ant . 🪽

my answer is you . — pinned page

‎○˳ ‎ ‎ meet ant . 🪽 or anthony , our nerdy haejo n° 1 simp & angst monster . welcome to his boy blog and journey in becoming a better fic writer and less of a procrastinator . . .

— guidelines ; m.list —

ⓘ inbox is open 4 requests

this blog isn't hae-jo centric , it's also reserved to jjk fics that are wips 4 now .

ᘛ ꒰ 𝐁𝐎𝐗𝐄𝐑! 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐉𝐎 𝐗 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ੭

Being assigned as the personal medic for the "reckless monster," a.k.a. Hae-jo, was absolute hell. You were more like a babysitter than a medic to him. He couldn't care less if you had the duty to patch him up after fights; sometimes he even had the audacity to tell the manager that you didn't want to do the dirty work. As annoying as he could be, you caught a glimpse of the helplessness behind his immature behavior. Now, it’s your choice: save him and wreck yourself, or preserve yourself and let him die.

# wc :: 812 / pinterest board

୭ ˚.cws:: red flag!Haejo :: violence (boxing) :: terminal illness (implied revealed) :: toxic dynamics :: no physical abuse (beetween leads) :: heavy angst :: anger issues :: self destructive behavior :: enemies to lovers :: hate to love :: slow burn :: so much sex :: duty vs love :: love vs lust :: hate fucking :: death (duh)

The persistent, aseptic smell of disinfectant in the infirmary refused to leave; it was as if it had permanently soaked into the room. Even opening the window to let some air circulate had proven completely useless. As you cleaned the tweezers you had used the night before to grab the cotton pad, your mind drifted back to yesterday evening. To Hae-jo’s mocking remarks, his self-destructive carelessness, and... nothing but the thought of your brother flashed through your head.

​There was a sort of parallelism between Hae-jo and him: both fought in the ring to root out of their minds what they couldn't express with words.

Of course, your brother didn't let himself get killed in the ring, nor did he drive the manager or his personal medic insane, but he fought with the exact same desperation and determination as that boy with the stitches under his left eye.

​You sighed, thinking of him. Work could keep you busy for eternity, but your brother's memory would never slide away from the walls of your mind.

​You would have been truly cold-hearted if you had forgotten your brother so easily.

​But you weren't. Yes, you were professional, but not icy. You didn't repress your emotions until you exploded, unlike someone else...

​Right as the thought of him flashed through your mind, the infirmary door clicked open with a loud snap. Hae-jo appeared out of nowhere and leaned against the doorframe, a hateful smirk plastered across his face.

​His arrival was entirely unexpected: his next match wasn't until tomorrow night, and his follow-up checkup was scheduled for next week. So why the hell was he here?

​He was wearing a loose beige hoodie over a white t-shirt, paired with black baggy jeans. The bandage was still on his lip, and he wore a uniquely punchable expression on his face. Without even saying hello, he strolled into your office, snatched the cup of ginseng tea right off your desk, and sat on top of it as if he owned the place.

​"Hae-jo. I’m reminding you that this is my office, not your backyard balcony." With a swift movement, you snatched the cup back from his hands before he could even take a sip.

​Instead of unleashing his wrath upon you, Hae-jo leaned forward on the desk, reducing the distance between your faces, completely unbothered by the fact that you had just taken his ginseng away. "Office or balcony, looks to me like there's a pretty great view in both places," he murmured with a crooked smirk. "Admit it, you missed me already. You couldn't stop thinking about me, could you?"

​"Cut it out," you retorted, crossing your arms. "To me, it looks like you have absolutely no grip on reality."

​Hae-jo’s expression shifted in an instant. The playful mockery vanished, replaced by a sudden, sharp tension.

​"And how's that?" he asked, leaning even closer to your face, his icy eyes locking onto yours.

​"How's that?! Can you seriously not see the problem here? You are irresponsible, arrogant, aggressive, and careless! You think life is just some kind of game, but sweetheart, it’s not like that at all. If you keep refusing treatment and end up in a body bag because of your injuries, my medical license goes down the drain right along with you! I don’t care if you kill yourself in the ring—you can do that as much as you want—but I am not going to let you throw away three and a half years of medical experience just because you're a temperamental brat who wants attention."

​Hae-jo froze, his face bare inches from yours. His cocky smirk had completely vanished, replaced by a mask of cold, incredulous shock. No one in the circuit had ever spoken to him like that. No one had ever dared to look past his monster persona and reduce him to a mere brat throwing a tantrum for attention. For a split second, a flash of pure rage flickered in his dark eyes, his knuckles turning white as his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

​You didn't back down, holding his heavy gaze with every ounce of firmness you possessed.

​Slowly, Hae-jo pushed himself back, sliding off the desk. He yanked down the edges of his beige hoodie with a sharp jerk, as if trying to compose himself, though the rigid tension in his jaw completely betrayed how hard that blow had hit him.

​"A temperamental brat, huh?" he repeated under his breath, his tone unusually low, stripped of its usual mockery.

​He took a step toward the door, then paused, looking back at you sideways.

​"No one’s ever forced such a bitter medicine down my throat, doc. Just make sure you don't choke on it yourself."

​Without another word, he turned on his heel and vanished into the dark corridors of the underground circuit, leaving the door wide open behind him.

​The moment he disappeared from your sight, you let out a sigh of pure relief. What needed to be said had been said, without beating around the bush.

​It was exactly what he deserved.

ᘛ ꒰ 𝐁𝐎𝐗𝐄𝐑! 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐉𝐎 𝐗 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ੭

Being assigned as the personal medic for the "reckless monster," a.k.a. Hae-jo, was absolute hell. You were more like a babysitter than a medic to him. He couldn't care less if you had the duty to patch him up after fights; sometimes he even had the audacity to tell the manager that you didn't want to do the dirty work. As annoying as he could be, you caught a glimpse of the helplessness behind his immature behavior. Now, it’s your choice: save him and wreck yourself, or preserve yourself and let him die.

# wc :: 1.213 / pinterest board

୭ ˚.cws:: red flag!Haejo :: violence (boxing) :: terminal illness (implied revealed) :: toxic dynamics :: no physical abuse (beetween leads) :: heavy angst :: anger issues :: self destructive behavior :: enemies to lovers :: hate to love :: slow burn :: so much sex :: duty vs love :: love vs lust :: hate fucking :: death (duh)

notes :: y/n will be quite overused in series like this ! !

​Losing your brother hadn't taught you a lesson: you were back in the sterile infirmary of the underground ring, ready for a new contract, a new patient, another life to clean up, stitch, monitor, and perhaps... bury all over again.

​But you had gotten used to it by now. In the ring, death was just routine: a punch to the temple, one too many kicks to the stomach, internal bleeding... a single blow could make everything degenerate in a split second.

​The most reassuring thing was that, after four years of experience, you had finally understood the most important truth of all: you are not God. You cannot perform miracles, nor can you resurrect those who gave their lives for a golden belt. You can only hope to succeed; after all, nothing is certain.

​"Y/N, why are you back so soon? I gave you all the time you needed to process your brother's loss. Why all the rush?" the ring manager asked, pausing by the doorway.

​"Taking a break won't bring my brother back. Keeping my mind occupied is what I really need right now," you retorted, adjusting the sleeve of your medical coat.

​"I think you're definitely going to need that break before you start taking care of your next patient," he replied, pulling a stack of document protectors filled with paperwork out of his shoulder bag.

​"What do you mean?" you asked, stepping closer to your desk to get a better look at the files.

