Schatz's silly

Your moans were loud and full of pleasure. You called out his name, called out, “Oh, god!” and, “Please, harder!”

The image of you, naked and falling apart from the pleasure he gave you, bouncing on top of his throbbing cock, almost made him cum right then and there.

Thrusts of his hips, up into you, caused you delight, your screams only getting louder and more desperate.

You were so close. He could tell. 

And so was he.

He went faster, harder, with more vigor. Until finally, that last high-pitched, loud and satisfied sigh rushed out of your lungs. He knew you so well, he could tell just from that, that you’d just cum.

You rode out your orgasm, calling out, “Baek-Jeong!”

You’d done such a job well done, moaning so prettily, that he eagerly wanted to reward you with his load.

Three quick strokes up and down were all it took for him to shudder hard, and he came – into his hands.

With a quiet groan, Tae-Geom leaned back into his headboard.

He reached to his bedside table to grab a tissue, wiped his hand and his dick clean from his cum and, after crumbling it up into a ball, he threw it into the bin.

On the other side of the wall, after you came so loudly, there wasn’t much noise to be heard anymore. 

Tae-Geom could only imagine what was happening. Baek-Jeong probably didn’t even help you clean his semen up, put his underwear back on and left your hotel room to sleep in his own bed. Which made you lay in your bed all alone, weak after the sex, but still needing to wash up on your own before heading to sleep as well.

How Tae-Geom wished he could be on the other side of that wall. If he were with you, he’d praise you for doing so good, being so sexy. Afterwards, he’d bring you a washcloth, or even carry you into the bathroom to wash up together in the shower.

There, he could caress your curves one more time, lather your skin with soap and leisurely kiss you underneath the warm shower rain.

When you would be all cleaned up, he would carry you back to bed, which sheets he’d have changed while you were putting clothes on in the bathroom. Together with you, he would hide under the covers and whisper sweet nothings to you.

He yearned to place kisses on your skin, rinse his fingers through your hair and look into your eyes before sleep took him.

In the morning, your face would be the first thing he sees, and he’d reach his hand out to pull you back into him. He would kiss you deeply, regardless of your fear of having bad breath after sleeping.

If Tae-Geom’s life had a soundtrack, this is where the vinyl stop sound effect would interrupt his imagination to roughly bring him back to his reality.

He groaned, lifted his hand to drop it onto his face and rub it down across it.

He woke up alone in his own room, just as he always did. Because you weren’t his to love, fuck, caress or care for.

You were Baek-Jeong’s girl.

Untouchable. If he even dared as much as to touch you without permission, he’d lose his hand – at the least.

Tae-Geom slowly sat up in bed and started getting ready for the day.

in the other hotel room, he could hear your hair dryer faintly, indicating that you were also getting ready.

In his delusions, he liked to pretend that the two of you were sharing a routine in the mornings. If you were in his bathroom drying and styling your hair, he would walk around the corner and see you there.

Instead, reality hit once again, that you weren’t here with him, when he walked into his empty bathroom.

He hopped in the shower and let the ice cold water spray directly in his face, to make his head quiet down from these images.

About half an hour later, he was dressed and ready to go.

Tae-Geom opened his room’s door and – just like every morning – he peered into your room’s direction.

On time, just as always, your door flew open and your beautiful face looked his way. You smiled widely at him, like you always did, and waved him hello.

“Morning, Geom!” You chimed, using the nickname you gave him not long after you met him for the first time, after Baek-Jeong started bringing you to his fights.

Back then, Baek-Jeong was still a little nicer to you, though definitely not nice like how any normal person would be. Just, Baek-Jeong-Nice. Like, the level of niceness that he was able to reach before hurling in your face. The Boxer really wasn’t able to be a decent human being at all.

But maybe that was his appeal to you, since you were still with him. Tae-Geom would never understand you, in regards to that.

A beautiful young woman, so full of life and joy. You had so much love to give. And you wasted it all on such an asshole.

His thoughts caused a frown to form on his face. In result, Tae-Geom couldn’t get himself to greet you normally. A curt nod to acknowledge you was all he managed, before making his way to Baek-Jeong's penthouse one floor above the one you and Tae-Geom lived on.

Unfortunately – or fortunately? – the two of you almost always had the same schedule, so you also made your way up there.

In the elevator, you turned your whole body to Tae-Geom.

Oh how he would like to turn to you as well, grab your face in his hands, kiss you deeply and pin you against the mirrored walls.

You’d moan into his mouth, grab at his shoulders, while he’d lift one of your legs up. This would cause your skirt to ride up, reveal your underwear to him and allow for a much closer contact from his bulge to your groin.

He’d press himself against you, tell you, “I want you so bad.”

You’d be so eager for him to take you then and there, that you would press the stop button for more time in the elevator.

With urgency Tae-Geom would push your panties to the side, lay his fingers onto your pussylips to spread them for him, rub you roughly to make you wet and ready to take him.

“Geom, please just hurry up and put it in”, your whine would stir his cock in his pants. 

Zipper undone, his pants dropped to the floor and he’d bury his whole length in your hole. Vigorously, his hips pushed into yours, you held onto the metal railing of the elevator and  threw your head back.

Your newly revealed neck was free real estate for his kisses, bites, his tongue gliding over your skin. He’d suck it into his teeth, marking you as his.

It wouldn’t take long for him to cum inside you. And with his dick still in, he’d rub your clit to make your pussy walls clasp around him when you finally come undone.

When he’d pull out his cock, you’d whine at the loss of his girth and the feeling of his cum slowly dribbling out of your hole and gliding towards your upper thighs. Before it’d reach there, Tae-Geom would slip your panties back into place and place his whole hand over you, to engulf your pussy in his palm.

“Keep me in there. I want you to reek of me in front of everyone. They all should know who you belong to”, Tae-Geom would say to you without breaking eye contact.

Eager to be good, you’d nod at him and squeeze your thighs with his hand still between them. Before pressing the button to start the elevator back up, he would pull his hand back, help you adjust your skirt and hair back to normal and turn back to the doors in front of him.

“–love to meet her again, I had so much fun.” Your voice tuned back into his realm, when his daydream faded from his head.

