#digital note-taking tablets | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thetxtdevil · 2 months ago

Text

Pediatric Surgeon *TXT's Anatomy*

Doctor!Soobin x Doctor!Reader

summary: Dr. Soobin requests your assistance on a case, prompting you to prepare for the surgery in a different type of way.

content: smut, hospital setting (if you don't like anything correlating to blood and anything medical don't read), descriptions of surgery, female reader, perv.reader, perv.dom.soobin, wet dream, degrading, mutual masturbation, panty fucking, fingering, panty stealing implied

word count: 2.7k

The early morning sun glowed with an orange hue through the hospital’s corridor windows as you stepped into the bustling building. The scent of antiseptic is thick in the air, yet with a deep breath, you take in a rich, comforting scent from the coffee shop built within the nook of the entrance. Like a moth to a flame, the roasted beans lead you to the cashier, ordering your mocha latte. As you pull your wallet out, a hand is roughly placed on top of yours, “Can I get an iced americano, and I’ll pay for hers too.” The warm, husky tone of the voice makes your head tilt your head up to see a man whom you unfortunately don’t see often, Choi Soobin, a Pediatric Surgeon. He shyly glances at you while taking back his credit card. A slight turn of his lips causes a cascade of his cute features to show, dimples indenting his blushed cheeks, pushing up his dark eyebags, which were almost covered by his thick-framed glasses. Irises that couldn’t help but glance down at your lips, which also turned into a smile. “Thank you.” The man opens his mouth to say something, but only a huff of air comes out. He avoids eye contact with you, hands reaching out for both freshly made coffees, handing one to you. “What? What is it?” You say walking with him up to the surgical floor.

Soobin sips his cold drink, his eyes jumping everywhere except you, deep in thought. “I-I bought your coffee to ask you something. Well, because I am a nice guy, but—” You quirk an eyebrow, watching him fidget with the fluffy texture of his coat, “I have this patient, and I want your opinion.”

You nod. “I’ll take a look after my rounds, is that okay?”

“That’s perfect. Thank you so much, Dr. y/l/n.” His eyes light up. Soobin was so respectful to you, even though he’s been in the field longer than you. You wondered if he was like this to every co-worker or just to you.

You situate the stethoscope around your neck and scan the patient list on your tablet. The digital clock above the nurses' station read 7:47 AM, it was getting to the time to check on your patients, as the nurses line up to give report, and other occupations stand and wait to speak if needed. You take note of new information about each patient, keeping tabs with every word the nurse says to you. Focused on the pile of charting and prognoses, you lost track of how many patients you had. “Alright, who else?”

“Doctor, those are all your patients.” A social worker says.

“Oh… really?” You look back at your notes, and you see that your schedule has enough free time to fit in Soobin’s patient, if needed. “Well then, let’s get back to work.”

You’re also surprised when you tilt your coffee cup up to only receive a few lukewarm droplets from the lid. That's when you see the tall man turn around the corner, his brown fluffy jacket switched into a white lab coat. Soobin’s clean dress shoes squeak as he stops in his place, noticing you staring. Blush creeping on his face, the color of a rose gets darker the closer he gets to you. “Hello again,” you say in a sultry tone.

“H-hi, here is the patient’s chart. She’s darling, she can’t talk as much, but she already is so kind and calm.”

You couldn’t help but feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach while listening to Soobin talk about his patient. He shows how good of a doctor he is with his patient care.

Memories flood your mind, thinking about your days as an intern. Soobin was a few years ahead in the program, already working on his specialty. You remember fellow surgeons giving him shit for being shy and wanting to be in pediatrics. Small-minded fools underestimated the specialty, thinking it’s just child’s play. That is, until everyone had a rotation on the floor getting yelled at by multiple parents, then to work on miniature anatomy. The thing that really changed your classmate’s perspective on Soobin was his argumentative skills; everyone hates family confrontation, but Soobin knew how to put parents in their place when questioning their child’s diagnosis. You’re happy that he’s well-respected these days, yet still has that shy demeanor.

However, you’re currently finding yourself having a hard time reading the various numbers from the blood test as you feel his eyes lingering on you. Usually, doctors will continue to talk or take the time to close their eyes for a power nap while their colleague looks over their work, but this wasn’t the case. In your peripheral vision, you could feel his eyes taking in your form. The strawberry flavor from your gloss doesn’t help your habit of biting your lip, concluding the child's prognosis.

Soobin’s intense stare falters, and he lets out a sigh. “I don’t like the way this is going,” he mumbles. You hum in confusion, urging him to explain, “Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”

You stare into the man’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Soobin. She needs a heart transplant.” You click out of the patient’s files.

The tall doctor lets out a heavy sigh, eyes for the first time off of you, now closed as a sign of thought. His shoulders were tense, body leaned against the desk. The weight of his stress filled the air; you so badly wanted to hug him. “I’m going to have to call the organ transplant company,” his head tilts, eyes meeting yours again, “you’ll join me for the surgery.” Stunned at his assertiveness, he’s not asking, he’s not wanting help, he just wants you.

“I’ve never worked on small hearts, only… big hearts.”

Soobin chuckles at your comment, “Don’t worry, I’ll do most of the work, but I can teach you.”

Your eyes light up, you were never one to let down a learning opportunity, especially if the teacher is as hot as Dr. Soobin. You stop to admire the doctor before you blurt out, “Am I out of line to say that I can not believe you’re not married with a bunch of kids?” A blush burns across your face, realizing what you had just said.

Soobin’s eyebrow furrowed, head tilting, trying to digest what you had said, “If you were still my intern, yes. However, you are my fellow attending, so all I have to say is, that’s a weird thing to say.”

“I mean, come on, look at you, you’re—“ you pause.

“Pretty?” He grins.

“Yeah, it seems like you know that already-” this is going way out of line, “You'd think taking care of all those sick children, you wouldn't want to do anything with making one..." Pressing your lips shut, imagining them to magically lock into place before you get yourself into trouble.

Soobin stands there a bit, his usual soft, round eyes now glaring at you. Shaking his head slightly, he walks closer to you, whispering in your ear, “Sweetheart, you couldn't be more wrong."

Watching the doctor walk off, you shake your head out of disbelief, “I need to take a nap after all that.”

%%%

Your heart beats loudly in your ear, nerves fill your senses as you scrub your arms until they hurt from the sterilizing. Warmth hits your face behind your surgical mask with your one last sigh of confidence. Staring at the operating table through the window, you open the door to the room.

“Alright, everybody, we have a patient here for a heart transpl-” stopped mid-speech, you’re struck with an empty bed before you, “where’s my patient?”

Rushing into the dimly lit operating room, you don’t question the quiet surroundings. Worry bubbles up in your stomach now, noticing you’re in a completely deserted room. “What the hell?” Have I gone crazy? Is there a room full of workers waiting for me in another room? Or is there even a surgery scheduled?”

You stood there like a fool, breaking the sterile field as your hands grazed the lonely table. Suddenly, a heavy weight encapsulates you, arms on your sides, pushing you against the surface in front of you. “Glad you could make it, Doctor,” said a familiar, warm, husky voice near your ear.

You gasp feeling the man’s hips grind against your ass. “Soobin w-what are you doing? I need to get to surgery.” His lips trail hungry kisses along the exposed part of your neck. Your warm sighs made it harder to breathe in your mask, ripping it away and turning towards the man, capturing his lips against yours.

“You have no surgery,” Soobin tugs harshly at your scrub gown, tearing away your pants with it, “however, I’m going to keep you busy.”

You were fully exposed while the other doctor kept his protective gear on. He holds you up, putting you on top of the operating table, then he pulls your legs apart. You could feel your juices dripping down your slit, causing a predatory stare eluminate in Soobin’s eyes. The once cozy, shy guy you knew him as was gone. His teeth bite his bottom lip as his gloved hand runs down your shaking thigh, dipping his fingers into your folds. Whipping your head back, you whine from the weird sensation of the smooth texture of the glove touching you. Playing with your folds, teasing your hole, you jerk your hips out of agony.

Soobin’s work of breathing is fast, warm against your lips, “What a little slut,” a finger slides into you, “but you know that already,” another finger, “you don’t think I notice how you stare at me?” Three fingers slip inside your cunt painfully stretching you out, each drag was smooth yet loud from your arousal. Tears are prickling in your eyes out of pleasure.

“Please, Soobin, please, please…”

Tightly shut eyes relax to flutter open, expecting to see the scrubbed pediatric surgeon and his fingers inside you; instead, your vision clears up to a dusty, dimly lit on-call room. You groan, fist hitting against the firm bed, losing that addictive sexual pleasure. Cursing yourself for coming up with such a lewd dream. Turning in your bed to reach for your work phone, you catch a silhouette of someone across from you. He sat there, still, yet his breathing looked a little erratic. Your eyes trail down, the sparse lighting from the window highlights the prominent veins on his arms, down to his grip on his bulge.

“Soobin, how long have you been there?”

The man shifts in his seat, the grip on his cock tightens. Spit builds up in your mouth, noticing the outline of the head underneath his trousers.

“I came in to get some rest before our surgery, but-“ his plush lips parted, eyes taking in your form lying pretty on the cushion. “I got preoccupied.”

You look at him funny, not knowing how much of the dream was revealed in reality. “What now?”

Soobin once again sighs, head tilting back as he lets his hand go under his pants. You swear you were drooling like a hungry dog watching the scene take place. The bobbing of his Adam’s apple, eyebrows scrunched up, perfect heart-shaped lips releasing whimpers. If he’s going to play dirty, you will too. You slide your hand under your light blue pants, snaking your fingers past the lacey hem of your panties. The tips of your digits push into you, collecting your wetness to come up and circle your clit. Soobin’s sharp eyes watch the way you roll back in pleasure, his dick twitches at the sight. “Shit-” he curses to himself, he was warned about you and he was falling for it. Your eyes wince over to him, your fingers tented your pants, movements evident. “Let me help,” Soobin says in a huff.

“Mmm, I don’t know… You watched me sleeping like a perv.” You say with a smile, all while you lift your hip into your hand.

Soobin launches himself from his chair towards your bed. Head hovering over yours, you couldn’t help but get turned on by his warm breath fanning over your face. “You don’t realize that I know you were having a wet dream,” your movement comes to a halt, “about me.”

You side-eyed the man. There’s no way he’d know unless you—“Soobin, please, Soobin.” He mocks you. The room was dark, but you both knew how red you’ve become. The doctor’s hand cups your face, thumb soothing your blushed cheek. Leaning down to your ear, and whispers, “Now can I help you?”

Your slow nod signals Soobin to go forward with his intentions. Sounds of rustling movements and creaking of the cheap cot had your hair standing on your arms. Light breaths paired with hums from the man get closer to your lips. The plush flesh molds into you; it was warm and addictive, just like in the dream. Deepening the kiss until the point where all the air rushes out of each other's lungs. Although he was battling with himself, Soobin breaks apart from you, “Let's do something more.” his fingers curl around your waistband, tugging down your pants to reveal your cute panties. A sigh slips from his pink lips, big brown eyes studying the detail of lace outlining the light pink material. You gasp feeling his thumb rubbing your sensitive cunt causing your wetness to soak through the material. Watching the man’s eyes glued to your pussy and play with it, you lean up to leave trails of kisses down his neck. Unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers trace his abs, this only caused you to become impatient, “Soobin, please,” you pause, realizing he was teasing you just like in the dream, “please do something.”

The man pulls down his trousers along with his underwear, fully exposing his fat cock to you. Every vein stuck out, pulsating in desperate need to be touched. Fat tip, red and covered in precum, showing that he teased himself too. His fingers never stopped playing with you, for some reason, your everyday underwear put the doctor into a trance. “C-can I fuck your panties?” The giggle you let out made Soobin blush for a second, but it told him to continue.

He guided his tip inbetween your cunt and the material, you arousal coating his dick made his whole body shiver. Slowly, he thrusts his tip against the fabric, hitting your clit every time. Soobin’s eyebrows knit together, looking at you falling apart, your mouth gaping, a sheen of sweat collecting at your neck. A jolt of electricity, resulting in your thighs twitching every time your sensitive nub gets hit with friction. Both of you turned on not only by the sensations but how his dick poked out from your ruined panties, the bulge was wet and delicious. Both moaning loudly, you know you were going to get caught again doing your “special naps” in the on-call room.