​The manager slid the first plastic protector across the wooden desk, revealing the profile picture of a guy with sharp eyes and messy hair.

​"His name is Hae-jo. Twenty-five years old. He’s the circuit's latest acquisition, and he’s already become our favorite bureaucratic nightmare," the manager began, tapping his index finger against the photo. "Three matches in the last month, three K.O. victories, and three times we almost had to carry him out in a body bag because he refuses to let anyone patch him up when the fight is over."

​He laid down a second document, an endless list of previous medical reports, all signed by different doctors.

​"He scared off or got the last four medics I assigned to him fired. He threatened to throw one off the bleachers, and he almost got into a fistfight with another in the locker room. He doesn’t follow rules, he won't sign the liability waivers, and he fights like he has a personal vendetta against life itself."

​The manager leaned forward, locking eyes with you.

​"I’m giving you the worst asset I have on the market, Y/N. He doesn’t care if he bleeds, he doesn’t care if he drops dead in the ring. And to be completely honest with you, I don't know if you're going to need a needle to stitch his skin or a straitjacket to keep him still."

​A spark of curiosity ignited in your mind. In four years, you had dealt with plenty of difficult cases—from guys doping just to win, to fighters threatening to murder their opponents after every lost match—but you had never encountered an autodestructive boxer who utterly lacked a survival instinct quite like the manager was describing.

​But before making any reckless decisions, you paused to think: this was more than just a complicated case. It felt like a one-way ticket to hell.

​The manager, noticing your hesitation, leaned forward and made an offer he had never granted to any doctor before.

​"If things get too heavy, you can cancel the contract without any trouble, Y/N. Hae-jo is a beast, he has no mercy for anyone."

​His words should have made you back down, but that just wasn't in your nature. You gripped the pen between your fingers and signed the contract.

​"No backing down. I'll take him."

​An hour later, the infirmary door clicked open with a snap. Hae-jo made his entrance. He had a black duffel bag carelessly thrown over one shoulder, wearing streetwear clothes that were definitely way too baggy. But it was his face that immediately caught your attention: three fresh stitches right under his left eye, a split lower lip still oozing a few drops of blood, and an expression of absolute, irritating superiority painted all over his face. The ultimate definition of an arrogant asshole.

​He didn't even give you enough time to introduce yourself. He threw a shallow glance your way, walked right past you, completely ignoring your presence, and headed straight for the back locker room to change, leaving the door wide open.

​He was probably convinced he had already intimidated you, but after spending four years surrounded by the worst scumbags in the underground circuit, it took much more than an arrogant brat with a split lip to bring you down.

​You arranged the surgical tools on the stainless steel tray with a sharp metallic clink, a cold smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Poor fool, you thought, you have no idea who you're dealing with.

​Hae-jo changed quickly. When he walked out of the locker room without even giving you a glance, he headed straight for the infirmary door, moving at a fast pace toward the ring.

​You sighed, quickening your steps to follow him out into the arena.

​Watching Hae-jo's match live was a brutal experience. It was nothing like the regular, sanctioned fights you had seen in the past; the underground circuit had no rules, and that guy fought as if he were actively trying to get himself killed.

​From your spot at ringside, you could hear the dull, visceral thud of gloves impacting raw flesh, followed by the bloodthirsty roar of the crowd. Hae-jo moved across the canvas with an unstable fury, his back muscles tense and slick with sweat, his wet hair already plastered to his forehead. He didn't care about defense. He ducked one punch only to take another one straight to the jaw, spitting blood onto the mat without ever losing that mocking, crazed smile of his.

​Beside you, the circuit manager was watching the ring with an expression of pure, exhausted dread mixed with desperation, a hand already pressed over his face as he peered through his fingers, unable to handle the sight of Hae-jo destroying himself.

​Every time his opponent landed a hit, you felt a sharp knot tighten in your stomach. Your medical instinct was screaming, calculating the damage with every impact: split left cheekbone, possible concussion, bruised ribs. But he didn't care. The more he bled, the heavier, more violent, and more desperate his punches became. Hae-jo seemed to be fighting more against himself than against his opponent.

​When the referee declared his victory by K.O., Hae-jo didn't celebrate. He just stood in the center of the ring, his chest heaving frantically, his left eye already swelling and blood dripping down his chin, his gaze completely lost in the void.

​You sighed, running a hand through your hair: it was going to be harder to convince him to get treated than to actually patch up the wounds he had given himself.

​Right after the match, Hae-jo headed toward the locker room, changing in a frantic rush. Ignoring the manager's warnings, he walked straight toward the infirmary door, ready to slip away, convinced he could just leave without getting patched up, just like he had done with all the other doctors.

​Did he really think you were just going to stand there and watch him leave? Poor fool...

​Before his hand could even brush the doorknob, you took three quick steps, closed the distance between us, and grabbed a firm handful of his mullet, yanking him back decisively. The pull was sharp enough to halt his step and force his head to tilt backward. Hae-jo gasped, startled by the sudden contact, but a second later his usual cocky expression returned to his face.

​He glanced back at you sideways, an irritating smirk playing on his split lips, clearly intending to mock you.

​"Do you really think you can get away with this with me?" you growled, keeping an iron grip on his hair, your eyes locked onto his.

​He let out a half-laugh, raising his hands in mock surrender.

​"Oh, we got a doctor with claws today? Watch out, if you ruin my haircut, I’m going to sue you, doc."

​You didn't play along. Completely ignoring his provocations, you tightened your grip and, without any hesitation, dragged him across the infirmary toward the examination table. Hae-jo stumbled backward, swearing under his breath, but he was too caught off guard by your raw determination to put up any real physical resistance.

​He might be the underground circuit's "reckless monster," but in this room, you called the shots. And you weren't about to let him do whatever the hell he wanted.

​After dragging him across the room, you forced him to sit on the edge of the stainless steel examination table. Hae-jo scoffed, running a hand through his hair, but he didn't try to get up. This time, the injuries were superficial—the usual routine for someone like him: his left eye swollen around the old stitches, his lower lip badly split, and a nasty bruise beginning to bloom on his right flank.

​Snapping a pair of latex gloves onto your hands, you grabbed his chin without ceremony and began to dab his lip with a gauze pad soaked in antiseptic. Hae-jo gritted his teeth, but he instantly masked the pain with a cocky remark:

​"Are you always this gentle with your patients, doc?"

​His voice was thick with the taste of blood, a crooked smirk tugging at his lips.

​"Only with the ones who try to run away before I’m done," you retorted flatly, pressing the cotton pad down harder onto his bleeding lip while holding him firmly by the chin with your gloved fingers. His skin was burning hot against your fingertips, which were cold from the latex.

​After neatly bandaging his lip, you tossed an instant ice pack his way.

​"Hold this over your swollen eye. And pull your shirt up, I need to check your ribs."

​Hae-jo let out a low, husky laugh, but he complied, pulling his sweatshirt over his head with gestures that were far too smooth. Under the cold infirmary lights, his sculpted torso bore the clear marks of the match he had just finished. You leaned in slightly, pressing your fingers against the right side of his chest. Beneath your fingertips, you could feel his warm skin and the muscles instantly tightening under your touch.

​The moment your hand pressed directly onto the center of the bruise, Hae-jo snapped forward, suddenly locking his hand around your wrist in an iron grip. His warm breath fanned against your neck. "That hurts," he growled under his breath, his gaze suddenly serious, stripped of his usual mockery.

​You hesitated for a split second: you wanted to pull his hand off your wrist, but doing so would have screamed 'You successfully intimidated me,' and no, you didn't want to give him that impression.