He turned his head to you, you seemed excited about the topic he clearly missed out on. But the context clues in your last sentence, that he thankfully heard again, got him back up to speed. 

You asked him about meeting Min-A, his daughter, again. Due to a fight that was organized near where she lived with his mother, Baek-Jeong allowed Tae-Geom a quick visit to his family.

When you heard about that, you begged to come along, to meet Min-A.

There, you played with his daughter. He watched this with a sunken stomach. The picture of his daughter, giggling so happily with the woman he yearned for, didn’t fill him with happiness – he was full of sorrow.

Because it’d never be real. His daughter would never call you her mother, she’d always know you as the girlfriend of her father’s boss.

But a sick part of himself still enjoyed seeing you put so much effort into making Min-A smile.

“Ah…”, he stalled. “Sure, if we’re ever around again.” He cleared his throat with a rasp. “I’ll take you with me.”

His words made you smile widely and clap into your hands excitedly once with a small bounce in the air.

So cute.

After his daydream, Tae-Geom couldn’t focus much on any of the conversations that happened around him throughout the day.

All he could think of was you. The way you smelled, laughed, your voice when you talked to him.

Your moans.

He’d die to just once hear you moan his name, instead of Baek-Jeong’s.

Back in his room, late at night, he heard a knock on your door. He knew who it was before he heard your happy voice announce it. Because it was the same every night.

Baek-Jeong’s deeper register couldn’t be heard as well as your sweeter voice. But Tae-Geom didn’t need to hear anything, to know what’s going to happen.

It didn’t take long before your bed creaked with the weight of two bodies laying down, and slowly, your moans picked up in volume again.

Tae-Geom sighed as his dick twitched with arousal at the sound of you.

He’d love to have you in between his thighs, opening his zipper with your teeth, as you wiggle your ass in the air behind you.

Your sweet face drowsy with arousal as you lick along his shaft and take his dick into your mouth.

Tae-Geom lifted his hand and placed it onto the back of your head, grabbing your hair close to your scalp, to push you down and hear you choke on his cock.

Your drool would run down onto his balls, brimming full with cum, which he wanted to unload all onto your face, your tits, ass, stomach, all across your well-fucked pussy – inside you.

He’d pull you up, fully off of his cock, to see your face. Tears running down across your cheeks, drool hanging off your chin. The image is slutty, and he’d tell you how good you were at sucking him dry.

Before waiting for your answer, he’d push you back down. You’d lick across his tip before he pressed your face all the way down against his stomach, tip reaching into your throat. Again and again, he’d move your head for you. Once or twice, he’d hold you down, just until your throat squeezed around his cock and you gagged around it.

The wet noises, your slurping and the sound of you repeatedly moaning with his whole cock in your mouth made him groan and moan as well – he couldn’t wait to pump his cum onto your face.

As Tae-Geom pushed out a guttural groan, his hand continued to move up and down quickly.

For a second, his mind slips out of the imagined reality and he squeezed his dick in his own hand to simulate what your throat closing around it would feel like.

It only needed another tug and a thumb swirling across his tip, before his cum sprayed out with a shaky moan from his lips.

Tae-Geom rubbed up and down slowly, to ride out his high and spritz out all his cum while he listened to you, also just finished, moaning senselessly loud.

On the next day, Tae-Geom leaves his room and just like always, you do so at the same time. He turned his head to see you smile, just like every day.

“Geom! G’Morning!”

This was his own, personal, hell.

“Well, it took some time to get the brakes installed…”, he hesitates, looking around the garage, before his eyes settle back onto you. “Since it’s you, and you’ve been coming here for years now, I’ll give ya a special deal. 130.000 Won.”

You roll your eyes. Special deal, my ass. The shop around the corner wouldn’t take more than 70.000 ₩. But admittedly, they also wouldn’t have gotten it done within three days, and you need your bike to get around. With a heavy sigh, you count the amount from the bundle of cash in your hands and slap it onto Taejoo’s already expecting grubby palm.

He smiles ear to ear and stuffs it into his backpocket. 

“Pleasure doing business with ya!” He chimes, making you scoff. No use complaining, since you have your bike back and in pristine condition.

Almost like someone was waiting for you to be able to work again, your phone rang with a certain notification, which you were all too familiar with. You pull your phone out of the pocket in your leather jacket and open the messaging app.

MANJI Need someone to work tonight. Details upon arrival – 200.000 ₩ upfront, another 200.000 ₩ after completion.

You watch as messages flood the chat, offering up their service. You join in, just a short text “I’m in.” – With such a high salary, it’s gotta be an important job, and you couldn’t let the opportunity slip by to earn back what Taejoo just ripped out of your pocket.

Almost immediately, Manji checkmarked only your message, the signal of confirmation on who got the job. Right after, in your private chat, he sent you an address. You smirk. 

“Taejoo, I’m off. A job just came up!” You call out into the garage, the mechanic not in sight, but he oughta be around there somewhere, since he called back a quick goodbye from a hidden corner. 

You sling your leg across the motorcycle’s seat and get your helmet situated on your head. Gloves on, engine roaring up as you turn the key. You push the stand up and roll back the accelerator to speed off, out of the garage’s driveway and onto the streets of Seoul.

Your bike’s engine is purring as you slowly pull into a parking spot next to the very familiar black van. With your helmet still on and visor down, you look to your side and into the car window. Inside, on the driver's seat, you see Lee Man-Bae – who you also know as Manji. 

His alias is famous across the underground world of the city and his reach goes far beyond that. He’s a right-hand man to someone – who that might be, he never disclosed to you. After all, everything you do has to be handled with top secrecy. Which is why you don’t know much about the man.

He opens his door and steps around the front of his car to stand before your bike.

“Good to see you again, Dahlia.” His voice is held down to avoid any outsider's attention on your conversation. The usage of your online-username in the group chat sends a shiver down your spine. 

You were a big fan of true crime – when setting up your account, you took inspiration from the unsolved mystery surrounding the ‘black dahlia’.

“I hope you’re prepared?” He asks, and you only nod in response. “Good.” He adjusts his stance, “I need you to take a man down. I’ll send you his picture–” he looks down at his phone and taps two, three, times. 

The notification on your phone goes off and when you unlock it, you see a man’s face.