Soobin pants, pecking your neck before stuttering out, “D-does this f-feel nice? Do you want more?” Before you could say anything, you feel the man’s long fingers venture under your panties, tracing your hole. The drag of his digits paired nicely with the attention he gave your clit. He curled his fingers searching for gummy spots, making you squirm underneath him. Once he had you drooling, going dumb to the point of your climax, his movements sped up. Built up pleasure released, harshly clenching around the man’s cock. He twitched, thrust becoming more erratic, Soobin’s whole body clenches, emptying his load, making your panties useless.

You whine, “Soobin- look what you did.” The man lying on you shakes his head, basically telling you that he didn’t care. You roll your eyes, your hands grooming his soft, dark locks. He kept his obsession with playing with you until you got whiny again. Head lifting from your chest creeps down to your pussy, ridding the fabic. Soobin’s big eyes look up, “Call one of your roommates to get you new ones because you’re not getting these back.” He smirks before shoving his face into you, tongue lapping up your juices and cleaning up the mess he left on you.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil 🩺

taglist: @blue-moon-514, @naoristerling, @inkigayocamman, @izzyy-stuff, @biteyoubiteme, @saejinniestar

#txt devil #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt smut #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt x you #txt x y/n #soobin x reader #soobin smut #soobin fanfic #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #choi soobin smut #choi soobin x reader #medical txt #doctor!txt

380 notes · View notes

seraphicby · 10 days ago

Text

Office Desire (Seoyeon)

Synopsis: You are a 21 year old working as Junior Writer at some Digital Agency. Three women, Ms. Saerom from marketing, Ms. Eunbi from sales, and Seoyeon as new Junior Strategist, keep pulling you out of your bubble. They bring teasing, tension, and feelings you're not sure you're ready to deal with.

Lee Saerom / Kwon Eunbi / Yoon Seoyeon

13.6k+

A weekend with Seoyeon, ignites a shy spark that changes everything.

It's a Wednesday, the office sounds with its usual routine, keyboards clacking, coffee machine humming.

During lunch, you find Seoyeon in the pantry, steeping her chamomile tea, her movements slower than usual.

"Hey," you say, grabbing a water bottle, keeping your tone light despite the way your heart speeds up. She jumps slightly, then smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Hi," she replies, her voice soft, almost fragile.

"Busy day?" You ask, trying to keep it normal, but her fingers tremble as she stirs her tea.

"Yeah, the usual," she said calm, but her fingers tremble as she stirs her tea.

You lean against the counter, "You okay? You seem... tired." You hesitate, not wanting to obvious, but her quiet feels heavier than her usual.

She glances down, her smile fading. "Just... didn't sleep well," she mumbles, clutching her cup, "Lots on my mind."

Her phone buzzes on the counter, and she flinches, quickly silencing it. You catch the name on the screen. Yunho. before she flips it over, her face tightening.

"Everything alright?" you ask, your voice gentle, sensing something's wrong.

She nods too quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah... my boyfriend."

It lands like a small shock, though you'd heard rumors she is had a close friend outside work.

"It's fine," she adds, but her voice wavers, and she changes the subject. "Um, I'm working on that strategy deck. Could you... maybe take a look later? If you're free?"

Your heart lifts at the chance to spend time with her. "Sure," you say, maybe too eagerly. "After work? I can stay late."

Her smile returns, small but genuine. "Thanks. That'd help me a lot." She grabs her tea and heads out, her phone buzzing again, unanswered.

That evening, the office empties, leaving a quiet sound.

You're wrapping up emails when Seoyeon waves you over to her desk, her space a cozy clutter of notes and sketches.

"Okay, here's what I've got," she says, nervous, pulling up her pitch strategy deck on her tablet.

You sit close, her shoulder brushing yours, her chamomile scent calming despite the tension in her posture.

You go through her slides, offering feedback, and she listens intently, scribbling notes, her shy laughs easing the mood when you tease her about her overly detailed graphs.

But as you work, her phone keeps buzzing, Yunho's name flashing each time.

She ignores it at first, but by the third call, she sighs, her shoulders slumping.

"Sorry," she mutters, silencing it again. "He's... been like this all day."

"You don't have to answer," you say carefully, sensing her discomfort, "If you don't want to," you add.

She bites her lip, her eyes glistening for a moment before she blinks it away. "It's... complicated," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yunho's not... he gets upset if I don't pick up. Says I'm ignoring him." She pauses, fidgeting with her pen.

"We've been fighting a lot lately. He doesn't like me staying late, or... I don't know, being me, sometimes."

Your chest tightens, anger flaring at the thought of her possessive boyfriend, "That doesn't sound fair," you say, keeping your tone soft. "You deserve to do what makes you happy."

She looks at you, your words hit something deep, "Thanks," she whispers, "I just... I don't know what to do sometimes."

Her phone buzzes again, shattering the moment. She flinches, standing quickly, her face flushed, "I-I should go," she stammers, grabbing her bag.

"But... can we do this again? The work stuff, I mean," her smile is shaky but hopeful, and you nod, giving her space.

"Anytime," you say, standing too.

She waves awkwardly, heading out, her quiet vulnerability drawing you in.

You take your time packing up, zipping your laptop bag and checking your desk before head home.

You leave the office, the cool night air hitting you as you step outside. The street is quiet, lit by streetlamps, with only a few coworkers lingering near the parking lot.

You're about to head home when you spot Seoyeon a short distance away, standing under a lamp. She's not alone, a man, tall and broad-shouldered, is with her, his posture firm.

You can't hear their words, but the argument is clear in their body language, his hands gesturing sharply, her arms crossed, her head turned slightly away. It's intense but quiet, like they're trying not to make a scene.

Your gut twists, this must be Yunho, her boyfriend, the one who's been dial up her phone.

You hesitate, your instinct urging you to approach, to check if she's okay. Seoyeon's face, even from this distance, looks drained, her shoulders slumped, the weight of a long workday and now this argument etched into her expression.

You take a step forward, your heart picking up, but before you can get closer, Yunho notices you. His eyes narrow, and he grabs Seoyeon's wrist, pulling her back a step, putting distance between you and them.

The move is quick, possessive, and Seoyeon stumbles slightly, her face flashing with frustration, maybe even embarrassment.

"Hey," you call out softly, trying to keep your voice calm, non-threatening, but loud enough to reach them.

"Seoyeon, you okay?" your concern slips out, natural but risky, and you stop a few paces away, not wanting to escalate things.

Seoyeon turns, her eyes meeting yours. For a moment, she looks like she wants to say something, her lips parting.

Yunho cuts in, his voice low but sharp, "We're fine," he says, his grip on her wrist tightening briefly before he lets go, "This is not your concern."

Seoyeon is quiet, her gaze dropping to the ground, her hands clenching into fists. She looks exhausted, not just physically, but emotionally, like she's tired of work, of her boyfriend, of everything.

"I'm... I'm okay," she says finally, her voice small, "Just... go home, okay?" Her words are meant for you, but they feel forced, like she's trying to defuse the situation.

You nod slowly, "Alright," you say, keeping your voice steady, "Text me if you need anything, yeah?"

You turn to walk away, feeling Yunho is stare on your back. As you head down the street. You're not sure what’s going on, but the way she looked, trapped, you want to protect her, even if you don't know how.

Meanwhile, Seoyeon stands under the flickering streetlamp, her arms crossed tightly

"Who was that guy?" Yunho asked demands, his tone low but laced with accusation, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer.

"Some coworker you're suddenly so close with? You're out here late, ignoring my calls, and now he's acting like he's your fucking savior? do you slept with him?!"

Seoyeon flinches, her exhaustion making it harder to keep her composure, "Yunho, stop," she says, her voice soft but firm.

"He's just a friend from work. We were reviewing a project, that's all," She rubs her wrist where his grip had been.

Yunho scoffs, running a hand through his hair, his frustration visible, "A friend, huh? You think I'm stupid? I see how you act around guys like that. Smiling, playing all shy. You're always pulling this shit when I'm not around." His words sting, each one blabbing away at her, and she feels the familiar weight of his control tightening around her.

"I'm not doing anything," she snaps, her voice rising slightly before she catches herself, glancing around to make sure no one's nearby. "I'm working late because I have to, Yunho. You know how much this job means to me. Why can't you trust me?"

He steps closer, looming over her, his voice dropping to a cold whisper, "Because you're always giving me reasons not to. You're too close to these guys, Seoyeon. I'm not an idiot. You're mine, and I don't like sharing."

His hand reaches for her arm again, but she pulls back, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt.

"I'm not your property," she says, her voice trembling, the words spilling out before she can stop them.

"I'm trying to make this easy, but why always you make it so hard, Yunho" Her eyes glisten, but she blinks back tears, refusing to let them fall.

She's too tired for this, too worn down to keep fighting the same fight.

Yunho's face hardens, but there's a flicker of unease in his eyes, "Fine," he says, stepping back, his voice clipped. "Go home. We'll talk later. But don't think I'm letting this go." He turns, heading to his car parked nearby, leaving her standing alone under the lamp.

Seoyeon watches him go, her breath shaky, her hands clenched into fists, she wipes her eyes, and starts walking to the bus stop, her steps slow, her heart heavy.

That night, you're at Saerom's place, ringing her bell.

"Hi cutie..." she pulls you inside, her lips on yours before the door fully closes, her hands tugging at your shirt, her body pressing close, her skirt riding up to reveal smooth thighs.

Your hands roaming her curves, your cock hardening as she leads you to her bedroom.

She's on her knees first, sucking you off with that expert precision, her tongue swirling around your tip, her moans vibrating against your cock as she takes you deep.

"Fuck, Ms. Saerom," you hiss, her eyes glinting up at you, and you grip her hair, thrusting gently into her mouth.

You called to her place not for slow, she pushes you onto the bed, straddling you, her panties discarded, her pussy already wet as she sinks down onto your cock.

"Fill me, cutie," she moans, her voice raw, her hips rocking hard, her tight walls gripping you like she’s starving for it.

You fuck her fast, your hands on her hips, her ass bouncing as she rides you, her moans loud and unrestrained.

She's nonstop, her pussy clenching tight, begging for more, and you give it, flipping her over to pound her from behind, yanking her hair.

She gasps, "Harder... fuck, yes!" Her body shakes, her juices soaking you as she comes, her walls milking your cock.

You pull out just in time, your cum shooting across her back, hot and thick, as she moans, "Good my cutieboy," collapsing onto the sheets, panting.

You both lie there, catching your breath. Saerom rolls onto her side, her body coating sweat.

"You're too good at this, cutie," she says, her voice softer now, her hand tracing idle patterns on your chest.

The aftermath usually leaves you both in silence, but tonight, your mind is elsewhere, and Saerom notices. "What's up? You're not usually this... quiet."

You hesitate, but "It's... Seoyeon," you say, your voice low. Saerom's eyebrow arches, her curiosity peeking, but she stays quiet, letting you talk.

"It's not like I want to fuck her, but... I do care about her," you admit, the words honest from you. "She's got this boyfriend, Yunho, and he's… bad news... I mean. Possessive, jealous. Saw them arguing outside the office lately, and she looked so... tired. Like she's broken."

Saerom's expression changes, her usual playful edge replaced by something more thoughtful. She props herself up on her elbow, looking at you closely. "Sounds like trouble," she says.

"Seoyeon's sweet, quiet... doesn't seem like the type to handle a guy like that well," she pauses, her eyes searching yours. "You’re not just crushing on her, are you? You're, like, worried worried."

You nod, rubbing your neck, "Yeah. I don’t know what to do. She's not opening up, but I can tell she's struggling. I just... want to help her, you know?"

Saerom sighs, lying back, staring at the ceiling, "That's messy, cutie. A girl with a bad boyfriend's not your job to fix, but..." She glances at you, her smirk returning, but softer.

"You've got a good heart. Just don't get yourself in too deep, okay? She might lean on you, and then what? You're already playing with me and whatever you had with Eunbi." Her tone's teasing, but there's a warning there.

"It's not like that with Seoyeon. It's... different. She's different," you say, your voice quiet.

Saerom chuckles, her hand resting on your thigh, her touch light, "Sure, cutie. Just watch out. Girls like her, sweet, broken, they pull you in without trying." She leans over, kissing you softly.

"Now, get some rest. You're mine again next time I need you." She winks, but her words about Seoyeon stick in your mind.

You dress up and head home, you're wondering how you can reach her without forcing anything with Seoyeon.