​You looked up with icy calmness, locking your eyes with his.

​"If it hurts, it means your ribs are just bruised, not broken. If you don't stop squirming, you can forget about the ring tomorrow."

​Hae-jo slowly let go of his grip, his lips slightly parted, surprised by your detached and professional attitude.

​Then, slowly, his usual cocky smirk crept back onto his face, though this time it felt a little less effortless. He leaned back on the table, resting his shoulders against the wall. "You're a tough one, doc."

​"I’m just someone doing their job," you retorted, snapping the latex gloves off your hands and throwing them into the trash. You turned toward your desk, giving him your back with absolute indifference.

​"Take some painkillers and get out of my sight. We’re done for today. See you at the next match."

​Hae-jo didn't answer right away. He slid off the examination table, grabbed his duffel bag, and headed for the exit. But right before crossing the threshold, he turned to look at you one last time, a dangerous glint of curiosity in his eyes.

​You returned that look with an icy glare. You weren't going to be tamed by someone like him, nor would you be treated like a toy. It took much more than simple remarks and a careless attitude to bring you down.

©i99ssvqx. no plagiarism or ai training authorised.

ᘛ ꒰ 𝐁𝐎𝐗𝐄𝐑! 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐉𝐎 𝐗 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ੭

Being assigned as the personal medic for the "reckless monster," a.k.a. Hae-jo, was absolute hell. You were more like a babysitter than a medic to him. He couldn't care less if you had the duty to patch him up after fights; sometimes he even had the audacity to tell the manager that you didn't want to do the dirty work. As annoying as he could be, you caught a glimpse of the helplessness behind his immature behavior. Now, it’s your choice: save him and wreck yourself, or preserve yourself and let him die.

# wc :: 206 / pinterest board

୭ ˚.cws:: red flag!Haejo :: violence (boxing) :: terminal illness (implied revealed) :: toxic dynamics :: no physical abuse (beetween leads) :: heavy angst :: anger issues :: self destructive behavior :: enemies to lovers :: hate to love :: slow burn :: so much sex :: duty vs love :: love vs lust :: hate fucking :: death(duh)

They warned you about him.

Before you even signed the contract as the official ringside medic for the underground circuit. They told you there was one boxer who would test every ounce of patience. A man who fought in the ring just to purge emotions out of him.

Hae-jo.

His opponents feared him, his unstable fury in the ring was enough for the underground circuit to nickname him "reckless monster". He didn't care if he bled, if the bruises stung, if he could even drop dead at the end of the match. He needed to feel something.

To you, he was just another patient.

Another sheet of vitals to check, another set of lacerations to suture. Basically, you were hired to keep him from killing himself on the ring.

But as you stand in the dimly lit infirmary waiting for him to walk through the door, his gaze seem to hold somenthing more broken underneath than his scarred knuckles.

After every match, you begin to sense that this isn't just a job. It's a battle beetween his self-destructive behavior and your license.

But, between the scent of iron on his skin, and the possessive way his arms wrap around your figure, you are already losing self-control.

©i99ssvqx. no plagiarism or ai training authorised.

(☆ , ant . 🪽 ) ANTHONY

𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 — he / him ; gay

melancholic passionate writer, nerd and awkward guy who's dream is to become an author ( duh ). linguistics school attender — currently learning arabic and spanish.

writing isn't only an hobby 4 me, but an escape from reality and a way to express myself. i've been writing since i was a little italian boy being picked on for his "stupid" dream, that's why i've been too shy to publish my works on the internet, but i've come to try. my english might be wonky but I'm here to improve .

anime n' kpop weeb at it's PEAK ; plus a film lover and a mathematics lover .

sex positive to the max, woke and anti - conformist. i will not get political on the blog, but if it's necessary, i won't water down my beliefs.

i'm also a maladaptive daydreamer so most of my works come from my "imagination's film studio" lmao

angst lover . i love making the reader cry their eyes out over my fics n series loll — also a smut enjoyer. im absolutely fond of ocs and self-inserts.

i won't be active much on here most of the time. i tend to disappear for months when i have zero energy nor ideas for what to post, but don't worry, i always come back ! (fnaf reference-)

i'm a musicophile who's really fond of literally every genre of music so you'll find reference to most song lyrics all over my blog !

MUTE YOURSELF

pairings: teacher!hae-jo (mr plankton) x afab reader

summary : Haejo lets you suck him off instead of attending an online class council meeting because you're too horny to think straight...

tags : smut with a sprinkle of plot :: blowjob :: cum licking/swallowing :: hair pulling :: praise kink :: overstimulation :: needy haejo :: smutty

word count: 752 (ik it's short but dw that's because i'm working on the series!)

whisper ᝰ.ᐟ i'm a slut for teacher!haejo teheheh

Hae-jo had finally found out what a freak he was dating. I mean, you were down to try almost anything in the book.

Yet he didn't know you were that freaked out.

He had sprawled himself on his swivel chair, a fuming coffee cup on his mouse pad, a malboro cigarette in hand, which glowed in the dim room. He exhaled a slow stream of smoke that swirled around the room, while waiting for his colleagues to join the meeting link he had just created on google meet.

Honestly speaking, he didn't want to attend that stupid call when you were seated on the couch, horny out of your mind, only wishing to be bouncing up and down his cock all day instead of waiting for him to finish that damn call.

However, impatient as fuck as you could be, you slammed the door open, making Hae-jo slightly jump at that sudden loud noise.

Without a word you made yourself comfortable under the pale white desk, and...Hae-jo didn't question it, instead he lended you a cushion to place under your knees to keep yourself comfortable, his cock already throbbing in anticipation. The call could wait: you were desperate in lack of vitamin D.

His beige cargo were quickly unbuckled and pushed down to his thighs, your cold fingers went to his boxers, hungrily lowering them.

Just the touch of your cold fingers brushing against his sensitive skin was enough to make Hae-jo shudder slightly. You lowered his boxers enough to expose his already pulsing and erect shaft already leaking pre-cum and spasming.

"Good boy~" You murmured against the flushed head of his cock resulting in it twitching and hardening at your praise.

Without loosing any more time you wrapped your mouth around his thick lenght, bobbing your head up and down, causing a symphony of grunts and moans to escape him.

Hae-jo's face flushes crimson, his glasses askew on the bridge of his nose, and his hands are gripping the fabric of the chair so hard it's close to tear itself. Haejo grabs the hem of your hair, pushing you closer to his erection, causing you to blurt out a surprised cry, your mouth clenching further around his cock, a moan slipped from his lips as he tilted his head back in pure pleasure.

"...Nghhh~! Keep...going, please don't -hah- stop..." he stammers, his nails buring deep into the scraped fabric of his chair.

Hae-jo buckled his knees almost making you choke on it, drool engulfing his cock as it progressively hardened, progressively expanding into your mouth.

You moaned into his length, bobbing your head up and down more rapidly, Hae-jo's face flushing crimson, his head tossed back as he squeezed the chair harder enough to tear it's fabric.

Like the teasy cunt you were, you immediately moved your mouth away, leaving him throbbing and aching with a deep need.

"W-wait, please...? he begs breathlessly, begging for you to wrap that warm, filthy mouth of yours around his thick cock. What a needy little whore.

Instead of fulfilling his burning desires, you start to tease the underside vein of his cock with your tongue, making it twich and pulse for you.

Hae-jo whimpers again, he glances down at you, pleading you with his chestnut puppy eyes, praying you to glide that sticky tongue of yours over his hard cock.