The picture was almost like a passport photo. He looked straight at you, or, well, the camera that captured his photo. But his eyes seemed to stare through the screen right at you.

You flip up your visor, to look into Man-Bae’s face. “He’s the guy?” Man-Bae nods to confirm. “So…he has to live?” 

The man nods again.

“It’s of utmost importance that he stays alive until we get the answers we need from him. Only incapacitate him. This is why I picked you for the job”, Man-Bae reaches his hand out to the key on your motorcycle and turns the engine off. 

He looks up at your eyes, not much else visible to him because of your helmet. “You’re the best bloodhound there is, when it comes to knives. Do what you do best and you’ll get paid well. This job could secure you a position with my boss, if you do it right.”

You clamp up a bit, rub your hands, still inside the gloves, on your thighs. Then you breathe in, out. You hold your breath for as long as it feels natural to your body. 

Then, you nod. “Alright, where do I find him?”

“He’s in this club. Saw him walk in just a moment before you drove up. Full black outfit, he’s got tattoos on his hands. You’ll notice him.” Man-Bae lights up a cigarette while explaining this to you. 

You nod along.

“Get him outside, we’ll pick him up.”

A question got stuck in your throat. We? Who else is here?

But you don’t ask questions. So you take off your helmet, fix up your hair and makeup in the sideview mirror of Man-Bae’s van and strut towards the club’s entrance. 

It’s a staircase down to the door, so as you turn around one last time before really walking in, towards where Man-Bae stood, only your head is visible from his position. You saw the van’s door open, and a big guy hopping out. There were at least two more men in that car, but you pull yourself back to focus on the job at hand.

You turn back to the door, smile at the Bouncer and get let in immediately. Perks of being a beautiful woman.

The loud music blares out of the club’s door into your face and you brazenly step into the lights, sound and the feeling of everyone’s sticky, sweaty skin touching yours, as you squeeze past them to get to the bar.

It does not take long for you to find the man you’re looking for. He flirts with every woman at the bar, and with every rejection he’s coming closer to where you were sitting. 

You decide to order a drink, to look less suspicious, while you were waiting on the right timing to strike.

Eventually, he does round up on you. He circles you from your left to your right side and starts drunkenly breathing his foul breath into your face. Ew.

You don’t have to hold out for long though, as he brings up wanting to leave to a quieter place with you to ‘talk’ pretty quickly. 

“I thought you’d never ask”, you sarcastically bloated out. He took it as excitement on your part and told you to follow him out of the club.

Back outside,he was already three steps up on the staircase, when you think it’s time to start the show. You gasp and look down onto your boot-clad feet. 

“Sorry, I need to tie my shoes, my knot came loose,” you said with a shy giggle. He nodded and very slowly continued walking up the stairs, facing forwards. 

Thank god, you think, as you use the opportunity to grab a small knife from the inside of your boot. It’s small enough to almost entirely hide within your right fist.

When you got up the stairs, he had already been waiting on you. Time for the next move.

“Let’s call a taxi to a hotel, yeah?” You ask him, flopping your left hand onto his chest and dragging it down his upper body. He – of course – eagerly agrees and pulls out his phone. You do an expertly stupid move, that really only works with a drunk person, to get him to drop his phone. 

Immediately, you exclaim “Oh god, so silly of me!” and laugh. He turned a little and squatted down to examine his phone on the ground. Just as he was about to get back up, he screamed in pain.

Because as he squatted down, so did you, and you sliced your knife across the back of his ankles – severing his achilles tendons.

He drops forward with his face in the dirt, crying out in pain and writhing around to look at you. But you already turned away from him, watching as Man-Bae, the really big guy you saw earlier and another tall man walked up towards you with quick steps.

“His phone’s unlocked and his tendons are cut,” you sing-songed when they came close enough. Man-Bae and the really big guy picked your victim up by his arms and legs and shimmied their way to the van.

The tall man bent down to pick up the victim’s phone. After he stuffed it in his pocket, he stood in front of you with a paper bag in hand. “Ah, the remaining amount.” You reach out to grab the paper bag from him, but he pulls it away.

You look at him confused but also quite irritated. Seeing your expression, he breathes out a chuckle.

“Our boss wanted to see you in case you did a good job tonight. Come to this address tomorrow at two pm. He doesn’t like waiting, so be on time.”

He doesn’t even give you the chance to say anything, just pushes the paper bag, including a sticky note with an address written on it, into your hands. He immediately turns around and walks to the van where he pulls open the door to sit down – and off they go.

Usually, on your jobs as a bloodhound, you never meet this many people. Now you’re supposed to meet their boss? Why should you?

Although, Man-Bae did mention that tonight could get you in with his boss…But who even said that’s what you wanted?

In your thoughts, you walk back to your motorcycle, pull the helmet over your head and turn the key over.

“Ugh, what the hell do I know? I need a drink,” you mumble into your helmet while shaking your head.

Ding!

As the elevator doors open they reveal a chic hallway in front of you. You had your helmet in one hand and in your other the sticky note you received from the tall man last night.

You step out of the metal box onto the heavy marble floor. The address is a penthouse, the door to it right ahead.

Before your hand makes contact with the wood to knock on it, the door opens. Stunned, you look up into Man-Bae’s face.

“You’re late.”

You tick your head to the side. It was two pm when you entered the elevator, which took you up to the highest level of the hotel. It couldn’t have taken more than three minutes.

Man-Bae opens the door further into the room, steps aside and signals with a swift hand movement to enter.

That you do, looking around to scan your environment.

“This must be Dahlia…”, a male voice trails off. “Tell me, do you struggle to read the time?” 

Your eyes fly to the clock on the wall in front of you, before you look at the man who spoke to you. He sat on the sofa, legs sprawled out. A glass with – you presume – whisky inside, was held by his left hand. His right hand is in a fist, resting on his temple. Head turned slightly sideways to meet his fist, he looked you up and down.

“My bad”, you say, walking towards the sofas in the middle of the room. 

You lay your helmet on the pillows and walk around the side of the furniture to sit down opposite of the man, who seemed to be the boss Man-Bae spoke of.

He scoffs at your curt apology. Being on time really does matter a lot to him, it seems.