Thursday morning, you step into the office, the sound of keyboards and coffee machine hissing in the background as usual.

Seoyeon arrives, late for her usual punctuality, your chest tightens. Her eyes are puffy, her smile strained as she sets up, avoiding your gaze. She looks drained, like the fight with Yunho took more than she can hide.

At a break, you find her in the pantry, steeping her chamomile tea, her movements firm.

"Hey," you say softly, grabbing a water bottle, watching her closely. "You okay? Last night looked... tough."

She freezes, then forces a smile, her voice barely a whisper. "Yeah, just... a misunderstanding. Yunho gets like that sometimes." Her eyes stay on her tea, her fingers gripping the cup too tightly. "Sorry if it was weird. I didn't mean to drag you into it."

"You didn't," you say gentle. "I was just worried. You don't have to deal with that alone, you know. If you need to talk..." You try off, hoping she feels your openness, not wanting to push too hard.

She glances up, her eyes softening, a flicker of gratitude breaking through her guard, "Thanks," she whispers, "I'll... be okay."

Her phone buzzes on the counter, Yunho's name flashing, and she flinches, silencing it quickly. The moment fades, and she grabs her tea, heading back to her desk, leaving you with the feeling she's far from okay.

The week crawls to an end, Seoyeon's still quiet this week, her puffy eyes, her forced smiles, and the way she flinches at Yunho's name on her phone screen during all day, all time, not giving her to break.

The weekend coming, you're at the local market, a large open-air setup with stalls of fresh groceries and the chatter of shoppers filling the air. It's your routine stocking up on groceries for another week, and you need a break after long weekday.

"Hey... is that you?"

Seoyeon's voice you can hear behind.

You turn, she is there, standing a few steps away, a basket of vegetables in her hand. She's in a simple sweater and jeans, her usual bun hair, her face bare of makeup, making her look softer than her office looks.

"Oh hi," you say, a smile breaking through your surprise.

"Didn't expect to see you here." Your heart nerves seeing her outside work, alone.

She smiles small, stepping closer, "Same. Just... needed to get out, groceries, me time, that kind of thing." Her voice is forced to sound okay.

She glances at your bag, then back at you, "What about you? Big cooking plans?"

You laugh, holding up an avocado. "If 'big plans' means not burning toast, then yeah, maybe."

She giggles, the sound light, easing the tension in her face for a moment, and it warms you, like you’ve done something right.

She shifts her basket, "I was thinking of hitting the mall after this, maybe catch a movie. Just... something to do."

Her eyes flick to yours, like she's hoping something, "You... doing anything else today?"

Your chest tightens, catching the hint in her words. She's alone, reaching out, and the thought of spending time with her, feels like a chance you can't let slip.

"Not really," you say, "Just this, then probably back home to stare at my fridge. A movie sounds way better, though. Want company?"

Her eyes widen slightly, then soften at her face, "Really? I mean... yeah, that'd be nice." She tucks strand of her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit you've noticed.

"I don't want to drag you into my boring day, but..." she murmurs.

"You're not dragging me," you say quickly.

"I'd rather hang out than argue with my avocados."

"Okay, then," she says, her voice warmer.

"Let's finish up here, then head to the mall?" you asked.

She nods, and the two of you fall into step, wandering through the market, picking out produce, chatting about nothing, work, food, her love for spicy ramen.

You and her walk side by side, your reusable bag heavy with groceries, her basket brimming with vegetables and a pack of spicy ramen she insisted on grabbing after your teasing.

As you near your place, you glance at your bag, "Hey, uh, mind if I put this stuff to my place first? it's near there, just quick stop," you ask, rubbing the back of your neck.

Seoyeon nods, her eyes soft. "Sure, no problem," she says, her voice gentle, "I'm coming too, wondering what's your place like,"

You reach your building, a modest midrise, and lead her up the stairs to your unit.

As you unlock your apartment, "Sorry if it's a mess," you say, half-laughing, pushing the door open, "I wasn't exactly expecting company."

Seoyeon steps inside, her basket in hand, and glances around with a small smile. Your place isn't that bad, a few books scattered open on the coffee table, a jacket slung over the couch, some dishes in the sink

"It's nice," she says, put her basket groceries on the counter, "Feels... cozy. Don't worry about it."

"Cozy's one way to put it," you say, grinning, as you head to the kitchen to unpack your groceries.

She follows, helping you sort the groceries. You catch her humming softly, a habit you've noticed in the pantry at work, and it makes the moment feel... close.

"Okay, fridge stocked, we're good," you say, closing the fridge.

"I'm just gonna change quick," you gesture to your casual t-shirt and sweatpants.

She laughs, "Sure, you don't wanna look like jogging to the mall, aren't you?" she says, settling onto a stool by the counter, "I'll wait."

You enter your bedroom. You want to match her, not too formal, but enough to show you're making an effort. You settle on a clean button-up shirt, rolled sleeves, and darker jeans, checking yourself in the mirror, this is your best shot. You quick run a hand through your hair, hoping it's enough, and head back out.

Seoyeon's flipping through one of your books when you return. She looks up, her eyes widening slightly, then softening with a smile. "Look at you, clean up nice"” she says, her voice shy but teasing, her cheeks faintly pink.

Your face warms, her compliment hitting harder than you expected, "Thanks."

You say, grabbing your keys, "Ready for the mall now?"

"Let's go. Mind if I leave my stuff here? I'll pick it up after mall," she nods at her basket, still on the counter.

"It's fine," you said.

You lock up and head out, the walk to the mall filled with easy chatter, her picking a movie, you joking about sneaking snacks in. The day feels lighter, Seoyeon's presence a quiet balm against the week's tensions.

You reach the mall, a sprawling complex of glass and lights, a loud sound with families, couples, and groups of friends.

Seoyeon's eyes brighten as you step inside, the AC coolness a relief from the warm afternoon. "I haven't done this in forever," she admits, her voice soft but tinged with excitement, clutching her small crossbody bag.

"Just... shopping for myself, you know? Yunho usually--" she cuts herself off, her smile frozen for a moment, then recovers. "Anyway, I need a few things. Mind tagging along?"

"Sure is" you say, grinning. "Lead the way. I'm your official shopping assistant today." Her laugh, you fall into step beside her, ready to follow her lead.

Seoyeon's first stop is a boutique clothing store, its filled lined with flowy dresses, tailored blazers, and soft knits. She hesitates at the entrance, like she's unsure if she deserves to indulge, but you nudge her gently. "Go on, pick something you like," you say, leaning against a display. "I'll give you my opinion." She rolls her eyes playfully, her shyness fading, and starts browsing.

She pulls out a pale blue sundress, holding it up against herself, her brow furrowed in thought. "What do you think?" she asks, glancing at you. "I don't usually wear dress like this, but... I don't know, it's pretty."

"It's really nice," you say, picturing her in it. "Try it on. You'll look great." Her cheeks pinken, but she nods, heading to the fitting room. When she steps out, the dress flows around her, accentuating her gentle curves, her bun hair revealing her glistening shoulders under store light.

"Wow," you say, meaning it, your voice soft. "It's suit you... really." Her smile blooms, shy but delighted, and she smooths the skirt, glancing at herself in the mirror.

"Really? It's not too... much?" she asks, her voice small.

"It's perfect," you reply, stepping closer. "You should get it. Wear it for sometimes fun." Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, she smiles and nods, deciding to keep it.

She tries on a few more items, a cozy cardigan, a sleek blazer, and you cheer her on.

Next, Seoyeon leads you to a department store, her focus shifting to accessories. "I need a new purse," she says, scanning the rows of bags. "Mine's falling apart, and Yunho always says I don't need a fancy one, but..." She trails off, her jaw tightening slightly, then shakes her head. "I want something nice for me."

You nod, sensing her need to make something happy for herself. "Go for it."

She wanders through the displays, her fingers brushing leather and canvas. She lingers on a small, structured tote in deep green, elegant but practical, and holds it up. "This one?"

"Nice choice," you say, grinning. "Looks like it could hold your tablet, your tea, and your office's snacks." She giggles, slinging it over her shoulder to test it, and you can see her picturing it in her daily life.

She also eyes a pair of heels nearby, low, black, with a subtle shimmer. "I never wear heels," she admits, picking them up. "Yunho says they're not necessary, but... they're so pretty."

"Try some," you encourage, sitting on a nearby bench. "Just try it, if you like, then you can grab it."

She hesitates, then slips them on, wobbling slightly as she takes a few steps. You clap dramatically, making her laugh, her cheeks flushed. "Damn, look at you, girl."

"They're comfy," she says, surprised, checking her reflection. "I'll get them. For... sometimes fun."

Seoyeon's final stop is a cosmetics counter, her curiosity peek by the rows of lipsticks and eyeshadows. "I don't wear much makeup," she says, "but I've always wanted to try something bolder. Like... a red lip, maybe?" She glances at you, nervous but eager, and you nod encouragingly.

"Let's do it, then," you say, leaning against the counter. "Reds would look great on you." The sales associate helps her test shades, and Seoyeon dabs a vibrant crimson on her lips, her eyes widening at her reflection. She looks striking, her shy contrasted by the bold color, and you can't help but stare.

"Wow," you say, your voice low, catching her eye. "That's... yeah, you should definitely get it." Her blush deepens, blending with the lipstick, and she smiles, a mix of pride and nerves.

"It's not too bold?" she asks, tilting her head.

"Not at all, but it's okay, fits you," you reply, grinning. She buys the lipstick, along with a neutral eyeshadow palette she says she'll "figure out someday," her excitement growing with each small choice.

With her shopping bags in hand, sundress, cardigan, blazer, green tote, heels, and makeup. Seoyeon looks lighter with every purchase.

You head to a food court to grab smoothies before the movie, sitting at a small table, the mall's chatter surrounding you.

She sips her strawberry smoothie, her eyes brighter than they’ve been all week, but there’s still a shadow there, a quiet hurt she’s not voicing.

"Thanks for this," she says suddenly, her voice soft, her fingers tracing her cup. "I... I needed today. More than I realized." Her eyes meet yours, and you sense she's on the edge of opening up.

"No problem," you say, leaning forward, your voice gentle..

"You deserve to do things for you, you know? You looked happy in there, picking out stuff you love." You pause, testing the waters. "Everything okay, though? You seemed... I don't know, like you were carrying a lot earlier."

Her smile fades slightly, her gaze dropping to her cup. "It's... Yunho," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He's been... weird. Says he wants me around all the time, but then weekends come, and he just... leave me out. Says he needs space, that I'm too much during the weekday" Her fingers tighten around her cup, her hurt spilling out. "I don't get it. I try to be what he wants, but it's never enough."

Your chest tightens, anger at Yunho mixing with a need to comfort her. "That's not fair," you say, keeping your tone steady. "You're not too much, Seoyeon. He shouldn't make you feel like that." You hesitate, then add, "You deserve someone who's excited to be with you, not... pushing you away."

Her eyes flick up, glistening. "Thanks," she whispers, her voice trembling. "I just... I don't know what to do. I've been with him so long, but lately, I feel like I'm losing myself." She pauses, then forces a smile, like she's scared she's said too much. "Sorry, I didn't mean to dump that on you."

"You're not," you say, your hand resting near hers but not touching. "I'm here, okay? If you ever need to talk, or... just go shopping and forget everything for a bit." You grin, trying to lighten the mood, and she laughs softly, the sound easing the tension.

"Okay," she says, her smile more genuine now.

"Let's get to that movie," you stand, grabbing your bag, and she follows.

At the theater, you buy tickets for the movie she picked, a predictable story about two people finding love against all odds. "Don't judge me," she says, laughing softly as you hand her a ticket, her fingers brushing yours for a fleeting moment. "I need something fluffy today."

"No worries," you reply, grinning. "I'm okay with anything." You grab a shared popcorn and sodas.

You find your seats in the dimly lit auditorium, settling into the chairs. The theater's half-empty, giving you a pocket of privacy as the previews roll, her shopping bags tucked under her seat. She sips her soda, her shoulder close to yours.

As the movie starts, Seoyeon relaxes, her laughter soft at the film's early comedic moments, her hand dipping into the popcorn at the same time as yours, prompting a shy "Oops" from her.

The romantic comedy unfolds, its predictable comforting, and you notice her sinking into the story, her eyes bright in the screen's glow.