You couldn't resist that plea, you took half of his length into your mouth without warning. Hae-jo let out a surprised and cry, digging his nails into the chair again. He pants and whimpers like a needy slut, his eyes screwed shut, curses slipping from his lips one after the other as his breath becomes laboured. You're driving him crazy as you keep teasing him with those sinful lips and tongue of yours.

"F, fuuuuuck..." he moans loudly, his head tossed back as he released rope after rope of sticky warm cum into your tongue.

Hae-jo's chest rises and falls with heavy pants beneath his knitted black vest, heart hammering, his skin glistening with sweat as he attempts to come down from his high.

You swallow his release like the good girl you are before you lick away a thick rope of cum from your're chin eyes locked onto his.

"Round two?" you ask, batting your lashes while smirking at what a mess he became just because of a quickie..

©i99ssvqx. no plagiarism or ai training authorised.

all written works on this blog belong to i99ssvqx. any kind of plagiarism, reposting, or replication in another language is prohibited.

WORKS , SERIES , DRABBLES, HEADCANONS mr plankton (hae-jo)

𓍢ִ໋❀ SERIES

BLOOD AND LUST

DEAD BY DAYLIGHT

DO I WANNA KNOW ?

SECRETS I HAVE HELD IN MY HEART

𓍢ִ໋✿︎ ONESHOTS

SHOWER SEX

AFTER SCHOOL HOURS

LET ME KISS YOU HARD IN THE POURING RAIN

LAZY AFTERNOONS

HAEJO HEADCANONS

MUTE YOURSELF

WORKS , SERIES , DRABBLES, HEADCANONS jjk

00. satoru gojo

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01. suguru geto

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02. toge inumaki

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03. megumi fushiguro

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04. toji fushiguro

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05. yuta okkotsu

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divider: @dollywons

ᘛ ꒰ 𝐁𝐎𝐗𝐄𝐑! 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐉𝐎 𝐗 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ੭

On the ring, his knuckles bleed for a title he doesn't even want. In your clinic, his eyes burn with a desire he can't afford to have. Being the personal doctor for Haejo—the most reckless, self-destructive boxer in the circuit—was supposed to be just a job. You were there to stitch his skin and monitor his vitals, not to decode the silence behind his rage. Your medical visits slowly started to mute into battles of wills between your cold professionalism and his chaotic violence. ​Blood is what he leaves on the canvas. Lust is what he finds in your hands. And the truth? The truth is a wound that neither of you is ready to heal.

୭ ˚.cws:: red flag!Haejo :: violence (boxing) :: terminal illness (implied revealed) :: toxic dynamics :: no physical abuse (beetween leads) :: heavy angst :: anger issues :: self destructive behavior :: enemies to lovers :: hate to love :: slow burn :: so much sex :: duty vs love :: love vs lust :: hate fucking :: death(duh)

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ prologue

⋆˙⟡ chapter 01 :: the assignment

⋆˙⟡ chapter 02 :: bitter medicine

⋆˙⟡ chapter 03 :: violence and lollipops

⋆˙⟡ chapter 04 :: misunderstandings

⋆˙⟡ chapter 05 :: bloody knuckles

⋆˙⟡ chapter 06 :: scattered feelings

⋆˙⟡ chapter 07 :: never good enough

⋆˙⟡ chapter 08 :: heartwrenching secret

⋆˙⟡ chapter 09 :: i don't care if it hurts

⋆˙⟡ chapter 10 :: teary eyes

⋆˙⟡ chapter 11 :: the cut that always bleeds

⋆˙⟡ chapter 12 :: tore apart bandaids

⋆˙⟡ chapter 13 :: understandings

⋆˙⟡ chapter 14 :: that boy is a monster

⋆˙⟡ chapter 15 :: i fucking hate you, but i love you

⋆˙⟡ chapter 16 :: he ate my heart

⋆˙⟡ chapter 17 :: fuck me like i'm famous

⋆˙⟡ chapter 18 :: please don’t leave me

⋆˙⟡ chapter 19 :: like a stray cat

⋆˙⟡ chapter 20 :: blood and lust

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ epilogue

──── comment to be added to taglist ♡⸝⸝

— LAZY AFTERNOONS

pairings : hae-jo (mr plankton) x partner!reader

tags: fluff, pure fluff, soft, tsundere!haejo, partner appreciation, estabilished relathionship, domestic fluff, pining, cuddles, cuddling on the couch, sharing a blanket, pillow fights, hand holding.

summary: Your partner Hae-jo continues to deny that he decided to spend an afternoon basking in your company, but the hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls he baked himself and the way his heart flutters as you keep him close only contradict him.

word count: 782

The crackling of the fire in the fireplace, accompanied by the hum of the Netflix series playing on the TV, were the only sounds filling the dining room, along with the rhythm of your breathing as you two enjoyed a carefree afternoon snuggled up on the couch, wrapped in the same blanket.

Hae-jo had prepared everything he needed to make the most of the afternoon; he had renewed his Netflix subscription, angled the couch even closer to the TV, dimmed the lights to make the movie stand out on the TV screen...

However, despite this, he continued to insist that he hadn't planned anything and had simply improvised to make the evening better.

The delicious smell of hot chocolate in two mugs on the glass table in front of the television filled the air throughout the house. There were also some delicious cinnamon rolls wrapped in a thin sheet of parchment paper sitting next to the hot chocolates on a metal tray.

But nooo, he hadn't prepared all this for you. Absolutely not.

"Nuisance, could you please get off of me for a moment? My arm's falling asleep..." Hae-jo muttered, trying to move you by grabbing your arm, trying to push it aside to let his breathe, which was tingling from how much you were pressing on it. You, lying comfortably with all your weight on top of him, didn't move a muscle, and you clung to the couch to stay in that position. Every time you decided to spend an afternoon on the couch, Hae-jo would complain incessantly when you lay on top of him, always complaining that you were destroying his limb by suffocating him.

"No, fuck you." You replied, your middle finger clearly visible. So saying, you clung to him like a koala, digging your claws into his back, making him let out a half-groan. He nudged you lightly, then pulled you closer. He pulled the covers up and shook his head as if to say, "You'll never change..."

Even though his arm was now sore from lying on it with all your weight, Hae-jo decided not to move it, perhaps because, after all, he was used to it, or because he loved you so much that he didn't want to break this "habit" of yours...

The snow was falling slowly outside your apartment; the sky was covered in fluffy black clouds that scattered drifts and drifts of white snow. The golden lights of the city provided a wonderful backdrop for your evening.

Haejo decided to cover you with the blanket, blocking your view and preventing you from continuing to watch the TV series on the television.

"I understand you're touch-starved, but I'd still like to watch the show while we cuddle!" You exclaimed, trying to get out of the covers, but Hae-jo aggressively pulled you closer to him, making you faceplant onto his chest while he giggled softly at your irritability.

As you laid on his chest, you could hear how fast his heart was thumping while he kept you close to him, and you found it absolutely adorable...

He was like an orange: on the outside, oranges had a hard peel, but on the inside, they hid a soft, sweet heart, just like Hae-jo.

"It looks like someone's heart is racing!~" you teased, nudging him lightly. The raven-haired man turned crimson, and he silenced you by covering you with the blanket.

"Wow, and you're blushing too!" You teased once again, giggling to yourself.

Before you could continue your teasing, Hae-jo sat up and threw one of the pillows on the couch at you. That pillow landed squarely om your face. For a moment, you were left breathless, then you grabbed a pillow of your own to get revenge. Laughing, you hit your idiot boyfriend on the head, who didn't hesitate to hit you harder.

That comfy evening quickly turned into a violent pillow fight, with you receiving an unimaginable number of pillow hits to the face.