Man-Bae made his way to the sofa to your left, where another man you’ve not come across yet sat. Last night’s tall guy stood behind boss-man. 

"Anyway…besides being late, you’re good. That matters most.” Boss-man dropped his right hand and moved it with his words. “Let’s not complicate this. I’ll hire you, Man-Bae will give you the details–”

“Who said I want to work with you?” Your question interrupts him and his dissatisfaction over this fact was clear on his face.

An eyebrow raised, he counters: “For me. You’ll work for me.” With clear emphasis on the ‘for’. “And don’t interrupt me.”

For a change, Man-Bae speaks up. “Working for the president isn’t something you should be ungrateful for. He’s satisfied with your work from last night and wants you on his side.”

You look at him before asking. “The president? Of what?”

“I run an underground boxing championship.” Boss-man responds. “We always need people like you to take care of troublemakers.”

“And why should I?” You provoke. “What’s in it for me? I earn just fine with what I do now.”

“You’ll earn five times more than any regular bloodhound job will pay.” That got you interested.

You nod your head slowly, contemplating. This seems like easy money, the only downside being that this guy would be your boss. The whole crowd seems odd to you.

You have the boss-man – clearly a narcissist, his attitude pisses you off. He’s got sharp eyes, his hair tied up in a tight bun with the sides shaved to just a few millimeters of length. The way he lounges on his sofa and talks down to you isn’t something you usually tolerate.

Then there’s Man-Bae, who you only fleetingly know. But what you know of him, has always seemed fishy. He said he used to be some kind of officer, didn’t go into detail on where he worked or what exactly he used to do. He’s apparently the right-hand-man to his boss and acts as Manji, who’s famous in the darknet for getting everything done. He uses his bloodhounds, including you, to get the dirty work done.

Tall guy over there just stands like a statue, you could see the handle of a knife on his belt. He seems like he could fight well enough to maybe be a bodyguard – which seems odd, since boss-man looks like he can defend himself just well enough.

The really big man from last night wasn’t anywhere to be seen today.

Last and maybe also least is the complete stranger sitting next to Man-Bae. Green hair, a lip ring and a few piercings on at least the one ear you can see. He’s not been participating in this conversation at all, rather focusing on the laptop resting on his lap.

And anyway, what's with this underground championship business? How much could you really get paid from something that probably doesn’t reach that many people?

“You sure you can afford me?” You finally ask. “I don’t know you or your championship, how am I sposed to trust any of this?”

“Mh, I guess you’re right.” Boss-man nods his head as he straightens up in his seat. “I’m Im Baek-Jeong. Behind me is Tae-geom, this guy is Allen,” he points to the green-haired man. “And well, Man-Bae you already know.”

Baek-Jeong stands now and walks to a bar table to the side, to refill his glass. “I run the ‘IKFC’.” he explained further. “We have about four million members across the world, our earnings are more than enough.”

He turns to look at you before taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t you worry, doll. I’m a man of my word, and I’ll make sure you’ll get paid well for your work.”

You don’t really know what happened back there, but somehow you’re employed by Baek-Jeong now. In a daze, you leave the elevator, back on the ground level again. 

He’s really persuasive, this Baek-Jeong guy. He had Allen show you their website, their earnings from their last published fight, and suddenly you signed a contract.

Personal bloodhound for some president of an illegal boxing championship – you would’ve never guessed this is where you’d be after taking last night’s job.

But here we are.

You remember Baek-Jeong’s words as you got ready to leave his penthouse: “I like to keep my people close, so you’ll move into an apartment downstairs. Man-Bae will text you the details.” 

“I guess I should pack my shit…”, you mumble as the concierge opens the doors for you to leave the hotel building.

You turn around in your bed for the nth time that night.

It’s been three weeks since you moved into the hotel room, not one night went by without trouble falling asleep. Not because it was uncomfortable – the opposite, your room was very nice. A big bed, room service and fancy decor.

Finding sleep is just extremely difficult with your neighbor staying up all night watching movies, playing video games and whatnot.

The wall behind your bed was shared with Allen’s room.

That green haired idiot sleeps almost all day and spends his awake time at night in front of his computer – and you could hear everything.

You always know what game he plays, if he wins or loses the round, which show or movie he watches or what he works on for the IKFC-Website. Alongside the noises from his speakers, you hear his voice, cursing, celebrating, laughing.

Every.little.thing.

Since you’re new, you tried to be the polite neighbor. It’s not your style to bang on walls or go knock on his door to confront him. But it did irk you.

Sometimes, in order to fall asleep, your trusty little friend comes in handy – after all, a good orgasm will send everyone off to dreamland. Other times, earplugs will do.

But tonight, you’re out of earplugs. And just as your me-time was about to be finished, your vibrator’s battery ran out.

You were left high and dry, with open ears. Which is why now, at 3.37 AM, you are so desperate for sleep, that you even switched your position in bed, so your pillow laid, where usually your feet rest. 

Nothing helped, the little sleep you were getting lately made you sloppy at work. You even got in trouble with Baek-Jeong over it.

Thinking about that, you finally got fed up enough to just get up, walk over to Allen’s door and knock repeatedly against the wood.

A moment passed, where nothing happened. For a second, you thought he was ignoring you. But then, inside, something clattered and shortly after, the door opened slowly. LED-Lighting greeted you before anything.

“Are you lost or something? Wrong door.” Allen greets you, quite rudely. 

His face is telling you that he’s dissatisfied with the interruption you brought on. His green hair is ruffled up, standing in all directions. He’s removed most of his piercings, besides the lip ring and the hoops he’s wearing in his lobes. His body’s clad in black sweatpants and a white, a bit loose, blank t-shirt.

You rasp your throat, hand in a fist in front of your mouth, before speaking. “Not lost”, you state. “I can’t sleep, because of you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “How so?”

Unbelievable. As if he wouldn’t notice how loud he’s being every night. When everything else is quiet, barely any cars are out and no hotel staff or guests walk in the halls, every noise is only amplified, so he has to know! Right??

“I can hear everything you curse at in your stupidly loud games, I know basically every movie you’ve watched since I moved here. I get that you’re a night owl – me too!” You pause to adjust your footing. “But you could lower the volume, y’know?”

