the man starts a laughs interrupted by winching when his broken lip curls too much. "Take that out on your so called friend—"

Your voice drowns out the rest of the sentence. "Baby, please."

Sunghoon looks at you, and for a second you doubt he sees you. There's so much anger in his eyes, like he wants nothing more than to rip the little bitch in front of him to pieces. They're almost unfamiliar in a way that send shivers down your spine. You hate the fact that you can't tell if it's fear or lust. But the storm behind his gaze clears out for a second when he sees the alarm on your pretty face, just the one you need. "I wanna go home."

No matter the anger coursing through Sunghoon's bloodstream like venom, thick black poison inciting him to turn back and finish the job, his conscience always prioritizes your well being and what you want. So when you take his hand a make a beeline for the exit, he follows without a single complaint.

The car ride back home is uncomfortably silent.

Sunghoon doesn't hum the random tune playing on the radio like he usually does, he doesn't hold your thigh nor does he even spare you a glance, and you start worrying he might be mad at you.

The words said about you earlier sting, but they don't hold a candle next to Sunghoon's silence. You want to speak up, fill the void that is so uncharacteristically awkward, but the words die in your throat the second you try to push them out.

A ding! followed by your phone screen lighting up signals a new notification, and you swipe through your phone to find out if Jungwon has finally made his existence known.

It's a text from Jay. You notice how Sunghoon's eyes dart to your phone for a split second before going back to focusing on the road ahead, his jaw twitching under the street lights.

00:27 AM. Jongie <3: You guys made it home yet?

00:28 AM. you: not yet, you? did you find the others?

Last thing you heard as you dragged Sunghoon out of the club was Jay arguing with both the still nameless guy and two bodyguards who had been notified of commotion next to the bar. Your main goal was to get your boyfriend the hell out of there before he broke someone's face in, but now that you're away from the mess and the dizziness from the alcohol has started to die down, leaving your muscles and bones tired, you worry for your friends too.

00:29 AM. Jongie <3: Heading back now, Jake texted me he found Won.