As soon as you finished pillow fighting, you sat back down on the couch, tired but undoubtedly happy to have each other by your side. You were about to tease him again about the previous incident, but Hae-jo covered your mouth with one of the cinnamon rolls he'd made just for you.

You laughed with your mouth full and shook your head, savoring the sweet treat he'd prepared just for you...

Hae-jo might hide his sweet side behind his strong personality, but he was still a man madly in love with a weakness for his partner...

©i99ssvqx. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @dollywons

@nyxxnana here you gooo♡♡

─ LET ME KISS YOU HARD IN THE POURING RAIN

pairings: hae-jo (mr plankton) x spouse!reader

tags: terminal illness, secret keeping, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, bittersweet, reader is an overthinker, soft, estabilished relathionship, pining, cuddling, hand holding, kiss in the rain, dancing in the rain, rainy day fluff.

summary: Three months. That was the quiet number haunting Haejo, a secret he buried deeper than any trauma. But when the rain started, he pulled you out of the car, desperate to replace the sound of the ticking clock with the beat of your laughter. He needed one perfect, bittersweet memory for his final chapter...

word count: 1.1k

Three months. Three fucking months.

Haejo's hand tightened involuntarily around the steering wheel, a muscle in his jaw clenched. Three months, and he'd be gone. He'd vanish into the chilly December breeze, like the shadow he'd always been.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenched, the silent countdown pounding in his chest. A muscle in his forearm twitched, a tension you, sitting next to him, didn't share.

You were calm, watching the rain dim the city lights. You shoved your hands into the pockets of your beige coat, trying to warm them, but to no avail, so you moved closer.

Your fingers, cold from touching the window, rested on his tense knuckles, a gentle, unconscious warmth against his desperate grip.

​And Haejo couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He just wanted it to stay that way.

He preferred not to tell you, he didn't want to see your smile fade like a flame dimmed by snow. He had promised himself he would never make you suffer, never make you shed even a tear, especially for him.

Three months. It wasn't a great tragedy, just the universe correcting an administrative error. It was plankton. Plankton died and fed the system; the world continued to turn. Crying for a plankton was simply absurd.

Your happiness was what truly mattered to him. He would have done anything to see a smile bloom on your lips. Your laughter, to him, sounded like the plucking of a harp; it was sweet and precious to him. He didn't want your happiness to fade because of his death.

The warm warmth of the car was a tiny oasis against the downpour that beat on the windshield like a drum. One of those merciless winter downpours had hit Seoul; they were quite common at that time of year. The streetlights cast light on the puddles lining the wet sidewalks, the golden lights of the shops creating sparkles that, reflected in the droplets of water falling from the sky, looked like golden tears hanging from the clouds.

Hae-jo stared at the street in silence, the rain drumming on the car's windshield as the wipers worked to give him a better view of the road.

Then, his voice broke the silence. His tone was charged with something you'd never heard in his voice before.

"Get out." He ordered, direct, firm, impassive.

"What?" You asked, confused, tilting your head to the right. Why did he want you to get out? Why did he want to throw you out of the car in this rain...? He'd never thrown you out of the car before, not even during the most heated arguments, so why did he want you to get out in the middle of a storm like this now?...

"It's raining hard. This is the perfect time to prove you're not boring. We've never done anything this stupid before. Come on, Nuisance. Give me a good story to tell."

He parked the car, took off his seatbelt, got out, and opened the door.

You were still confused when he unbuckled your seatbelt with an unexpectedly sweet gesture; he'd never been so... affectionate before.

He took your hand and dragged you outside. You began to run through the wet streets of Seoul, the rain soaking your clothes and the cold December breeze blowing in your face. Hae-jo's black hair stuck to his face, framing his soft features as he ran alongside with you.

The world had faded, reduced to the pounding whisper of rain on the pavement and the distant wail of a saxophone. The surroundings seemed to vanish beneath the thin veil of water that enveloped everything as you ran toward the horizon; or perhaps toward a future that, sadly, would never come...

As Hae-jo ran, the heavy, damp fabric of his sweater clung to his skin, sticking to the tense line of his shoulders and chest, revealing his inner torment. Yet despite this, he had a silly smile on his face and his eyes shone like stars.

His sweet laugh filled the air as he squeezed your hand forcefully, as if you might vanish in the rain at any moment.

You ran as if you wanted to race against time, to stop its frenetic flow and live in that memory forever, perhaps that's precisely why he wanted you to run...

You stopped, both of you out of breath, soaking wet but smiling. You threw yourself on him, giving him a koala hug. Hae-jo held you tightly, burying his head in your neck, intoxicated by your scent. Oh, how he longed to hold you forever...

"Will you allow me this dance?" he asked, breaking away from your embrace, offering you his hand. The rain drummed on his form and a smile lit up his face. His eyes were two iridescent black pools, two black holes that suck you in. Sometimes you think you're too big to lose yourself in them. They enchant you, they leave you breathless, and they make you forget everything.

You laughed, bowing to him, your hand fitting perfectly in his. The raven-haired man placed his hands on your hips, gently holding you as he pulled you closer. His lips pressed against yours in a loving kiss, his hands lingering on your curves.

His lips were sweet and soft, they tasted of cherries from the lip balm he always used to keep them from chapping. Yours, on the other hand, tasted of lipstick and coffee, the coffee he'd offered you before taking a stroll through the city's illuminated streets.

When you broke away from that innocent kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours, while you laughed like the two fools in love you were.

Then he took your hand and invited you to dance while the rain washed away every thought. It wasn't a dance, but a slow, inexorable swaying, an attempt to balance the weight of the world on top of each other. The world seemed to have stopped to offer you a brief moment of joy, perhaps it too knew there would be no more...

He held you tightly, a hand on your back, an unexpected source of warmth, your face buried in his neck, your lips brushing his damp skin.

A smile wavered on his lips as he gazed at you, his eyes betraying a hint of sadness, knowing that time was passing too quickly, too unfair and cruel to take away the chance to be with you forever.

He would have preferred to die by your hand rather than have to count the months he had left to be with you.

You would have been the one to decide the end of his time, to stop his frantic race and tell him, "You can finally rest, you deserve it."

Because, after all, having you as the final scene of his life would have meant he had had a wonderful life.

©i99ssvqx. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @dollywons

─ AFTER SCHOOL HOURS

pairing: teacher!hae-jo (mr plankton) x wife! reader

tags : smut, smut with plot, oneshot, dirty talking, p in v, overstimulation, hand jobs, blow jobs, fingering, cunnilingus, manhandling, classroom sex, rough sex, anal sex, oral sex, spanking, degradation kink, hair pulling, multiple orgasms.

summary : Being busy with work has left both you and Hae-jo little time for intimacy. Fed up and pent up, you decided to drop by Hae-jo's classrom after work.

words : 2.9k

The sunlight filtering through the now bare and snow-covered cherry trees casts delicate shadows on the desks of the now-empty classrooms at Seoul High School. With a hurried pace, you walk through the now completely empty school corridors; all the students are now home after another hard day spent studying. Everyone, except for a certain raven-haired, long-haired, heart-throb-faced professor.

The professor you absolutely must go and get out of the school. Why? Because for almost five months, you and Haejo haven't been able to have any proper moments of intimacy with each other, and you can't stand it anymore.

Flip kisses and brief caresses aren't enough anymore. How he managed to keep it in his pants is something you really want to know, because now the wait is over: decency be damned, you need to get fucked right now.