You’re really trying to speak nicely to him, after all, you didn’t come here for a fight. But the way he looks at you tells you, he took offense to what you were saying.

“You’re one to talk, huh?”

He frowns as he looks you up and down. This is when you realize that you didn’t cover up, before coming to his door. All you were wearing were your very, very, skimpy, frilly pajamas…as in, shorts barely covering your ass, your midriff uncovered and the spaghetti straps of your top hanging loosely off your shoulders.

Plus the pink bunny slippers on your feet. Great…

You pause in your thoughts though. “What do you mean by that? I’m never loud.” Now you’re offended. Is he really trying to shift the blame on you right now?

“I wasn’t gonna say anything to you, since it’s probably really embarrassing”, he starts. His eyes didn’t stay on you, shifting to the side, behind you. “But my stuff’s only this loud to drown out your noises.”

“What noises?” You ask with a rough tone, almost wincing at it yourself.

“Y’know what noises…”, He trails off. When you only look more confused, he steps towards you, close enough for you to feel his breath on your face. He leans into your ear, “Your moans”, he elaborates. “And your vibrator.”

Oh my god.

You can feel your face, your ears, your whole body, warming up. This is so embarrassing. 

You never thought about it, but it makes sense. If you can hear him calling out things in his games, he can hear you calling out moans, too. The connecting wall was thin, after all.

You could die of shame on the spot. Allen stepped away already, obviously amused with your reaction.

“You seemed frustrated earlier.” He smugly states. So he really hears everything. Including you cursing at the battery of your vibrator dying earlier and your frustration at not finishing.

You fumble for words. “Okay, listen”, you start. “I’m sorry for complaining about the noise. I didn’t realize–”

“You sure?” He pipes in. “Sometimes it almost felt like you were provoking me.” There’s a smirk on his face when Allen says this.

“Provoking you?” You exclaim. “How would I provoke you, I’m just–”

“Just felt like you wanted me to hear, is all.” He interrupted you, again. You cannot believe the smugness on his face. 

As if you’d want anyone to hear you jerk off, especially one of Baek-Jeong’s guys. He’s basically your coworker!

“And I mean…”, he points his finger in your direction, moving it up and down. “Now you show up here like this”, he laughs a little. “You want me to finish you off since your battery’s dead?”

Your eyes would fall out of your head, if they could. You stammer around, just shocked at his words. But the way he bites his lip, playing around with the metal ring on his lip, as he obviously looks at your naked thighs, makes you realize he’s totally serious about the offer.

“Let’s just…both mind the thin walls and keep it down in the future.” You rasp your throat again and step to the side, ready to leave and bury your head in your pillow.

As you turn around, your wrist is grabbed, and Allen is behind you. He holds your wrist in his one hand, another pulls your hair away from your neck, gathering it all on one side. His face is close to you again, breath hitting your nape.

“Why’d you squeeze your legs like that when I suggested it, if you’re just gonna play coy now and leave?” Allen’s voice is but a hush, he almost whispers in your ear. 

You swallow, let out a thin breath. You couldn’t believe he noticed that.

“I’ll be really quick, my fingers are fast.” He speaks against your neck. Still holding your wrist, but not tightly, his other hand moves down to your hip and glides down your thigh. “I’m also much better than that vibrator ever could be.”

His big hands on your skin are warm and rough. The way he towers over you from behind, his lips almost touching your neck, the rasp in his voice – all of it’s driving you crazy. 

So crazy, that you’re actually considering it. You shudder.

“How fast?” Is all you come up with. You’re curious. 

He’s been making you curious ever since you saw him on that first day. Allen’s got this mystery around him, never saying much, always glued to a screen. You noticed his fingers moving on a keyboard before and have to admit that your mind wandered to dirty places.

He chuckles. Your question let him know that he’s got you on the hook. With the small confirmation, he moves forward and places his lips on your skin for a short moment. The hand on your thigh squeezes your flesh and the hand on your wrist moves up to your shoulder.

“C’mere ‘n lemme show you.” He utters against your neck. He turns you around to face him and lets his lips clash onto yours. You didn’t have much time to think about it, before muscle memory kicks in, as you reciprocate the kiss.

It’s messy, but that’s how you like it. His tongue didn’t take long to enter your mouth and search for yours to circle it. You let out a small moan into his mouth. There’s heat collecting in your abdomen and you can’t help but let your hands land on his chest and around his neck.

With ease, he moves both of you mid kiss into his room. He removes one of his hands from your body to close the door behind him and places it on your cheek right after. The hand slides backwards to your ear, into your hair, where he softly grabs your roots. You moan again.

Allen moves his head back and chuckles. “Sounds familiar.”

You look at him with annoyance, but he kisses you again before you could counter with anything.

Allen continues to move you in his room. When you feel a mattress on the back of your legs, he leans down against you, to have you sit on the bed.

He stops the kiss again, leaving you with heavy breathing as you look up at him. He still stands in front of you, between your legs. When he straightens up into his full height, he towers over you once again.

“Scoot.” Allen orders almost, nodding his head upwards in the direction of his bed. You listen embarrassingly quickly to his words and move yourself up to his pillows.

He smirks again. That pisses you off, how is he so confident?

Yet again, Allen did get you in his bed. So why not be confident? 

Allen sits down to your right side on the bed, placing his right hand immediately on your thigh to slide it in between your legs. For a second you thought you’d start to feel awkward now, but almost as if he could read your thoughts, he turned your head to him with his other hand.

“I’m gonna touch you now”, he states matter of fact. But before he does, he looks you in the eyes and waits. His hand stays in the same spot on your thigh, just a hair away from your center. You nod, but that isn’t enough for him. “I want you to actually say it.”

“Please.” You whisper. “Touch me.”

He hums, pleased with your response. His head moves in for a kiss, at the same time as his finger presses against your shorts. He presses the entire side of the finger against you, rough enough for you to feel it through the pajamas and your underwear.

You thank the heavens that you wore cute panties – entirely by coincidence – tonight, as you wiggle your hips against his finger. The pressure is nice, but you want more. 

Allen knows this, as he feels your kisses become desperate. He smirks against your lips and decides to move his hand swiftly to slide past the hemline of both your shorts and your panties, onto your skin. He pushes the fabric to the side and presses his thumb almost smack-dab onto your clit.