Then comes a pivotal romantic scene, the couple onscreen, standing in the rain, confessing their feelings, heart on sleeve moment. The music swells, their words dripping with longing, and you feel the air shift.

You glance at Seoyeon, curious, and catch her blushing, her cheeks flushed. She's covering her mouth with her new green tote, like she's hiding her reaction, her eyes wide and glistening, caught up in the emotion. She senses your gaze and turns, her eyes meeting yours, a shy, surprised flicker passing between you.

You hold her gaze, your heart picking up the quiet tension. She looks away quickly, her blush deepening, her tote slipping to her lap as she fidgets, her fingers twisting the strap. You feel a pull, a want to reach for her hand, to closing the gap, but her shyness holds you back, respecting her space.

The movie continues, another romantic peak hitting, a slow dance under string lights, the couple's foreheads touching, promises whispered.

Seoyeon's blush returns, softer this time, and she glances at you again, quicker, like she's checking if you're watching her.

You are, and your eyes lock for a split second before she turns back to the screen, her smile small but nervous, her shoulder brushing yours as she shifts in her seat.

As the credits roll, the lights come up, and Seoyeon clears her throat, her face still faintly pink. "That was... really sweet," she says, her voice soft, avoiding your eyes as she gathers her bags. "Kinda cheesy, but... I liked it."

"Yeah, good choice, tho" you say, standing, keeping your tone light.

Outside the theater, evening air feels soft as you and Seoyeon walk back to your apartment after the movie.

Without warning, a strong arm locks around your neck from behind, yanking you sideways with force.

You stumble, caught off guard, your bags dropping to the pavement.

"I knew you were trying to rob my girlfriend!" a voice growls, low and furious. It's Yunho, his tall, broad frame looming as he steps, his eyes blazing with jealousy. He's spotted you two, and his grip on Seoyeon's wrist is tight, pulling her close, not letting her go. Her face pales, her eyes wide with shock and fear.

"Yunho, stop!" Seoyeon cries, her voice trembling as she pounds his shoulder with her free hand, but her hits barely affect against his larger build.

The street isn't crowded, but a few passersby pause, their eyes drawn to the confusion, some pulling out phones, others just watching.

You scramble to your feet, your heart racing, the sting of the surprise attack fueling your adrenaline. "Let her go, man," you say, your voice steady but firm, wiping your hands on your jeans.

"We can talk about this," you step forward, hands raised to show you're not a threat, but Seoyeon's still struggling, her punches growing as Yunho's grip tightens.

"Talk?" Yunho scoffs, his face mix with anger, "You're sneaking around with my girl, and you wanna talk?"

Annoyed by Seoyeon's punches, he shoves her hard, sending her stumbling backward.

She collapses onto the pavement, her bags scattering, a small gasp escaping her as she hits the ground.

The crowd grows, more eyes on you, but no one steps in, their fear or indifference keeping them at a distance.

"Seoyeon!" you call, rushing to her side, kneeling to help her up. Her hands shake as she grabs your arm, her eyes glistening with tears.

Before you can steady her, Yunho charges. His knee slams into your face, a sharp pain exploding in your nose. Blood gushes, and you collapse, your vision blurring for a moment.

"No! Stop! Yunho!" Seoyeon screams, scrambling to you, her voice breaking.

"Somebody, help!" she shouts, her eyes darting to the crowd, but they stay back, too scared to intervene, some filming, others murmuring.

She kneels beside you, her hands hovering, unsure where to touch as blood drips from your nose.

You groan, wiping the blood with your sleeve, your adrenaline forcing yourself to stand, waving off the dizziness.

Yunho's coming again, his fist raised, his face a mask of rage. But this time, you're ready.

You duck under, catching his punch as you drive your shoulder into his chest, wrapping your arms around his midsection.

With a surge of adrenaline, you lift him off the ground, his weight heavy but your anger heavier.

You twist, slamming him backward onto the pavement with a thud that echoes.

He grunts, the air knocked out of him, his eyes wide with shock as he hits the ground.

The crowd gasps, the tension spiking, but you don't care. You step back, breathing hard, blood still dripping from your nose, your hands clenched.

Seoyeon's at your side, her hands gripping your arm, her voice trembling. "Are you okay?" she asks, her eyes wide, tears streaking her face as she glances between you and Yunho, who's struggling to sit up, clutching his back.

"Yunho, enough!" she shouts, stepping in front of you like a shield. "This is insane! You can't like this!" Her words choke off, her body shaking with anger and fear.

Yunho glares, pushing himself to his feet, his breath heavy. "You're defending him?" he snarls, pointing at you. "I knew you were sneaking around. You're mine, Seoyeon, and I'm not letting some guy--"

"I'm not yours!" she shouts, her voice louder than you've ever heard her. The crowd murmurs, and Yunho freezes, stunned by her defiance. "Not anymore, Yunho. I'm done with all of this. So let me go, we're over." Her words tremble, but there's a strength within her fear.

You wipe more blood from your nose, standing close, ready to step in if Yunho moves again. The crowd's still watching, some filming, but no one interferes.

Yunho's face twists, anger, hurt, disbelief, but he doesn't advance, his hands clenching at his sides. "You'll regret this," he mutters, low and cold, before turning, shoving through the crowds, and disappearing down the street.

Seoyeon's shoulders slump, her breath shaky as she turns to you, her eyes searching your face. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, her voice breaking, her hands reaching for you but stopping short.

"Your nose... we need to get you cleaned up." She's trembling way to worry about you.

"I'm fine," you say, though the pain throbs from the blood.

"You okay?" You touch her arm gently, and she nods, tears spilling.

"Let's... let's go to your place," she says, her voice small. "We can figure this out."

You nod, grabbing her bags and yours, ignoring the crowd's stares as you help her up.

You stumble into your apartment, your nose still throbbing and blood crusted on your upper lip. Seoyeon's close behind, her shopping bags forgotten by the door as she shuts it, her face pale but resolute, her eyes still glistening from tears.

You collapse onto the sofa, your head tilting back, the pain and exhaustion hitting hard. Your neck collar is speckled with blood, your jeans scuffed from the fall, and you feel guilt for not stopping Yunho sooner.

Seoyeon heading straight to the small first aid kit hanging near your fridge. "Stay still," she says softly, she pulls out antiseptic wipes, gauze, and a small bottle of betadine.

She kneels in front of you, her sweater brushing your knees, her hands gentle but shaking as she starts cleaning the blood from your face.

"Ssss..." the antiseptic makes you hiss, but her closeness endures the pain. She's so close, her face inches from yours, her brow furrowed in focus, and she looks fragile, like the fight's weight is still crushing her.

You watch her, her careful touches. You couldn't shield her from Yunho's rage, couldn't stop him from shoving her to the ground.

"I'm... sorry," you mumble thick with guilt. "I couldn't protect you... I should've... I should've fought him... for... you." The words feel clumsy, like you're her savior, but they spill out honest.

Seoyeon pauses, her hand hovering with a fresh wipe, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, wide and searching. "What do you mean?" she asks. "You wanna fight him again? No way I'm letting you." She shakes her head, brow frown, her lips pressing into a small, meep line. "Besides, you've already fought for me."

"What do you mean?" you ask, your brow furrowing.

Before you can think, she leans in, her lips pressing against yours. The kiss is sudden, her hands cupping your face, careful not to touch your bruised nose.

It's warm, steals your breath, your heart pounding as you kiss her back, your hands finding her arms, grounding yourself in her.

She pulls back, her forehead resting against yours, her breath shaky, her eyes glistening with tears.

"I mean... you stood up to him," she whispers, her voice breaking. "You didn't back down, even when he hurt you. No one's ever... done that for me." She mumbles, her hands trembling against your cheeks.

"I'm done with Yunho. I'm going to break up with him. For me... and for you. Because you care about me, and I... I feel safe."

Her words hit like a wave, your chest tightening. "Seoyeon..." you start, your voice rough, unsure if you're worthy of her trust, her choice. "Are you sure? I don't want you to do this just because--"

"I'm sure," she cuts in, her voice firmer now. "I've been losing myself with him, trying to be what he wants, but with you... I feel like me again. Today, the market, the mall, the movie... you let me be myself." She smiles, small but real, her thumb brushing your jaw, avoiding your injury. "I want that. I want... this."

You nod, your throat tight, your hands sliding to hers, holding them gently. The pain in your nose fades slowly gone by her closeness.

"Okay," you say, your voice soft. "I'm here, then. Whatever you need." You mean it every word.

She leans in again, kissing you softer this time, a promise in the press of her lips.

When she pulls back, she grabs the first-aid kit again, continue treating you, cleaning the last of the blood with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

After she finishes cleaning your injury, she glances at herself, her sweater smudged from the fall, her hands still trembling slightly. "Um… do you mind if I clean up?” she asks, her voice shy, her cheeks pink. "I feel… kind of a mess."

"Of course," you say, standing, gesturing toward the bathroom. "Towels are in the cabinet by the sink. Take your time." You pause, then add, "Need anything else?"

She smiles, small but warm. "I'm okay. Just... need a moment." She grabs her bag and heads to the bathroom, the door clicking shut softly. You sink back onto the sofa, your nose throbbing but dulled slowly.

The sound of the shower starts, a faint hum through the walls, and you try to focus, cleaning up the first aid kit and picking up her scattered shopping bags.

The shower stops after a while, and the bathroom door creaks open. You glance up, and your jaw drops. Seoyeon steps out, wrapped in a small, pastel towel of your step sister's spare, left from her last visit, which Seoyeon must have found in the cabinet.

It's shorter than the regular towels, barely reaching mid-thigh, clinging to her damp skin, her wet hair cascading over her shoulders.

Her cheeks are flushed from the steam, her bare legs glistening faintly, and she looks breathtakingly stunning. You swallow hard, your heart racing, caught off guard by the sight.

"Um... sorry," she says, clutching the towel tighter, her voice shy, noticing your stare.

"This was... all I found. It's a bit small." She tucks her hair behind her ear, her habit showing sign of her shyness.

"No, I'm the one who... should apologize…" you stammer, snapping out of it, your face warming.

"I mean, that's my step sister's. I should've checked. You, uh... feel better?" You cringe at your awkwardness, trying not to let your eyes linger, though the image of her fresh from the shower is burned into your mind.

She nods, a small smile breaking through her shyness. "Yeah, better. But, um... do you have any spare clothes? Mine are kind of dirty, and I don't want to put them back on." She shifts, the towel slipping slightly, and she catches it quickly, her blush deepening.

"Oh, right, yeah," you say, standing, grateful for something to do. "Hold on, I've got some stuff you can borrow." You head to your bedroom, remembering your step sister left a few things in a drawer from her last crash at your place.

You dig through, finding a soft, oversized t-shirt and a pair of drawstring sweatpants, simple, but clean and cozy.

Returning to the living room and you handing them to her, keeping your eyes on her face to stay respectful. "They're my step sister's, too. Hope that's okay."

"Thanks," she says, her voice soft, taking the clothes with a grateful smile, "You're... really sweet, you know," her eyes meeting yours.

She heads back to the bathroom to change, the door closing again, and you exhale, sinking onto the sofa.

When she steps out, the t-shirt hangs loosely on her frame, the sweatpants cinched tight at her waist, her damp hair tucked behind her ears. She looks cozy, almost at home, "Better," she says, sitting beside you on the sofa, her hands clasped in her lap. "Thanks for… everything. I don't know what I'd have done without you today."

You shake your head, "You don't have to thank me. I'm just glad you're okay."

She nods, her gaze steady holds the tremor in her hands. "I'm really done with Yunho. I can't keep living like that, always afraid, always... being watched." Her voice cracks breaking through.

"You make me feel like I can be more. Like I'm... being me." She looks at you, her eyes soft.

You want to reach for her, to hold her, but you hold back, respecting her pace. "You are...," you say, your voice low, meaning every word, "And I'm here, always whatever you need."

"I'm gonna grab a quick shower," you say, rubbing the back of your neck, your voice soft to match the fragile air. "Make yourself at home. There's water in the fridge, or... whatever you need."

Seoyeon nods, curling up on the sofa, her hands tucked under her chin. "Okay," she murmurs, her eyes soft but tired, "I'll be here."

You give her a small smile, then head to the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you.

The hot water washes away the blood and tension, the steam clearing your head as you replay the day, the market, the mall, the movie’s romantic scenes, her blushes, the fight with Yunho.