You quicken your pace, moving almost mechanically toward the classroom you'd taken several times before when you wanted to show up at Hae-jo's class unannounced. You pause for a moment; in front of you is the door to Hae-jo's classroom. That bastard just wants some peace and quiet, probably grading some tests. Too bad you need his cock.

You knock on the door, waiting for a response.

"Come in!" he exclaimed, waiting for you to enter the classroom.

You slowly open the door; Hae-jo has already guessed it's you. What he doesn't know is what you want to do to him right now. You close the door behind you, taking up position behind him.

There he is: tie loosened, coat draped comfortably on his chair, his metal glasses about to slide off his nose, sleeves rolled up, and his hair a complete mess. His eyes never leave the pile of papers scattered across his desk. Damn, the man he is. It takes every cell in your body to keep you from ripping his clothes off.

"Hey." You say as you thread your fingers through his dark locks, causing him to let out an adorable chuckle.

"Hey," he replies, taking your hand and planting a chaste kiss, like the gentleman he is, in a tender gesture that warms your heart. With his left hand, he cupped your left hip, pulling you against him, using you as a pillow for his head.

Even though you were within kissing distance, the raven-haired man didn't take his eyes off the damned tests. The black pen was clenched in his fist, like a weapon, as he marked the same student's twentieth mistake. You laughed, shaking your head. You were tempted to blow the papers off his desk and slam him against it, but you simply gently pried the pen from his fingers, placing it far away. You leaned over him, speaking in a whisper that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"You've spent enough time with your students. Now give me your hands." You paused for a minute, your lips now close to his ear.

"Those tests don't touch you like I do..."

The raven-haired man bit the inside of his cheek, a shy smile framing his face. Since when had this man become shy? He was the first to slam you onto any flat surface to devour you as nature intended, and now he was blushing at a simple flirt?

"You know, you're beautiful when you're a good teacher," your voice lowered a note, your lips making their way to the base of his neck, a moan escaping Hae-jo when your cold lips land on the part of his most sensitive skin. You begin to playfully nibble the base of his neck. You need to get him in the mood for a sensational fuck.

Your hands slowly lower themselves, landing dangerously on his belt...

Hae-jo quickly stiffens, his face flushing crimson for a second.

You lean closer to his ear, a pleased smile spreading across your face: this was the reaction you wanted to elicit from him. "But you'd look even better shirtless," you plant another kiss at the base of his neck.

"With your cock inside me..." Hae-jo grimaced in amusement, pressing his tongue against his teeth in a clumsy attempt to hold back his expression.

A shiver ran down the raven-haired man's spine, aroused just by the thought of seeing you wet, thighs spread wide on his desk. The sight made his cock harden.

"Be careful what you lust for..." He replied in a husky voice, his eyes boring into yours.

Without warning, Hae-jo pushed you on top of him, your lips locking with a pop as his tongue made its way into your mouth. With his hands, he proceeded to unbutton your pale blue blouse, while you made sure to give him a vigorous kiss. Your tongues had reached another level: understanding. They understood that the more they intertwined, the more aroused you two were, and that's precisely why they didn't stop.

He slid your blouse like it seemed to be made of thin air, revealing the black lace bra you'd worn just for the occasion. You knew his preferences in bed, and in fact, the thing that really drove him crazy was when you wore sexy lingerie.

"Good girl..." He murmured with satisfaction, between a kiss on your neck and a grope of your breasts with his right hand, as you began to undress.

You, in turn, loosened his belt, then slipped off his pants, leaving him in only his black boxers, which already revealed his erection.

With a swift movement, Hae-jo dropped all the tests on the floor to make room on the desk—you had to use it for your indecent acts, after all.

As he did so, Hae-jo sat you down on the desk, a hiss escaping your lips as your thighs made contact with the ice-cold wood. The raven-haired man pushed aside your lingerie; it was a shame to take it off when you put it on especially for him.

A sweet gesture of pure intimacy.

His hands rested on your thighs, spreading them hungrily, before he began to savor your insides. An erotic moan exploded in your throat, while a warm sensation filled your stomach.

He burned with a desire to savor you, you could tell by his gaze, steady and calm, a burning desire to savor everything your body had to offer, exclusively for him. His licks became more and more insistent, your moans increasingly high-pitched, his gaze intensifying as he made you his.

The raven-haired man raised his head, his lips curling into a smug smile at the sight of you. The sight of your body flexing under his touch sent him into ecstasy. He was thirsty for you, wanting to see you moan, whimper for him to pound you. He paused for a moment, his tongue ceasing to explore your clit, slowly withdrawing from your tight interior. A moan died in your throat when his wet tongue slipped from your pussy. One of the fundamental rules of good etiquette was clear: no talking while eating.

"Fuck, you taste better than any drug." He murmured, his voice hoarse with excitement.

You sat down on the desk, closing your thighs, ignoring how Hae-jo had shamelessly spread them before. Your hair was a complete mess, your forehead dripping with sweat, and a feeling of heat still pervaded your inner thighs.

Hae-jo licked your juices from his lips, looking directly into your eyes. A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Now it's your turn to taste me."

He grabbed your hair with a tight fist, pulling you toward him with overwhelming force, knocking you off the desk. He swiftly lowered his boxers, his cock slid out of the fabric almost instantly.

A small scream scratched your throat as he was making you lean your head toward his member, already erect and leaking precum.

"Put it in your mouth." He ordered, as he pushed you down, your lips now an inch from his erection. "Come on, if you want me to give you an A+, you have to suck it. You wouldn't be a good schoolgirl if you didn't."

Damn, that was freaking hot.

He wanted the good schoolgirl, huh? Then you'd show him what a good schoolgirl can do.

You took half of his length into your mouth without warning. Hae-jo let out a surprised cry at your impatience, digging his nails into the chair. Your aggressive grip turned his wrists purple, and the mere thought of not being able to free himself from your grip further aroused him.

You began to swirl your tongue against the sticky walls of his length, bobbing your head up and down in a brutal rhythm. Hae-jo tightened his grip on your hair, causing your eyes to snap shut in pain.

"Haah!" A moan escaped his lips as you continued to suck. Moans scratched Hae-jo's throat, sparks of pleasure coursing through his body as a warm sensation invaded his lower stomach. His nails managed to tear the fabric of the chair he was sitting on, a high-pitched sound echoing through the air, but neither of you heard it.

"I'm almost there..." the raven almost whispered, leaning his head back.

You didn't stop for a second, increasing your pace, relentlessly licking his member like a lollipop.

You had to make him come. It was your duty to satisfy him, to show him how much you needed his body, his lust, but even more, his love.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." the raven man murmured, his legs shaking as if in resistance, but he was at the height of pleasure.

You didn't stop; instead, you continued to lick every inch of him, bringing him to the heights of ecstasy. Haejo tugged on your hair, making you let out a half-scream; he wanted to distract you, but you didn't give up, you continued to lick, swirling your tongue against his skin.

Haejo was now moaning like a slut, almost whimpering with pleasure. The thought of making him whimper gave you an extra push to continue, even as that bastard continued to painfully pull your hair.

"Ah, ah, ahh..." The raven man's moans subsided, his eyes closing for a moment, while his hips flexed and his legs spasmed as he rode out his orgasm. He leaned his head back, leaning it against the wall, his rapid breaths coming out in clouds.

A warm substance slid down your throat, an almost tasteless and terribly sticky nectar.

You loosened your grip on his member and, staring directly into his eyes, swallowed his seed, almost choking on it.

"Are you okay, Professor?" You asked, tilting your head to the right, looking at him innocently, as if you hadn't just licked his cock like it was candy. Hae-jo smirked and settled back in the chair.