Surprised at his immediate perfect placement, you moan into his mouth.

He slowly rotates his thumb clockwise on your clit once, then twice. You’re already wet from just his kisses and the way his hands caressed your whole body on the way to the bed.

He feels this and decides to take his index finger and push into the wetness.

“Allen!” You exclaim with a moan. You didn’t expect him to move so quickly, and he chuckles.

“Don’t wanna waste any time.” He speaks against your lips. He places kisses to your cheeks and your neck before he moves his head back a little to look at you.

Allen can feel that you’re already able to take his second finger. You sigh, as he pushes his middle finger in with the index. You move your legs around, one now laying over one of his and the other you let flop to the side. It gave him a slither of a view to your privates, but your pajamas covered most of you still.

This frustrates him, so he suddenly removes all fingers, and his lips, leaving you with a gasp. You look at him confused, but he’s already on the task of sliding down your pants and underwear.

Guess it didn’t matter whether your panties were cute or not, as he didn’t pay them any attention. 

After he threw the clothes to the ground, he readjusts both of you to the way you were and wasted no time in sliding both of his fingers back into you. His thumb expertly moves with pressure against your clit and the sudden wave of pleasure makes you break out in rows of moans. You grasp onto his shoulder as you look up at his face. He was looking up and down between your face and in between your legs.

“Your pussy’s so wet, I bet you were just waiting for this to happen, hm?” He said, voice laced with lust. “I was waiting, too.” His admission surprised you, because you honestly didn’t expect anything to happen between the two of you. 

“Were you–“ you let out a moan mid speaking. “Were you loud on purpose so I…”, you pause when he changed rhythm, “So I’d come to your door?”

All Allen did was laugh, but you figured that was confirmation enough. So he provoked you after all, and he was so sly about it, too. But you can’t be mad about it, because the way he moves his fingers is definitely something you wouldn’t want to miss out on.

You move your hand to the back of his head, grab his hair and pull him into you for another kiss. God, he’s so good at all of what he’s doing to you right now.

His fingers move in synchronicity and you could feel yourself getting close. He was right when he said he’d be better than your vibrator – there was nothing that could compare to this.

“Mh,” he wants to speak, so you let your grip on his hair loose, giving him space to move his head back and to look at you again. “Want you to cum for me right now”, he murmurs before sliding his tongue back into your mouth.

You nod excitedly and repeatedly, signaling to him that you were about to.

He took this as a challenge, didn’t change anything about the rhythm his fingers were plunging in and out of you and moving up to press against the soft tissue inside. He keeps his thumb circling your clit and pressing against it, listening to your muffled moans build up.

When you clenched so tightly around his fingers, he knew you had reached your climax. You nearly screamed, throwing your head back into the pillow and riding your hips against his fingers.

“Oh my god, Allen”, you moan. “Please, oh–”

“Mmh, I know”, he whispers, leaning down to place kisses against your neck. He continued to move his fingers, slowing down the tempo but still letting you ride out your orgasm. “Good girl, just cum on my fingers.”

His dirty talk is definitely hitting the right spot for you. You could just feel tingles in your core and the pressure that built up releasing onto his fingers. His lips were against your skin and he placed his free hand onto your head to pet your hair down. You bet it’s all messy from moving around against him and his pillow.

When your breathing calmed down and you stopped moving your hips, he slowly slid his fingers out of you. You look down, out of instinct, and see him taking his fingers into his mouth. He licked off your cum and hummed lowly in his throat.

“You taste wonderful.”

You feel the warmth in your cheeks again. What the hell is wrong with this guy?

“Let me taste you properly next time.” He smirks. 

“Next time?” You exhale. He’s already planning on a next time while you’re just exhaustedly trying to catch your breath. “But you didn’t cum yet”, you state.

“I’ll jerk off to the mental image of this later.” He says this way too casually.

You almost don’t want to ask, but curiosity gets the better of you. “Did you jerk off to me before?”

He looks you in the eyes and kisses you before answering. “Yeah, of course.” Another kiss. “Everytime I could hear you moaning, all I could do was imagine what you’d look like with my dick inside your pussy.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but turned out to be speechless. How is he so casual about this?

“It’s all I could think of whenever I saw you in meetings too, having you suck my dick while I work, or letting me eat you out on my desk.” He looks towards his desk, as if he’s imagining it right now again. 

“You down for any of that?” This time he looks at you, his eyes peering directly into yours. He’s still got his hands on your head and on your thigh, caressing your skin.

You couldn’t believe what you were saying. “Sounds fun.”

You just wanted to go for a walk, clear your head, look at the stars. That’s why you walked along a field, away from light pollution hiding the sky and noise from the small town you lived in.

When you divorced your ex-husband, you moved outside of the city. Seoul was much too busy, too dangerous. Full of memories of your marriage.

You met him there, during your shift at the bibimbap restaurant you part-timed at.

The owner of the place was indebted to him – to Moon Gwang-Moo. A loan shark of a special kind.

He set rules for himself, for his work ethic. Never wanted to take from the people what they didn’t have, extended loan-periods, shortened interest rates, et cetera.

So him coming by the restaurant wasn’t a threat. Whenever he collected the monthly payment, he also stopped by for lunch.

With this wide smile on his face, rubbing along the stubble on his face, he greeted the owner and put in his order.

Back then, when you served him the bibimbap, all he was to you was a customer of your workplace. But he knew you had a soft spot for him – since you always gave him an extra roll to his order.

Sometimes, when business was slow, he’d invite you to sit with him and talk. That’s how you grew closer.

One night he asked you if he could take you out to dinner sometime, something that’s not rolled in seaweed.

You agreed.

Six years went by quickly, full of joy. Gwang-Moo always managed to put a smile on your face. He said that was his priority – make you laugh just once, every day.

And you did. But with time, laughing became harder. When you saw him come home with bruises on his face, his knuckles ripped open after punching someone, or sometimes even a knife wound somewhere on his body.

It worried you, and it made you realize what you should’ve seen ever since he was just a customer at the restaurant.

He was a loan shark. He was better than most of them, but still in the business of lending people money – and going after it, whenever they didn’t pay it back.

That entails danger, no matter how much of a silly guy he was at home.