You dry off, wrapping a towel around your neck, pulling on a pair of boxers, too tired to bother with more. Your hair's a damp, messy tangle, half covering your eyes as you step out, the cool air hitting your bare chest.

You pause at the bathroom door, your breath catching. Seoyeon's asleep on the sofa, one hand propping her cheek, her lips slightly parted, her damp hair framing her face. She looks beautiful, almost fantasy in your apartment light, her small body curled up in the oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. She's cute, vulnerable, the woman you've been dreaming of, someone you want to care for, to protect every moment. Your chest tightens, a fierce urge to shield her from Yunho, from anything that could shut her light.

As you step closer, hanging your towel on a chair, Seoyeon stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She blinks, "Ohh..." gazing through you, bare chested, boxers, damp hair falling into your eyes, and her cheeks flush, a soft gasp escaping her.

She stands, her movements slow but deliberate, crossing the room to you. You freeze, your heart racing, unsure what's happening but feeling the air shift, charged with something new.

"You look... nice," she says, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes tracing your chest, shy but bold in a way you didn't expect.

Her hand reaches out, her fingers brushing your chest, warm against your skin. She steps closer, her small body pressing against you, her touch lingering on your broad enough chest. The contact sends a jolt through you, your cock stirring in your boxers, already half hard from her closeness.

"Seoyeon..." you say, your voice low, confused, not sure how to respond. Is this the moment? Does she want this? Her touch feels like a signal, but the day's chaos, makes you hesitate, not wanting to make this quick for her.

Seoyeon is braver than you thought. Her hand slides lower, tracing your stomach, her fingers dipping just under the waistband of your boxers, brushing against your cock, now half-erect.

You gasp, your body reacting faster than your mind, the warmth of her hand sending a surge of heat through you. Her eyes meet yours, wide, desire in her flushed face. "Your little man got exited?" her hands still on you.

You swallow hard, your cock hardening under her touch, "Seoyeon," you say, your voice rough, your hand gently catching hers, holding it still, "Are you sure? After everything today... I don't want you to feel like you have to--"

"I want to," she cuts in, her eyes searching yours.

"I want this. I want you." She leans up, kissing you again, slower this time, her lips warm and needy, her body pressing closer.

Her hand moves again, stroking you lightly through your boxer, and you groan into the kiss.

The kiss deepens, but it's gentle. You guide her to the sofa, sitting her down, kneeling between her legs to keep the closeness without overwhelming her. Her hands roam your bare shoulders, her touch light but curious, exploring you like she want memorizing the feel of you.

She pulls back slightly, her breath shaky. "I... I should tell you," she murmurs, her voice barely audible, her eyes flicking down, shy but honest. "This... it's not my first time. Yunho... he was my first." Her words hang there, and your heart skips a beat, a mix of jealousy and sadness at the thought of her with him, of him taking something so intimate from her.

You swallow, your mind flashing to your own secrets, Saerom, Eunbi. But you push them aside, unsure if sharing would hurt her or complicate this fragile moment.

Instead, you cup her face, your thumb brushing her cheek, your voice soft. "I don't care. This is still you... with me, right now. That's what matters." You mean it, your words grounding her, and her eyes soften, a small smile breaking through her nerves.

"Thank you," she whispers, leaning into your touch, her hands finding your chest again.

You kiss her once more, slower, your hands sliding to her waist, resting on the soft fabric of the t-shirt. She shifts, tugging at the hem, her shyness returning as she lifts it over her head, revealing her bare skin, her small, perky, perfect breasts. You pause, taking her in, your breath catching at her.

"You're... beautiful," you say, your voice low, and she blushes, her hands covering herself for a moment before you gently pull them away, kissing her collarbone, then lower, soft and reverent.

"That's... ahh," she gasps, her fingers tangling in your damp hair, her body arching slightly into your touch. You move slowly, your lips tracing her skin, wanting her to feel cherished, not rushed.

She tugs at your boxers, her hands trembling but bold, and you help her slide them off, your cock springing free, hard and ready. Her eyes widen, a mix of shock and desire, and you kiss her again, calming her.

"We'll go slow," you murmur against her lips, and she nods, her breath hitching as she pulls at the drawstring of her sweatpants, letting them pool around her ankles, revealing her simple cotton panties, already damp.

You slide them down gently, your hands grazing her thighs, and she shivers, her small frame opening to you. You settle between her legs, kissing her inner thighs slow, her soft moans filling the quiet.

"Is this okay?" you ask, glancing up, and she nods, her hands gripping the sofa, her eyes locked on yours, trusting.

You move to her core, your tongue flicking gently, tasting her sweetness, and she gasps, her hips twitching. You keep it slow, savoring her, her moans growing softer, more desperate, her hands in your hair.

"That... feels so good," she whispers, her voice shaky, and you hum against her, making her arch, her body trembling as she nears the edge.

You pull back just before she tips over, wanting to be with her fully, and she whines softly, needy but not pushing.

You position yourself, your cock brushing her entrance, and pause, searching her eyes, "Ready?" you ask, your voice gentle, and she nods, her hands on your shoulders, pulling you closer.

You push in slowly, inch by inch, her tight warmth enveloping you, her gasp sharp but sweet, "You okay?" you murmur, pausing, and she nods, her nails digging lightly into your skin, her breath uneven.

"Keep going," she whispers, and you do, moving slow, each thrust gentle, letting her adjust, her moans soft and shaky.

Her legs wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you kiss her, your lips moving together. The intimacy builds, something deeper, softer, like you're both healing through each touch.

"You feel... so good," you mumble against her neck, and she smiles, her blush returning, her hands roaming your back.

She moves with you, hesitant at first, then bolder, her hips meeting yours, her moans growing louder. The sofa creaks softly, the apartment quiet, just your breaths and her sounds.

As you near your peak, her walls tightening around you, you feel the urge to pull out, "Seoyeon... I'm close," you whisper, and you pulled out, your release hitting just as you withdraw, your cum spilling across her stomach, warm and thick.

You pant, catching your breath, but Seoyeon's face shifts, a flicker of disappointment crossing her flushed features.

"I... wanted it inside," she murmurs, her voice shy but honest, her eyes avoiding yours for a moment. "It's... my safe week. I thought..." she trails off, her blush deepening, like she's embarrassed to admit it.

Your heart skips, surprise. "I'm sorry," you say quickly,

You reach for a tissue from the coffee table to gently wipe her stomach. "I didn't know... I just wanted to be careful." You pause, meeting her eyes, your hand resting on her thigh.

"Let me make it up to you, okay?"

Her eyes widen, a mix of nerves and curiosity, but she nods, her small smile returning. You stand, offering your hand, and lead her to your bedroom, the space dim and cozy, your bed unmade but inviting.

"We'll do it again,” you murmur, kissing her softly, guiding her to the bed. She sits, her hands fidgeting, but her gaze is trusting, warm.

You kneel before her, kissing her lips, then her neck, your hands sliding to her hips. "Tell me what you want," you whisper, and she blushes, her voice barely audible.

"I want it... inside," she says, her eyes meeting yours.

Her words stir you, your cock hardening again, and you nod, kissing her deeply, easing her back onto the bed.

You move slowly, your lips tracing her skin, her moans soft as you rediscover her body.

When you enter her again, it's gentle, her warmth welcoming you, as she gasps. You thrust slowly, her hands clutching your back, her legs wrapping tighter, urging you deeper. "Like this?"

she nods, her moans growing, her eyes locked on yours, "Yes... like that," she whispers, and you move together.

When she nears her peak, her walls pulsing, you stay inside, her plea from before guiding you. "Please... inside," she gasps, her hands gripping you, and this time, you don't pull back.

You cum, let go, release spilling inside her, warm and intense, her moan quiet but raw as she comes with you, her body trembling, her warmth pulsing around you.

You collapse beside her, pulling her close, her head on your chest, your arms around her small frame. She's warm, soft, her breath steadying, and you kiss her forehead, she snuggles closer, her smile small forming.

She's curled into you, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, her damp hair tickling your neck.

She shifts, her hand sliding down your chest, her touch growing bolder. She glances up, her eyes meeting yours, her cheeks flushed.

"Can I...?” she whispers, her voice soft but laced with need, her fingers brushing your softening cock, making you twitch.

You nod, your breath catching, and she smiles, her shyness melting into courage.

Her hand wraps around your cock, stroking slowly, her grip gentle but firm, making your cock back to life.

She leans in, her lips brushing your chest, then closing around your nipple, licking and sucking softly, sucking with a hum that sends a jolt straight to your cock.

"Seoyeon..." you groan, her tongue flicking as her hand pumps you, slow and deliberate, making you harden under her touch.

She switches to your other nipple, sucking harder, her teeth grazing lightly, and you arch, your hands gripping the sheets, pleasure building fast.

She pulls back, her eyes glinting with a boldness you didn't expect, she shifts down the bed, kneeling between your legs, her small body on her knees.

She looks at your cock, now half-hard, and licks her lips, before you can respond, she leans down, her tongue flicking the tip, tasting you, making you gasp. Her lips close around the head, soft and warm, sucking gently, her hand stroking the base, slow and teasing.

"Fuck, Seoyeon..." you moan, covering your eyes with your arm, too much by the pleasure she's giving, her mouth working you with surprising skill, her tongue swirling, her lips sliding down your shaft, taking you deeper.

She hums, the vibration sending sparks through you, her small hands gripping your thighs as she bobs, savoring you, her moans muffled but needy, your cock hardens fully, rock solid in her mouth.

She pulls back, a string of saliva connecting her lips to your tip, she climbs up, straddling you, her bare pussy brushing your cock, wet and warm, her thighs trembling as she positions herself.

"I want you again," she whispers, her voice shaky but bold, her hands on your chest for balance.

Your hands finding her hips, guiding her as she sinks down, your cock sliding into her tight, slick heat, her gasp loud and sweet.

"Oh my god... you're so big," she moans, her eyes fluttering shut, her walls gripping you as she adjusts, her small body start rocking slowly.

You meet her thrusts, pushing up, your hips syncing with hers, slow at first, then faster, her moans growing louder. Her breasts bounce as she rocking, her nipples visibly hard.

You cup her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples, and she arches, her moans desperate, her hands gripping your shoulders.

"Yes... again...!" she gasps, riding you harder, her pussy soaking you, her juices dripping down your cock.

"Seoyeon... you feel so good," you groan, thrusting up, meeting her rhythm, her tight walls milking you.

She leans down, kissing you messily, her breaths hot against your lips. Your bed creaks, the sound mixing with her wet slaps against you.

"I'm... close," she whimpers, her walls pulsing, and you feel your own release building, her wish from before repeating, inside.

"Please... inside me," she gasps, her voice breaking, and you don't hold back this time.

"Seoyeon...!"

You thrust deep, your cum spilling inside her, hot and thick, her pussy clenching as she comes, her moan trembling, her body shaking above you.

She collapses onto your chest, her breaths shaky, her arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. "Mmm..." she murmurs, nuzzling your neck, her lips brushing your skin, her pussy still twitching around your softening cock.

"That... was perfect," she whispers, her voice sleepy, her shyness returning.

You stroke her back, your fingers tracing her spine, and a thought slips out, "I'm gonna start hitting gym," you murmur, your lips brushing her forehead. "Like, seriously."

Seoyeon shifts, lifting her head, her eyes meeting yours, "Suddenly? Why?” she asks, her voice soft, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"You're already... you know, strong enough," her fingers graze your chest, lingering on the broadness, her touch light but teasing.

You chuckle, but your tone turns serious, your eyes locking on hers, "Because I want to protect you," you say, your voice steady.

"If Yunho comes back, if he tries to bother you, or us, I want to be ready. I don't want to feel like I can't keep you safe again."

Seoyeon's smile softens, but she chuckles, the sound light and warm, easing the weight of your words. "That's sweet," she says, her cheeks pinkening.

"I want to join you, then. I want to get healthy, stronger. So I can protect myself, too, if you're not around," her voice is quiet but firm.

You grin at her words, "That's so cute of you," you say, your voice playful. She gives her shyness smile, along with soft chuckles.

You move, gently flipping her onto her back, sinking into the sheets. She gasps, her eyes wide with surprise, her bare breasts perky and flushed, her legs parting slightly as you hover over her.

"Seoyeon..." you murmur, your voice low, your lips finding her neck, kissing softly, grazing her pulse with your teeth.

She chills, her hands sliding to your shoulders, her moans soft and fluffy as you trail lower, your lips brushing her collarbone, then her perky breasts.