"You did good," he murmured, tucking his hair, which had fallen into thin lines of sweat, behind his ear.

"Your mouth fit my cock like a glove... I'm impressed, you deserve an A+ for effort."

A smug smile lit up your face. How much you fucking loved it when he complimented you during and after sex, it was your favorite part. Hearing him mutter things like:

"You're so tight."

"You look so beautiful when you arch your back for me."

"I want you."

Maybe this is the moment you can be fucked by Hae-jo in every possible position until morning.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, ready to be pounded so hard you wouldn't be able to sit cause your asshole will hurt like hell.

"I already know what you're up to." The raven-haired man sneered, pulling a condom from his shirt pocket. He knew you so well, he knew exactly what you wanted.

"You need—"

"Already done." You replied, ready to lie down on the desk, feeling so deprived of sex.

"Always so prepared for me, good girl." He murmured, taking off his shirt; it wasn't necessary, but the thought of seeing you drooling all over his abs sent him into a tailspin.

"Show me how you want to be fucked." He ordered, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for you to settle in.

Like the desperate whore you were, you lay down completely on the desk, face down with your ass in the air. A shiver ran down your spine as Hae-jo's icy hands slipped your skirt, revealing your firm buttocks.

The raven licked his lips, now you were nothing but his meal, and he wanted to devour you at all costs.

He spanked you so hard it made you whimper, a red rash appearing on your buttock.

"Please...put it in me..." You moaned, your head in your arms, your body shaking with anticipation, you couldn't wait any longer.

"As you wish, princess." He whispered in your ear, thrusting his cock without warning into your hole. A pornographic moan scratched your throat as the raven-haired man began to thrust with unrestrained force, penetrating your flesh ever deeper. He began to thrust in and out relentlessly, violently pounding your ass. Erotic moans rasped your throat, your back arched with every thrust.

The wood scraped the floor from the brutal force of his thrusts. If he had continued to thrust his cock so brutally into you, he would have had to repair the desk at his own expense because he would probably have broken it.

Hae-jo leaned over you, his nails digging into your back. A surprised cry escaped your lips. With each thrust, his nails scraped your skin, leaving visible red marks wherever he scratched you.

Raucous moans progressively shook his body, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Every sound you made as he pounded into you was a perverse melody to his ears.

"You're so pathetic when you moan for me." He murmured, gradually sliding his length inside you. . He's so fucking big that all you can do is lay there take it. And of course you prepped yourself, taking on Hae-jo's length without it would be suicide. Or would it? Perhaps another time.

"Nghhh~!" You moaned, gripping the sides of the desk, feeling a familiar warmth invade your body.

Fuck.

You were about to cum.

"Ah, ah-ah, ah, ah..." Your moans became more and more insistent, an erotic melody filling the room. Your bodies fit together perfectly, like a puzzle. Moan after moan, you both realized how much you loved each other, how much you wanted to never leave that position again and stop time to enjoy every single moment.

"Cum for me..." Hae-jo ordered, sparks of pure pleasure coursing through your bodies. You were both on the verge of orgasm. One last thrust from him was all it took, and you both came.

"Ahhh..." A liquid began to slide down your thighs, your back gradually arched, moaning like crazy, your eyes rolling back in their sockets, while hot tears began to wet your cheeks.

It was sublime.

Hae-jo bent over, breathing heavily, his hands remaining buried in your back.

A moan escaped his lips as he pulled his length from your ass, leaving a tremendous emptiness compared to the fullness you'd felt a minute ago.

You quickly fastened your bra, a hiss came out of you when the back of the bra hit the scratches Hae-jo left on your back. You slipped on your pale blue blouse, and adjusted your gray striped skirt.

"Fuck..." You muttered when you noticed the state of the desk: the thin, sticky lines of your juices had created an unusual pattern on it.

You had created a work of art...

Hae-jo cursed under his breath and pointed to the cabinet at the back of the classroom.

"Get the degreaser and a cloth." He ordered, his serious gaze fixed on his clothes, thrown on the floor in a corner of the room, now wrinkled and shabby. While you cleaned up the mess you'd made, Hae-jo put his boxers back on and zipped up his pants, buckled his belt, and began to straighten his tie.

When he was done, he picked up the tests one by one, huffing. He should have thought before carelessly throwing them on the floor. He placed them in his folder and put them back in his brief case.

"Aren't you grading them now?" You asked, tying your hair into a high ponytail.

"I'll grade them early tomorrow morning. Time to go home."

"Just fail 'em all. No students, no tests, no hassle. It couldn't be simpler." You joked, cleaning up the wooden desk.

"I remind you, I'm not such an asshole." He replied coldly, putting on his coat.

When you finished your cleaning and put the degreaser and cloth back in the locker, Haejo noticed you were trying so hard to fix yourself: you were completely soaked, and the fabric of your lingerie was only accentuating your intimate discomfort.

"I know, it's annoying, but don't worry, when we get home, the very first thing we'll do is aftercare." He put his glasses back on and took your hand, leading you out of the institute.

"I can also help you with your tests if you want." You stated as you stepped through the door.

"I love it when you're the available girlfriend~" He murmured, coming closer to you, his hand wrapping around your hip.

"Save the flirting for tonight." You whispered in his ear as you walked to his car.

"Tonight? Do you want another round in bed?" he asked, laughing in your ear.

"If you grade all the tests before I fall asleep..."

"Deal?" he asked, tilting his head toward you.

"Deal!" you exclaimed, wrapping your arm around his neck.

"Hurry up! I have to grade those tests quickly!" he exclaimed, quickening his pace to get to the car as quickly as possible.

You laughed, finding his impatience adorable.

You can't wait either.

Tonight will have been an unforgettable night.

©i99ssvqx. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @dollywons

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HAEJO HCS — SMUT, FLUFF N' ANGST

— Haejo always wakes up early in the morning, making sure you'll have a delicious meal served right in time for breakfast. He is a skilled cook to the point he doesn't need measuring cups or timers, he works by eye and his plates are still surprisingly delicious.

He doesn't just cook something, but creates your favorite recipe from scratch, perhaps one that requires a lot of time and skill for exemple, fresh stuffed pasta, a complicated layer cake, an authentic ethnic dish.

— Haejo has a switch for rage, inherited from the chaos of his childhood. During heated arguments, his voice rises to the point of shouting, and he vents his anger by breaking nonessential objects (a glass, a plate, anything that isn't valuable or yours). He's never touched you or threatened you physically. His hands, which he holds onto you in normal moments, are the only thing he holds steady, demonstrating that, despite his anger, your safety is his only self-imposed limit.

Afterward, he doesn't apologize directly, but he carefully picks up the broken glass or porcelain shards from the plate he's thrown on the floor. When you go to bed, he'll hold you close, resting his head on your shoulder. It's his way of saying, "I feel like shit for what I did, I won't force you to forgive me," even though he already knows you'll forgive him no matter how harsh he's been on you.

— He seems cold, but he melts if you compliment him too much. This man is accustomed to looks of contempt, not admiration. Every time you pay him a genuine compliment—about his smile, his intellect, his protectiveness—his first instinct is to stiffen and look away. He doesn't know how to accept kindness. The blush? It's an internal struggle he loses every time: the heat quickly spreads to his neck (which is easier to hide) and then rises to his ears, forcing him to touch his mullet to mask the gesture.

— You are the only person who can shatter his composure with a single gesture. A kiss on the cheek, an unexpected caress... his heart skips a beat and then begins beating irregularly. If you're in a situation where you can hear him (for example, he's leaning against your chest), he'll excuse himself. If he's hugging you, he'll hold you tighter to hide the trembling and the betraying sound of his feasty heart.