Every time you tried to approach the topic, a fight ensued. He never yelled, never would’ve even thought to hit you. But he also never agreed with your wish of him quitting this line of work.

At one point, you made him decide – his job, or his wife.

He couldn’t make the decision. So you made it for him, and slid the divorce papers across the dinner table which you were sitting at.

He signed the paper without looking you in your face just once. He didn’t want to keep you in this situation, he knew that it was dangerous.

Many times you had been threatened, though he always managed to keep you safe, without you even noticing most of the time.

But once or twice, people got the number to your landline and called you while your husband was gone. It scared you just enough to instill a constant fear in you.

Gwang-Moo knew you would eventually be better off without him in your life. Safe.

You thought so too, until today.

Until the cold metal of the knife touched your skin and pressed into your neck, against your jawline.

You shuddered as you thought about how maybe it didn’t matter, whether you would’ve stayed with your husband or not. The danger followed you out here, to the countryside. But he was still in Seoul, nowhere close to notice or help the situation at hand.

Your train of thought was stopped when a hard object made impact with the back of your head and you dropped to the floor, quickly losing vision.

A slow, sad song was playing on the radio. Just a whisper of a noise, almost drowned out by the heavy rain falling outside of the windows.

Gwang-Moo sat down at the dinner table. The very one where you handed him those dreadful papers.

Your name had already been signed back then. Underlining how much you really couldn’t stay anymore.

He still feels guilty. A smile a day, was what he promised you since before he even put a ring on your finger.

He couldn’t keep his promise until the end.

Gwang-Moo sighed heavily, as he grabbed the bottle of scotch that he bought just a few days ago. It was already near empty – devastating proof of how miserable he’d been.

This was his routine, ever since you left him. He’d come home from work to the house you once filled with your laughter. Now it was quiet, it seemed like there was a shadow draped over it.

You were his sun, once. It was a little joke the two of you had. Mr. Moon found his sun. You really lit up his world.

He poured the dark liquor in a glass. As he grabbed it with his hand, the wedding band that still sat on his finger clinked against it. He raised his drink in the air, to a picture of you.

He had it framed right after your wedding – you, in your beautiful white dress, laughing heartily at one of his jokes.

Gwang-Moo thought back to that day in fondness.

Back then, the two of you agreed that he wouldn’t see you the night before the wedding. So he rented a hotel room, where he laid in the bed and stared at the ceiling, because he couldn’t sleep without you next to him.

You called him that night, close to tears. Because you missed him so much, you regretted agreeing to stay separate tonight. Without much thought he immediately drove back home to you.

“Fuck traditions”, he said as he took you in his arms and kissed your temple.

The morning of your wedding, the two of you got ready together. He was the first to see you in your wedding dress. The sight made him speechless. It was a beautiful moment, shared just between the two of you.

The ceremony was wonderful, the vows made everyone shed a tear and he’ll never forget how happy he was when he heard you say “I do”.

Whenever Gwang-Moo thought of that day, it was like his world warmed up again. 

The memory slipped away from his mind and he returned to his cold reality.

He regretted not doing everything to make you stay. Leaving this line of work behind should’ve been a no-brainer. It was a mistake he’d carry with him his whole life.

Just as Gwang-Moo settled the rim of the glass on his lips to take the first chug, his phone rang.

His private phone rang. 

At this time of night, usually only one of his work phones rang, because a new client needed money or a loanee begged for more time on a payment.

Confused, he stood up from where he was sitting and walked over to the couch. He’d thrown his phone on there when he came home.

At the sight of the caller ID, he froze. “My sun” stood on the display. Was he dreaming?

Immediately, he slid his thumb across the screen to accept the call. Excited, almost nervous, to hear your voice after years of not speaking to you, he held the phone to his ear.

“I knew you’d pick up”, a male voice rang in his head. This wasn’t you, nor should the person on the other side of the call ever be even near you.

A heavy breath left Gwang-Moo’s lips.

“Why the fuck do you have my wife’s phone?” Gwang-Moo clenched his fist tight with anger.

“Get me the money you owe me from all those debtors you stole off my turf and she’ll be alright”, the man on the other line stated. “You have an hour before we start messing her up.”

About four years ago, a deal fell through.

Gwang-Moo was supposed to collect money from a Loanee, but when he arrived at the agreed location, another group of loan sharks was already there.

His debtor was tied up in the back of a corner and the thugs all held a weapon of their choice in their hands.

“This is our territory now. No more deals around here for you, got it?”

Gwang-Moo wanted nothing to do with whatever these guys were up to. But he was a man of business, and that client owed him a lot of money.

Money that he wasn’t willing to give up that easily.

Now, he realizes, he should’ve just let them have it and avoid crossing them again. If he wasn’t so stubborn and provoked them.

Ever since then, the bossman of the rising gangsters was stirring up trouble around Gwang-Moo and his business.

He wanted Gwang-Moo to give up all his clients from the area he claimed for himself, but Gwang-Moo kept going back for the money he was owed by businesses in the area.

It all started with them showing up in his office, sometimes messing it up and destroying his furniture. Then, they moved on to calling his house. Where you picked up the phone and got threatened.

If he thinks about it, this whole dilemma was really the root cause of you not feeling safe anymore.

And now – so many years later, and even after he signed off on the divorce to help you get away from his work troubles – this guy found your new home and kidnapped you.

Gwang-Moo really should’ve just given him what he wanted from the start, avoiding this back and forth clashing of his company and the newcomers.

But throughout this clash he always thought, ‘If I give in to what they want, they’ll just keep pushing for more.’

Sooner or later, they would’ve driven him off of his last bit of turf and he’d end up never recovering financially.

No money in the world is worth your safety, though. He should’ve known better than this.

These thoughts of regret haunted Gwang-Moo on the way to save you.

These assholes brought you to an abandoned warehouse between Seoul and the countryside, where you settled after the divorce.

He didn’t even need them to tell him the address – Gwang-Moo already knew. Since there’s only one distribution company that went broke around that area and had to close down their business, only leaving the empty buildings behind.

Gwang-Moo knew the area well enough to find his way quickly to where you’d been brought to. Because after you moved out of the house you once shared, he’d always have an eye on your whereabouts.

Just to know you were safe.