You take a nipple in your mouth, sucking gently, your tongue flicking, and she arches, her gasp sharp and needy, "So perfect," you whisper against her skin, moving to her other breast, savoring it with slow, her fingers tangling in your damp hair.

You graze lower, kissing her stomach, her hips, until you reach her pussy, still glistening with her juices and your cum, her pussy scent strong.

"Let me clean you up," you murmur, your voice husky, and she blushes, her thighs trembling as you part them gently.

Your tongue flicks her clit, soft and teasing, and she moans, her hips twitching, her hands gripping the sheets. You lick slowly, savoring her sweetness, cleaning her with long, deliberate strokes, your lips sucking lightly, drawing soft whimpers from her.

"Oh... that's... so good," she gasps, her voice shaky, her body arching into your mouth, her pussy wet and responsive.

You dip lower, your tongue exploring her folds, gentle but thorough, her moans growing louder. You focus on her clit, circling it, sucking softly, and she trembles, her thighs squeezing your head, her climax building fast.

"I'm... gonna..." she whimpers, you hum against her, pushing her over.

"Hiek~!" she gasps, snapped by pleasure, her orgasm soft but intense, her pussy pulsing, her juices coating your lips as she shakes, her moan quiet but raw.

You pull back, kissing her inner thighs, then crawl up, settling beside her, pulling her into your arms. She's panting, her face flushed, her smile shy, her body tangled to yours.

"You're... too much," she murmurs, her voice sleepy, snuggle your chest, her arms wrapping tight, "But... I like it."

"Hey..." she called, her voice soft, her fingers pausing on your skin. "Can I ask you something? But... I want you to be honest. Open. For now, for me... for us."

Your heart skips, "Yeah, of course," you say, "What is it?"

"Have you... ever had sex before this? Before me?" she bites her lip

You hesitate, your mind racing. You want this with Seoyeon, a real relationship, built on trust, but spilling everything feels risky, like it could fracture this fragile moment. You swallow, deciding to hold back on Saerom, at least for now.

"Uhhh... yeah," you admit, meeting her eyes. "I've... had sex before. With Ms. Eunbi..." you scratch your back neck, waiting for her respond.

Her eyes widen, a flicker of surprise on her face, "Ms. Eunbi?" she repeats, her voice soft, "She's... married, isn't she? Wow, that's... kind of impressive." Her tone curious, a small smile at her lips.

You shift, "It just... happened," you say, your hand resting on her waist. "Is that... okay? I mean, I want to be honest with you."

Seoyeon nods, her smile softening, her fingers resuming tracing on your arm, "It's okay," she says.

"Ms. Eunbi's nice. She's always been kind to me, so... it doesn't bother me." She pauses, her eyes flick a shy playfulness. "Plus, it's kind of hot, knowing you caught her eye." Her blush deepens, and you laugh softly, the tension easing.

"But I'm yours now," you murmur, leaning in to kiss her.

The kiss deepens, her hands sliding to your neck, pulling you closer, her bare body pressing against you. You feel your cock stirring again, her closeness.

You roll her onto her back, her small frame sinking into the sheets, her gasp soft as you hover over her, your hands framing her face. "And you're mine also," your voice low, rougher.

Her eyes widen, her legs parting slightly. You kiss her hard, your tongue claiming her mouth, she arches into you, her perky breasts brushing your chest.

You move lower, kissing her neck, sucking lightly to leave faint marks, she gasps. Your hands grip her hips, pulling her closer, your cock hard and ready, brushing her slick pussy, still wet from before, your cum lingering inside her.

"Ready for another?" you ask.

She nods, her hands clutching your shoulders, "Yes please..." she whispers, her voice needy.

You position yourself, thrusting into her in one smooth motion, her tight pussy gripping you, her moan loud and raw. Your hips snapping harder, claiming her with each thrust, her small body rocking beneath you, her perky breasts bouncing, her nails digging into your back.

"Fuck, Seoyeon... you're so tight," you groan, your hands gripping her thighs, spreading her wider, your cock driving deep, hitting her sweet spot.

"Ohhh... Ahhh..." she cries out moans, her pussy soaking you, her juices dripping, the wet slaps echoing in the room.

You're thrusting faster, her walls clenching, her body trembling as you push her toward the edge. "Faster...! oh god..." she gasps, her voice breaking, her hips bucking to meet you, her pussy pulsing, her climax building fast.

You lean down, kissing her, your tongues sloppy, your breaths ragged, and she wraps her legs around you, pulling you deeper.

"Inside... please, again," she begs, her eyes locked on yours.

You don't hold back, your thrusts relentless, her moans filling you, her pussy milking you tight.

"I'm cumming... " you groan, her nails digging your back, her body shaking.

"Fuck!" you release, cum flooding inside her, hot and thick.

"Ahhh~!" her pussy spasming as she comes, she moans load, her walls gripping you.

She collapses, panting, her arms wrapping around you, pulling you down to her chest. Her lips brushing your neck, hugging you tight, her warmth grounding you.

She shifts, glances up, "I... want more," her voice soft, a quiet challenge in her gaze.

Before you can respond, she moves, sliding out of your hold and kneeling on the bed, she is bending forward, her ass lifting high, her pussy glistening with your cum and her juices.

She looks back, her hair falling over one shoulder, "Fuck me again... please," she whispers.

Your cock twitches, hardening at the sight, her perfect ass, her slick folds, "Seoyeon..." you groan, kneeling behind her, your hands grazing her hips.

You grip her ass, spreading her slightly, your cock brushing her entrance, teasing her, and she moans, pushing back.

"Do it... hard," she gasps, her voice trembling.

You thrust into her, deep and rough, her tight pussy gripping you, her moan loud as you fill her.

"Oh god... yes!" she cries, her hands clutching the sheets, her ass bouncing with each snap of your hips, the wet slaps echoing, her juices coating your cock.

You grab her hair gently, pulling just enough to arch her back, your other hand gripping her hip, driving harder.

"Fuck, you're so tight..." you growl.

You pull her close, your chest against her back, kissing her neck, sucking lightly, your lips grazing her earlobe.

She shivers, her moans shaky, her body surrendering to you. Your hand slides to her perky breasts, squeezing, pinching her nipples, and she gasps, her pussy clenching tighter, her pleasure spiking.

"More... please," she whimpers.

You move your hand lower, circling her clit with your fingers, fast and firm, while still thrusting deep.

"Oh... I can’t..." she moans, her body trembling, her knees buckling as the pleasure builds too fast. Her pussy pulses, her climax hitting hard, she moan as she comes, her walls spasming around your cock, her juices gushing, her knees giving out. She collapses onto the bed, panting, her ass still raised, her body shaking, unable to hold herself up.

You're not done, your cock still hard, you sliding behind her. You lift her leg slightly, your cock finding her pussy again, sliding in slow but deep, her warmth wrapping you, her moan soft as you fill her.

"You feel so good," you whisper, kissing her neck, your arm wrapping around her, holding her close, your thrusts steady but rough, rocking her small body.

Her hands grip your arm, her moans quiet but needy, her pussy still sensitive, twitching around you.

You thrust harder, your hand returning to her clit, rubbing gently, and she whimpers, her body arching into you, wanting more.

"Fuck I'm close... Seoyeon," you groan, your thrusts deep. "Ergh!" your last thrust, cum flooding inside her.

You hold her tight, your breaths ragged, kissing her shoulder, her neck, as you both come down.

She turns her head, her eyes sleepy but warm, her smile shy but real. "That... was so much," she murmurs, nuzzling closer, her hand finding yours, lacing your fingers.

She shifts, propping herself on her elbow, her hand sliding down your chest, teasingly slow.

"You're... not tired yet, are you?" she murmurs, her voice soft but laced with a daring edge, her fingers brushing your softening cock, making you twitch and surprised.

"I mean, if you keep doing that..." you pause, her hand still wrapping around you, stroking gently, her grip warm.

She leans closer, her lips grazing your ear, her breath hot as she whispers, her voice trembling but bold, "You like this, don't you... my hand on your big cock?" her words unlike her usual, send a jolt through you, your cock hardening fast under her touch.

"Fuck, Seoyeon..." you groan, your head tilting back, and she giggles softly, her strokes faster, her thumb circling your tip, spreading precum.

She keeps whispering, her voice low and filthy, "I bet you'd love... to see me with someone else, wouldn't you? Like... Ms. Eunbi?" Her words catch you off guard, her mention of Eunbi. "A threesome... me and her, on you... you want that?"

Your cock throbs in her hand, the image flashing vivid, Seoyeon's small frame, Eunbi's curves, both moaning under you.

She notices, her smile sly, she keep stroking, "You do, don't you?" she teases, her lips brushing your jaw, sucking lightly, her hand pumping fast, slick with your precum.

The pleasure builds, her dirty talk and bold confidence overwhelming, you're panting, "Seoyeon..." heavy breaths rigging you.

Pleasure snapped, and you cum hard, your release spilling thick and hot over her hand, coating her fingers, dripping onto your stomach.

"Seoyeon," you catch your breath by her name, your body trembling, her hand slowing but not stopping.

She scoops your cum, using it to lubricate your cock, her fingers slick and warm, stroking you back to hardness, her touch relentless, making you groan. "Shit..." you twitch, half-laughing, your cock rock-hard again under her skilled hand.

"Want you again," she whispers, her voice soft, climbing over you. She straddles you reverse, her ass perfect and round, her pussy glistening with your cum and her juices.

She looks back, her hair falling over her shoulder, "Like what you see?" she asks, her voice trembling

You nod, your hands gripping her hips, guiding her. She sinks down, your cock sliding deep into her tight, slick pussy, her moan loud and raw as she takes you fully.

"Oh god... so big," she gasps, her ass bouncing as she starts riding, slow at first, then faster, her hands braced on your thighs, her pussy gripping you tight.

You thrust up, meeting her rhythm, rough and deep, the wet slaps sounding, her juices dripping down your cock, soaking the sheets.

"Fuck, you're so good... damn that ass,” you growl, your hands squeezing her hips, guiding her harder, her moans desperate, her pussy milking you.

She leans backward, giving you a perfect view, her back arching, her pussy clenching, her breaths ragged.

You reach around, circling her clit with your fingers, fast and firm, and she cries out, her body trembling, her climax building fast.

"... cummin'," she whimpers, her voice breaking, her pussy pulsing, soaking you.

You keep rubbing her clit, thrusting deep, and she comes hard, her moan raw and shaky, her pussy spasming, her juices gushing, her body shaking as she rides out her orgasm, her ass bouncing, her hands gripping your thighs tight.

She slows, panting, her body trembling, you hold her hips, thrusting gently, keeping the connection, your cock still hard inside her.

She glances back, her smile shy, her eyes glassy with pleasure. "You... didn't cum," she murmurs soft.

Seoyeon shifts, her hand resting on your chest, her eyes heavy but warm. "We... should clean up," her voice shyness returning.

You nod, chuckling softly, and help her up, your legs tangled in the sheets.

You both share a quick shower, her body pressed close under the warm water, her hands tracing your chest in a sweet, affectionate way.

Back in the bedroom, you lend her another of your step sister's t-shirts, this one soft and blue, hanging loosely on her petite frame.

You pull on boxers, and you both climb into bed, the sheets fresh and cool against your skin.

Seoyeon curls into you, her head on your chest, her leg draped over yours. The lamp's off now, the quiet invites softer talk.

Her fingers trace your arm, and she speaks, "So... about Ms. Eunbi," she says,

"You really... have sex with her? What was it like?" she's not threatened, just interested.

You chuckle, your hand stroking her hair, "Yeah, it was... intense," you admit low.

"Ms. Eunbi's... confident, you know? Knows what she wants. I, uh... used to call her 'mommy' when you with her. Sort of it. She loved that."

Seoyeon's eyes widen, a soft giggle escaping, "Mommy?" she repeats,

"No argue with that… it's suit for her honestly." She props herself up, looking at you, her smile teasing. "You're full of surprises, huh?"

You laugh, pulling her closer, "Says the girl who just whispered filthy things in my ear," you tease back, and she buries her face in your chest, her giggle muffled.

"You okay with that? Me and Eunbi, I mean. It's..." you stammers.

She cut with nods, lifting her head, "Yeah, I'm okay," she says.

"It's kind of... hot, honestly. Maybe... she can be my mommy too..." she giggled, crunching her little nose.