— He's good at hand-wrapping cute little gifts, like little paper bouquets and sweet letters. He knows your tastes and preferences well: have you been staring at a jewelry display for a while? The next day, that particular piece of jewelry you were eyeing is carefully wrapped and casually placed on your vanity.

— He loves taking you out to dinner. Romantic evenings are his forte, Haejo always chooses Michelin-starred restaurants. Not only does he book, but he always requests the best or private table, perhaps specifying a particular detail, for example a small comfortable table near the window perhaps with a breathtaking view, just for you. He ensures that the staff is attentive and professional but not intrusive. His goal is to see you completely comfortable and delighted.

And, like...I mean, can you imagine him with his messy mullet, dressed in total black, the strong scent of his cologne filling the air, mixed with the faint light coming from the window which enchants his features, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as his gaze is fixed on you while he's man spreading as he's sitting on the chair? Chef kiss.

— Haejo is a chronic yearner. He doesn't vocalize his desire often, but his hands and eyes tell a different story. If he wants you, he won't be subtle—he’ll just watch you, his eyes dark and heavy, tracking your movements across the room until you feel the heat of his gaze. He’ll make sure you know exactly what he’s thinking, letting his desire build slowly until the tension in the room is suffocating. He craves connection so fiercely that he uses the look alone to remind you that you belong to him.

— 6.7 inches soft 7.6 inches hard, the base of it is #b89d8a while his tip is #d1af97. He gets hard easily.

— His possessiveness is physical. He doesn't just want you; he wants to claim you. Expect deep, purposeful marks (bruises, hickeys) left in hidden spots. He wants you to feel his presence long after he's gone, and he wants the silent reminder of his claim to be the first thing you see when you wake up. It’s an act of selfish love—a way to ensure that he can’t be forgotten.

— This man is a mischief in bed: he loves pulling you're hair, digging his nails into your skin just to hear you squirm, whispering the most dirty words into your're ear as his fingers move in and out into your wet cunt just to feel you climax under his touch. He takes pleasure in biting every sensitive spot on your body and thrusting into you till' your're cumming and begging him for more.

— He's even surprisingly loud in bed, he'll moan, whimper and grunt, talk...its never quiet with him, unless you two need to be quiet. When you want it from the back and Hae-jo pounds into your're round ass, the sight of you moaning like mad into the pillow forces him to cockily ask "oh you like that, huh?" as he begins to pound you even harder "look at how that solid round ass is arching for me, i could never get enough of this"

— 1ST CHAMPION IN MAKING OUT. This man needs a medal when it comes for oral sex. His tongue slides into your mouth, interlinking with yours, exploring every corner of your're mouth without shame. He makes out with you as if he's been starved for years. He bites your're lips, peppers hickeys down your're jaw then your're neck. Its almost obligatory for him to slam you against a wall, a couch or a piece forniture everytime you two have a make-out session, always dousing his strenght to make sure you don't get injured.

— SHOWER SEX

pairing : Hae-jo (mr plankton) x wife!reader

tags: smut, smut with a little plot, oneshot, dirty talking, overstimulation, unprotected sex, sex in the shower, rough sex, p in v, degradation kink(?), hair pulling, cunnilingus

summary : After a long day, you hop inside the shower to ease your nerves, little do you know your husband Hae-jo will turn this shower of yours into a satisfying fucking session.

word count : 828

A moan escapes your lips as Hae-jo slams you against the cold, wet tiles of the shower, his legs wrapped hungrily around your hips, holding you still with an overwhelming force so strong it almost knocks you onto the cold, slippery ceramic shower tray.

The warm water spraying from the shower head reduces your hair to thin, tightly woven strands that cling perfectly to the bare skin of your bodies. Hae-jo's obsidian-black hair gracefully frames his cheeks, now red as ripe cherries. The dark strands of his hair envelop his face like wet silk, his dark eyes gradually losing themselves in yours as he leans toward your neck, the droplets of water sinking into his neck and the straight line of his jaw.

He seemed the embodiment of virtue, but every look promised sin.

With surgical precision, he begins to leave a trail of chaste kisses at the base of your neck, then begins to suck, leaving visible purple marks wherever his lips land. His legs tighten around you, preventing any attempt at escape or protest.

You'd gotten into the shower to clean up after your first round; it was one of your sacred rituals after making love: he washed you lovingly, and you, in turn, washed him with care, intimacy, and devotion. But that ritual can wait for tonight...

Moans part your lips as Hae-jo begins to descend, shamelessly marking every corner of your body, causing mauve "flowers" to bloom on your chest, especially on your breasts,as he lightly nibbles on your now hard and turgid nipples. His lips begin to make their way towards your belly, another moan parting your lips, forcing you to bite the inside of your cheek forcefully.

Haejo leans into your privates, raising his face to take note of your reaction, the corners of his lips curling into a pleased smile.

"May I?" he asks, searching for a gesture of approval, or even a hint of it in your eyes. Trembling with excitement, you nod.

After your approval, Haejo gradually loosens his grip on your legs, then lets go completely, visible red streaks dominating your thighs where his grip was strongest.

The raven-haired man suddenly kneels, the thud of his knees against the shower tray vibrating in the air for a few moments, your eyes widening at the loud noise... but also at the anticipation.

When he began licking your pussy with his wet tongue, nothing mattered anymore.

Your moans grew louder and more insistent as the raven's tongue explored your insides gradually, licking up your juices, then fully inserting his tongue into your already wet pussy.

When he pulled it out, he began licking rapidly, as if it were a need, or rather, a duty, to satisfy you.

Your moans grew louder as Hae-jo continued to lick you insistently.

A fire blazed at the base of your inner thights, slowly spreading throughout your body.

"Don't, don't stop...I'm, I'm so close!" You managed to mutter between a moan and a scream, pressing your head against the wall, panting profusely. Your hand gripped his hair roughly, making him groan in return.

You came on his face, your juices slowly washed away by the water pouring from the shower head.

The raven-haired man raised his head, his gaze fixed on yours as his tongue licked your juices from his face.

"Your pussy was so delicious, darling~"

Hae-jo stood up almost gracefully, pushing himself up, his hands tightly gripping your thighs, a satisfied grin coloring his face.

Once he was standing in all his majesty, his hands wrapped around your hips, and without warning, he dug his nails into your flesh, sneering as he heard you squeal at the touch.

"Satisfied?" he asked mockingly, continuing to dig his nails into your hips, his legs wrapped around your body again, and he pulled you closer to him.

"No, no, fuck... I want you, fuck, I want you, I want you on the top of me, under me, and especially inside me..." You murmured, your eyes shining with desire.

"As you wish, princess." He replied, his eyes also glimmering with desire, the mere thought of piercing right through your perfect tight pussy made his cock harder.

He pressed against your stomach to ensure a good entrance, then began to thrust into you, the tip of his cock pushing deeper and deeper inside your wet walls.

He easily penetrated your already wet cunt, pressing himself against you, each thrust becoming more insistent. Your moans filled the air, growing louder as his cock slid in and out of your tight interior.

You moaned, now on the verge of orgasm, your body arching back progressively from the stimulation.

"Can I cum inside?" You nodded and felt his seed slide down your thighs.

Hae-jo pressed against you, his strong arms wrapping around you as his seed coated your walls, while you came too.

"I love you, Hae-jo." You moaned as his cock slid out of you.

"I love you too, princess." He replied huskily, before giving you a final kiss on the lips.

©i99ssvqx. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @dollywons