When he arrived at the warehouse, the headlights of his truck beamed over the sandy ground as the stones underneath his tires crunched softly from still being wet after the rain.

He left his key in the ignition, to keep the lights on. As he got out of the vehicle, he saw two men, dressed in dark clothes, stand at the entrance to the warehouse.

The large double doors were slightly ajar, letting a thin beam of light slip out.

Before walking there, Gwang-Moo opened the back of his truck and grabbed a leather bag from the loading area.

As he approached, the two guards didn’t try to stop him from opening the door further to walk in.

There, tied to a chair, with blood in your hair and gagged with some sort of fabric that was tied around your face and stuffed in your mouth, you sat in the middle of the nearly empty hall.

Everything had been cleared out, besides some metal shelves and paper boxes that were left behind by the old company.

The bossman sat next to you, with a knife in his hand.

He looked at the watch on his wrist as he stood up, calling out: “You’re right on time, Mr. Moon!”

He sounded overjoyed. “I knew I could count on you – after all, this is about the woman you love.” As he said this, a dirty smirk crossed his lips.

“There’s your money”, Gwang-Moo growled as he threw the leather bag in his direction. “Now keep your part of the deal and let me walk out of here with her in peace.”

The thug nodded smugly and walked towards the bag. Meanwhile, Gwang-Moo ran to you.

With tears in your eyes, you look at him. His face was pulled into wrinkles with worry and he clenched his teeth.

“I’m sorry”, he repeated as he removed the rope that tied your arms to the chair. “I’m so sorry that my work followed you out here.”

Gwang-Moo untied the fabric that crossed your head to keep you quiet. He pulled it out of your mouth carefully and finally sunk to his knees in front of you.

You shared a moment of just silence, looking into each other’s eyes, before Gwang-Moo softly laid a hand onto your cheek as he shook his head.

“Because I couldn’t cut you out of my heart, you ended up in danger”, he whispered, with tears building up in his eyes. “If I didn’t love you, you wouldn’t be my vulnerability.”

“Just get me out of here, please,” your voice was coarse and not much louder than his whispers were.

Your plea was met with a strong nod, although Gwang-Moo did sniffle away his tears. He helped you to your feet, but the stress – emotionally and physically, as you were hurt on your head – made your legs shake.

Swiftly, he brought one arm to the back of your knees and lifted you up into his embrace. He supported your back with his other arm, you held onto his shoulder and leaned your head against his chest.

The thug had been counting the money from the bag all while the two of you prepared to get out of the warehouse.

When Gwang-Moo walked past him, the grimy looking man laughed at your ex-husband. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

You know that Gwang-Moo wanted to punch his face in for the remark, but you could feel him take a deep breath into his chest, before deciding to turn back to the door and walk out to his car.

As you looked up to his face, you could see how he was clenching his teeth.

He helped you sit down on the passenger seat, put the seatbelt on you and got in on the driver’s side.

The ride to the house that you once called your home was quiet. All you could hear was the hum of the engine of his truck. Eventually you turned on the radio on a low volume, just to fill the silence.

The familiar driveway came into sight as Gwang-Moo pulled into the street you lived in until three years ago.

He turned off the engine, leaving the two of you in absolute quietness.

“They know where you live”, he murmured with his head held down, hands still on the steering wheel. As he said this, he tightened his grip on the leather. “I didn’t think it wise to leave you there by yourself tonight.”

His explanation was almost a whisper.

“I’d really like to take a shower, and maybe you could check my head”, you said as you unbuckled the seatbelt. “I felt blood run down my neck earlier, although I think it dried up by now.”

Gwang-Moo finally looked at you before he nodded in agreement.

Just as he helped you into the car, he helped you out. He carried you inside the house – where everything was still just the same as the day you left with but a few things packed.

He sat you down on the ottoman in front of the couch, sat down himself right behind you, and separated your hair where the impact hit you earlier tonight.

“It’s just a cut”, he breathed out. You could hear the relief in his voice.

Gwang-Moo stood up again. “I’ll get the first aid kit to clean your wound.”

Before he could walk away, you grabbed his wrist.

“Thank you for saving me”, you uttered quietly. You would’ve died, if it weren’t for him hurrying to your rescue. He turned around to you, his lips in a pout.

“My love”, he started speaking, but his voice cracked as tears started to shoot back into his eyes. This time, he let them escape and slowly trickle down across his cheeks. “You would’ve never been in this situation if it weren’t for me.”

His guilt was more than obvious to you. But you just shook your head. All it took from you was a pull on his wrist to get him to fall into a hug from you. The two of you held each other tightly. You couldn’t help but cry too, feeling his trembling shoulders beneath your palms.

You pulled your head back to look at him, wiped his tears off of his cheeks and looked across his face. You missed this face, but you hated seeing it distorted into sadness.

His eyes landed on your lips and slowly, he leaned in for a kiss. You didn’t stop him, yet he jerked away, as if the kiss gave him an electric shock.

“I didn’t mean to overstep”, he apologized.

“You didn’t “, you shook your head. “I wanted to do the same thing.”

Your admission visibly confused him. Before he had to ask, you explained: “All I could think of back there was, that after all, I’m safest with you.”

You could see that he wanted to disagree. But you pecked his lips quickly before he could speak.

“If you’re by my side, it doesn’t matter whether I get in danger – because I know that you’re going to save me again.”

“Of course I’ll save you”, he whispered. His eyes were locked in deeply onto yours. “I never stopped loving you, but that’s exactly what brought you into this mess.”

Gwang-Moo slid his thumbs underneath your eyes to wipe your remaining tears away now. 

“I should’ve listened to you and closed down my business”, he admits. It felt good to hear those words. “If I don’t get out of this loan shark stuff, it’ll never stop – there will always be new people trying to claim turf and stir up trouble.”

He finally saw what you tried to get into his head all this time ago. It made you smile.

“Then close your company down”, you conclude. “And let’s sell this house.”

He breathed a chuckle out. “You’ll take me back?”

“I’ve missed my moon so much, I’ve been looking at the sky every night since leaving here because it reminded me of you…”

“Mh”, Gwang-Moo nodded slowly at your words, with the smile that you knew all too well on his face. “It’s been too cold without my sun.”