Sunday morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow across your bedroom.

Seoyeon lies beside you, still asleep, her small body curled under the sheets, her face peaceful, her lips slightly parted, her hair a gentle mess across the pillow.

You wake up first, your body heavy but rested, careful not to disturb her as you slip out of bed, the sheets rustling faintly.

You head to the bathroom, taking a quick piss. You splash water on your face, your nose still faintly sore from Yunho's knee

You return to the bedroom, your boxers snug, your cock stirring in a morning wood phase, you barely notice until you're back by the bed.

You slide in carefully, but nudge Seoyeon softly, your hand brushing her arm.

Her eyes flutter open, blinks, sleepy but warm, her smile small and instant as she sees you.

"Morning," she mumbles, her voice husky, stretching slightly, the t-shirt riding up to show a sliver of her stomach.

"Sorry for waking you," you say, your voice soft, but she shakes her head, her smile reassuring, her hand reaching to touch your arm.

"It's fine," she says, her tone gentle, her eyes crinkling, "A nudge's nothing."

She shifts closer, her gaze dropping, and her eyes widen slightly, a playful glint sparking as she notices your morning wood, your cock up in your boxers.

"So... morning wood's real, huh?" she teases, her voice soft.

Before you can respond, her hand slips under the sheets, her fingers wrapping around your cock, stroking slowly, her grip warm and teasing, sending a jolt through you.

"Seoyeon..." you groan, your voice rough, your hips twitching as she pumps you, her thumb brushing your tip, spreading precum, her touch light but deliberate.

She giggles softly, her cheeks pink, her eyes locked on yours, watching your reaction, "Feels nice?" she whispers, leaning closer, her lips brushing your jaw.

"Let me take care of this..." her strokes quicken, her hand slick with your precum, and you grip the sheets, the pleasure building fast.

Her deliberate pumps send pleasure spiking through you, your groan rough, your hips twitching under her touch.

She is slowing, your cock throbbing under her grip, "Nu uh.. don't cum out yet" she said, before you can respond, she shifts duck under the sheets, her small body disappearing beneath.

The sheet, hiding her, and you chuckle, "Seoyeon, what're you-" you lift the sheet, peeking underneath the sheet.

She's there, her face inches from your cock, her lips parted, her breath warm against your skin, your cock throbbing harder.

She glances up, meeting your gaze, her shy smile turning sly, "Just... relax," she whispers, her voice muffled under the sheet, and before you can respond, her lips close around your tip, soft and warm, sucking gently.

"Fuck..." you groan, your head falling back, your hand gripping the sheet as she takes you deeper, her tongue swirling, her mouth tight and wet.

She moans softly, the vibration humming through your cock, her small hands gripping your thighs, steadying herself as she bobs, savoring you.

Her oral is slow at first, exploratory, her lips sliding down your shaft, her tongue flicking the underside, tasting your precum.

"You're... so big," she murmurs, her voice muffled, pulling back to lick your tip, her lips glossy, her eyes flicking up to check your reaction.

You lift the sheet higher, watching her work, the sight of her small mouth stretched around you driving you wild.

She grows bolder, taking you deeper, her throat relaxing, her moans needy, her saliva dripping, making it slick and messy.

"Seoyeon... that's so good," you gasp, your hand sliding to her head, not pushing but guiding, your fingers tangling in her hair.

She hums, sucking harder, her lips tight, her tongue relentless, she rocking slightly as she works you, her pussy likely wet again from the act.

The pleasure builds fast, her mouth too perfect, and you feel the edge approaching, your hips twitching, your cock throbbing in her throat.

"I'm..." your voice warn, strained,

She doesn't pull back, her moans urging you on, her lips locked around you.

"Fuck!" you snapped, grabbed her hair.

Your release hitting hard, cum flooding her mouth, hot and thick, her soft gasp muffled.

She swallows, her throat working, taking every drop. She pulls back slowly, licking your tip clean, her lips swollen, her eyes glassy with satisfaction, a small smile curling as she peeks up at you.

You arm drop to the sheet, panting, and she crawls out, her face flushed.

"All done, morning wood gone," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Fuck that was... perfect," you murmur, your voice rough, your arms wrapping around her.

She snuggles into you and you hold her close, her giggle muffled against your chest.

"Guess we should... eat something," her voice sleepy, lifting her head, her eyes glinting searching yours.

"Yeah, breakfast sounds good," you say, your voice rough, sliding out of bed, your boxers snug, your morning wood eased but your body still buzzing from her touch.

The kitchen's cozy, the counter cluttered with your groceries from yesterday, and she starts cracking eggs into a bowl, humming softly, her chamomile scent mixing with the butter sizzling in the pan.

You lean against the counter, watching her, her here, in your space, choosing you. Your cock hardens again, the sight of her bending slightly to grab a spatula, her t-shirt lifting to show the curve of her ass, pushing you over the edge.

You step behind her, your hands sliding to her hips, your lips brushing her neck, making her gasp, the spatula pausing mid air.

"What... now?" she murmurs, her voice warm, leaning back into you, her ass pressing against your growing bulge, her shyness warring with desire.

"Want you... right here," you whisper, your hands lifting her t-shirt, revealing her bare pussy, still slick from last night.

She chills, her breath hitching, the eggs forgotten as you slide your fingers brushing her folds, finding her wet and ready.

"Keep cooking," you tease, your lips grazing her ear, and she giggles, nervous but eager, gripping the counter.

"While... you...?" she starts, but your cock nudges her entrance, cutting her off, and she moans soft, her hands clutching the spatula.

You thrust in slowly, her tight pussy gripping you, her gasp loud as you fill her.

"Oh... god," she whimpers, her body rocking with your slow, deep thrusts, her pussy soaking you, her juices start dripping down her thighs.

Your hands gripping her hips, fucking her steadily, controlled. She tries, stirring the eggs clumsily, her moans mixing with the crackle of butter, her ass bouncing against you.

"So fucking tight... Seoyeon," you growl, thrusting harder, her pussy clenching, her breaths ragged.

"I can't..." she gasps, her voice breaking, dropping the spatula, her hands holding the counter as you pound her, the wet slaps echoing, her pussy milking you, her climax building fast.

You reach around, circling her clit with your fingers, fast and firm, and she cries out, her body shaking, her pussy pulsing, her juices gushing as she comes, she moan, her legs panting.

"Fuck..." you groan, your thrusts relentless, her pussy still spasming, pushing you closer, she leans forward, her breasts pressing against the counter, her moans urging you on.

"I'll cum... inside," you warn.

"Please... do it," she gasps.

"Ergh!" you let go, cum flooding her pussy, hot and thick, her walls gripping you, taking every drop.

Her body trembling, her pussy twitching around your softening cock as you both pant, the eggs slightly burnt, the kitchen a mess of sex and breakfast.

You pull out slowly, your cum dripping from her pussy, and she turns, her face flushed, her smile shy, kissing you messily, her lips warm and eager.

"Breakfast... ruined," she murmurs, giggling, and you laugh, pulling her close, your hands on her ass.

"Worth it," you say, kissing her forehead, helping her salvage the eggs, the toast half-toasted, the butter melted.

A week has passed since that intimate night with Seoyeon, and your life shift very great.

Seoyeon has moved into your apartment, her presence filling the space with a warmth you hadn't realized you craved.

Her clothes now hang in your closet next to your step sister's old t-shirts, her chamomile tea sits on the kitchen counter, and her shy smiles greet you each morning.

She ended things with Yunho decisively, texting you that Monday after she confronted him at her place. "It's over," her message read, simple but heavy, followed by, "I'm free." You didn't press for details, sensing her need for space, but her strength in walking away solidified your bond.

At the office, no one knows you and Seoyeon are together. You both agreed to keep it quiet for now, avoiding gossip and the complications of Eunbi and Saerom drama. Seoyeon slips back into her reserved office self, quiet, focused, her tablet glowing as she works, but you catch her stealing glances at you, her lips twitching into a secret smile, a silent promise of your shared life outside work.

It's Friday evening now, Seoyeon's curled on the sofa in one of your hoodies, her legs tucked under her, scrolling through her phone for gym routines, shess serious about your plan to get stronger together.

You're in the kitchen, tossing together a quick stir fry, the scent of soy sauce and garlic filling the air.

"You sure you’re ready for deadlifts?" you tease, glancing over, and she laughs, her voice light, freer than it's ever been.

"I'll outlift you by next month," she shoots back, her shy grin bold. She sets her phone down, joining you in the kitchen, her small frame brushing yours as she steals a piece of bell pepper.

"Monday's when we start the gym, right?" she asks, leaning against the counter, her hoodie sleeves slipping over her hands.

"And... maybe we talk about us? At work? I don't want to hide forever." Her voice is soft.

"Monday. We'll figure out how to tell the other. And gym's a date."

You’re ready to build everything with her, step by step.

#kpop smut #triples smut #yoon seoyeon #seoyeon smut #triples seoyeon smut

348 notes · View notes

imaginariumwanderer · 2 months ago

Note

When did you start drawing or knowing cookie run?

Ima backstory time!

I started playing cookie run in 2021 I think, around the first Super Mayhem update (remember when toothpaste cookie was popular?), and have been playing on n off for a while. My phone have a storage issue so deleting then reinstalling the game is a usual thing for me

I did some drawing here and there, I doodled Clover cookie (my shaylaaa) in my note, and Smoked Cheese is the second character I drew after Clover. Comes February 2024, the Beast yeast story inspired me so much I became active in the fandom, then I discovered shadowvanilla, n the rest is history. I think I only started posting more in April/May tho

Here's the first crk piece I uploaded on tumblr btw, in 2023:

If you're asking for my art journey I'd say it's not that interesting haha. I started drawing for fun in middle school, it was only me a pen n some paper back then. It's not until 2022 when I bought my first tablet that I started taking digital art seriously, before that I tried drawing w my fingers but that was hell, I'm never going back to that never😭

#text #crk #cookie run kingdom #1m4 answer

203 notes · View notes

lilyprettyremy · 10 months ago

Text

Mastering the It Girl Life on Campus/ at school : Confidence, Class, and Style

On-Campus Essentials: Sophisticated and Ready to Conquer

Structured mini tote – Think sleek and polished. Choose something that says "I'm on my game" while fitting your essentials: a slim laptop, your chic planner, and a pair of sunnies.

Signature scent – A travel-sized luxury perfume, like Byredo or Le Labo. It leaves a lasting impression without overpowering.

Hydro flask in a neutral tone – Hydration, but make it aesthetic. Bonus points if it matches your outfit.

Protein bar or matcha to-go – Snacks are essential, but we’re keeping it elevated. Opt for a protein bar with clean ingredients or a homemade matcha latte in a reusable tumbler.

AirPods Max or sleek earbuds – Perfect for tuning out the noise between classes with a curated podcast or chill playlist, keeping your energy cool and collected.

In Class: Own the Room with Confidence and Intelligence

Effortless note-taking setup – Digital is where it’s at. Use a tablet with a stylus for sleek, organized notes that sync across all your devices. Bonus: it looks high-tech and minimalistic.

Command attention – Sit where you can engage, but it’s not about the front row anymore—it’s about being present and prepared. Contribute thoughtfully when needed, and stay poised.

All-in-one app for organization – Ditch the old-school planner. Use an app like Notion or Google Calendar to sync your schedule, assignments, and deadlines. Effortlessly keep everything streamlined and on point.

Refined confidence – Instead of always speaking up, choose your moments wisely. Command attention through well-thought-out points that showcase your intellect, not just participation.

Breaks Between Classes: Elevate Your Downtime

Mini face mist – A refreshing face mist with a subtle scent keeps your skin hydrated and glowing, giving you a post-class refresh. Think Tatcha or a rose water mist.

Quick mirror check – Always have a compact mirror to do a quick hair and lip check. It's about looking polished and put together without effort.

Reset with movement – Walk around campus to stay energized, but with intention. Pop in your favorite playlist, take in the surroundings, and use this time to clear your mind before the next task.

Digital declutter – Use breaks to clear out any unnecessary tabs, update your notes, or respond to quick emails. Keeping your digital life tidy is the new version of looking organized.

950 notes · View notes

claramelooo · 29 days ago

Text

CHECKMATE (7/20)

Fuck!!! Uggggh, I love this chapter!!! We are getting close to the kiss...

Enjoy!!

MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Carol's participation, smooth, a jealous and very annoying Agatha

Pairing: Governor! Agatha Harkness x Fem Reader

Summary: You present your idea, and you don't expect Agatha to like it so much.

Bishop

It's a long-range piece, but can only move along diagonals and cannot jump over other pieces. Each player starts the game with two bishops.

You were surrounded by notebooks, loose notes, post-its stuck to the carpet, the tablet, and even your own arm.

The living room floor looked like an open mind. A chaotic map of ideas, arrows, keywords, and small nighttime obsessions scribbled in black ink.

The sky outside was starting to lighten. The cold dawn light filtered through the blinds, bathing your skin in that pale tone that only exists between the end of the night and the beginning of the day.

You were still in your sweatshirt and the dark circles under your eyes gave away what the clock no longer needed to prove: you hadn’t slept.

The sound of the door creaking pulled you out of your immersion. Carol appeared with slow steps, hair flattened on one side like she had fought with her pillow.

She stopped at the entrance to the room, blinking her sleep-swollen eyes, and she sighed.

“I can’t believe you didn’t sleep.”

You looked up, a pen still held between your teeth.

“Neither can I.” You murmured, pulling the pen out and stretching your neck until it cracked.

Carol went straight to the kitchen, withholding further judgment. The sound of the coffee machine filled the silence, along with the quiet thrum of your own heart, which sped up every time your eyes landed again on the top of the page.

But deep down, you knew.

This wasn’t just about young voters.

It was about her, about proving that you deserved to be there—at her side.

That you were good.

Good for her.

Carol came back with two mugs, handed you one without a word and sat on the couch with the other, observing the organized chaos in front of her.

“This looks like NASA’s bunker.” She took a sip. “You need to chill. How about going out on Saturday?”

You sipped a bit of the liquid, thinking. Going out with Carol wasn’t exactly relaxing but maybe she had a point.

“As long as you’re paying. Fine.” You shrugged.

“Excuse me?! You should be paying! Spend your first paycheck!”

��A deal’s a deal!”

“Ugh, whatever…”

You knew Carol hated spending money, and you hoped she would forget about you.

[…]

You arrived earlier again, with the plan printed on paper and digitized on the tablet. You had put on lipstick. Nothing excessive, just a red touch, and chosen a button-down shirt that made you look smart, and a short skirt that made you seem younger and more effortless. Like someone who thinks fast and well, but doesn’t care about taking credit.

You opened the office door with a racing heart and froze.

She was already there.

Agatha Harkness.

Sitting behind the desk, brown hair parted to the side, a gray blazer draped over her shoulders, those square glasses that were so her and a lot of papers everywhere.

Two advisors were speaking at once, and she was ignoring them masterfully. One hand held a pen; the other, a black coffee cup—the third one, judging by the stack of empty mugs on the counter.

You lit up, just like a needy puppy seeing its owner come home. And then you cursed yourself for it.

Pathetic, you thought. Pathetic and needy, she hasn’t even noticed you.

But she had—by the way her eyes found yours and the way she looked you over, head to toe, assessing your outfit, she liked what she saw.

Agatha didn’t smile, didn’t say good morning. Just… looked at you. But the look was enough. It was recognition, validation.

You walked up to the desk trying to appear professional, even though your legs were still a bit shaky.

“I… I created a plan for the youth voters.” You said, your voice almost steady.

She extended her hand without looking, and you placed the tablet into it carefully. Agatha skimmed the first few lines, then quickly scrolled to the middle and you watched every microexpression of hers like you were reading vital signs.

A jaw muscle, a slight wrinkle in the brow, eyes lingering just a second longer on a suggestion you had written at three in the morning.

“An Instagram profile called… ‘MotherHark?’” She looked at you over her glasses.

Laughter broke out into the room, and you shrank a little. You hadn’t realized how stupid it might sound out loud.

“Well…” you began, swallowing your insecurity, “based on the comments on social media… Young people like your strong, assertive demeanor. The body language, the firmness. I… ran a test last night, just to see the reception…”

You swiped on the tablet and played a short video.

Fifteen seconds of a clip of her putting the host in his place during last night’s interview.

In the background, the cheeky, punchy beat of Breakin’ Dishes by Rihanna. And right when Agatha said: “In that case… let me know and I’ll change the channel,” the beat dropped. The wink, the lethal little smirk—timed perfectly to the rhythm.

An edit worthy of going viral.

She watched in silence, but you saw it.

The almost smile at the corner of her lips. As light as a secret. As warm as a sunbeam on a cold day.

Goddamn.

She was hot.

“I posted this anonymously on TikTok. It’s been less than 24 hours. It’s already hit a hundred thousand views, twenty thousand likes… ten thousand comments.” You said, swiping to the next screen and mirroring it to the TV.

The comments popped like silent applause:

“Who is she?”

“She’s SERVING.”

“Slayyy”

“Mother is MOTHERING.”

Now everyone in the room was reacting, surprised. Finally understanding what this could mean.

Agatha read silently, slowly repeating.

“Mother is… mothering?”

Each syllable came out as a mix of mockery and wonder. Like she was discovering a new language and maybe liking it a little too much.

Shit.

She was so cute!!!

“Yes.” You chuckled softly, now that you had proven your point. “Young people want someone who commands respect… and at the same time, makes them feel like things are under control. Someone who’ll protect them, but without mercy. They want to be taken care of by someone strong.”

You looked at her, steady.

“And that’s who you are. A great mother. The powerful kind, it seems.”

Silence.

Her gaze met yours. Intense, indecipherable. And she smiled. A sly smile, no teeth—just for you.

You knew she liked it.

“And how do we make this work?” She asked, voice low but firm. A challenge disguised as curiosity.

You almost sighed, but you straightened your shoulders and lifted your chin.

“We can start by building the visual universe. Layout, fashion forward color palettes, narratives. Then connect it with behind-the-scenes content, well edited, of course. TikToks from backstage, her reactions during debates, spontaneous interactions with the team. Show the Agatha no one sees. The human one. The ‘Mother.’”

She crossed her arms, intrigued.

You continued, increasingly excited.

“After that… impactful Instagram reels, iconic quotes. Strategic merch. Like mugs that say ‘change the channel’. And the cherry on top: the hashtag. We already have organic engagement with #MotherHark. We can capitalize on it without losing elegance or sounding forced.”

“And how does this help us against the opposition?” One of the advisors asked.

Her eyes never left you, of course.

“Right. No videos tearing down other candidates. I believe this works better if we convince people that candidate Harkness is the best. Show the reason she’s leading the campaign.”

The man jotted down notes, nodding.

She watched you like she was watching a storm take shape.

“And the TikTok?” She asked, still testing the edges of the idea.

“It’s already in beta. We’ll launch an official profile with a special video: your first direct address to the camera. Natural and intimate. Like you’re speaking to… well, your digital babies.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“My… digital babies?”

You laughed.

“It’s just a metaphor. I promise I won’t make you dance.”

“Better not,” she replied, dry. But the smile was still there. “And this first video… who writes the script?”

You hesitated for a second.

“I can write. I can draft something and you tweak it. Or… if you’d rather, we can write it together.”

God, yes… you really did want to be alone with her a little longer.

A comfortable silence lingered in the air for a moment. She looked over at her assistants again, whispered something to them. Then, back at you.

“I like that.” She said simply.

It was like a bell rang inside your chest.

She likes it.

You nodded slowly, trying not to blush. Trying not to look so happy. So needy. So obvious.

But inside, you were bursting.

You were good.

Even if she never said it out loud.

[...]

You were alone.

In your improvised office, as Billy liked to call it, “the idea closet” wrapped in a delicious quiet, filled only with the sound of laptop notifications, scribbles on post-its, and the soft hum of the AC.

The glass wall reflected your silhouette sitting on the floor, surrounded by graphic materials, slogan prototypes, and open folders. A sea of chaotic creativity.

You were so focused on reorganizing an engagement spreadsheet that you didn’t hear the door open.

“Are you working or plotting my murder?” Said a deep voice, laced with elegant irony.

The air thinned. Again.

You turned your head slowly.

She was there, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, the blazer draped over her shoulders, and that gaze that seemed to cut right through you. As if she could read your thoughts or worse.

“The first one,” you said, swallowing hard. “I need the algorithm to love you as much as the public does.”

She stepped into the room slowly, eyes scanning the scattered papers. The faint rustle of her tailored pants as she moved.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. About image and setting trends.”

She stopped beside you, crouching down with feline control.

“How would that work, exactly?”

It took you a second to remember how to breathe.

“Well… sometimes what sticks isn’t what’s said, but what’s seen,” you spun your laptop toward her, opening a slide deck. “It can be something as simple as a color. An accessory, a recurring detail. Something that sticks in the public’s mind. Like Ocasio-Cortez’s lipstick. Merkel’s blazer. Or Michelle’s bun.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, her face was too close to yours now.

“And what did you imagine for me?”

You tried to look calm, professional. But your knee brushed hers and you had to pretend you didn’t feel it.

“Purple,” you said. “Powerful, noble. Feminine, but not romantic or tacky like pink. If we included a purple piece every time you appeared publicly, it would create a visual pattern. Something people recognize without realizing. A symbol. An emotional visual identity.”

She didn’t respond right away. She picked up a random post-it from your pile, read something you’d scribbled at 3 a.m.

Strong enough to lead. Real enough to feel.

And then, she placed it back down without a word. Her eyes returned to yours.

“And who decides what’s emotional?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question.

She was looking into you now. The kind of look that doesn’t just ask about colors and hashtags. The kind that wants to know who you are and why, exactly, you’re breathless.

“Whoever feels it.” You answered quietly.

She nodded once, slowly.

“You really had to be good, huh?” She said, looking at you with a mysterious smile.

Your cheeks flushed red, and it was funny how after just one night, you didn’t hate her with such intensity anymore and had stayed up all night just for her recognition.

“What? You saying that just because you can’t get rid of me?” You joked, nervously. But luckily, she didn’t seem to notice.

“Exactly,” she said, eyes drifting to a fixed point above your shoulder, lost in thought. Then, coming back to herself. “Stick with the purple,” she stood up. “And send me some wardrobe ideas. Nothing obvious or theatrical. Just… inevitable.”

She turned to leave, but paused at the door. Without looking back, she said:

“And wear a lighter perfume when you work with me. Yours… is too much.”

The door closed.

And you were alone again.

Except for the sound of your heart hammering too loudly in your chest.

Too much?

What the fuck??

Right. You couldn’t afford to dwell on that now. You had to finish your work and head back to class.

Your academic life wasn’t going to wait.

So you closed the laptop, took a deep breath, and got up like someone tucking a secret into their pocket.

Two hours later, you were sitting on the steps of Building H, with a coffee in hand and a Indigenous rights article open on your tablet. Trying to concentrate. Trying to pretend the world hadn’t shifted in the past few days.

But of course, someone had to notice.

“Well, look who’s back from Olympus,” Billy said, dropping his bag next to you with his usual flair. “The goddess of chaos’s favorite.”

You let out a dry laugh.

“She’s not a goddess.”

“But definitely chaos,” he grinned, sitting down. “Come on, spill it. What’s it like working with the chosen one?”

You pretended not to get it.

“Chosen?”

“Hurricane Harkness, duh,” he said, like it was obvious. “She’s everywhere, every timeline, every interview clip, every meme. ‘Mother is mothering’ is trending on my TikTok, by the way. Congrats, personal image assistant.”

You rolled your eyes, hiding a smile.

“I just gave her an idea. She’s the one who put on the show.”

“Oh, and what a show.” Sharon joined in, lounging on the step above you. “That video of her with the Rihanna song? Iconic. I didn’t know she was that… hot.”

You sat up straighter, a little uncomfortable with the comment. Something bubbling in your stomach.

You pretended to keep reading, but it was pointless. They were looking at you like you were… different, like you’d crossed some kind of portal.

Billy nudged your arm.

“Tell me something. Is she really that cold in person?”

You hesitated.

Your mind flashed back to the emergency exit. Her intense stare. The ever present tension. The precise words. The heated kisses. Her hot, pulsing pussy.

Fuck.

Definitely not cold.

“She’s… focused,” you answered carefully. “And very demanding.”

They both looked at you with a sly grin.

“You know, Sharon and I have a bet going about how long it’ll take for you to develop some kind of twisted crush on your boss.”

Oh.

If only they knew.

“Are you guys insane?” You looked up from your tablet at last. “She’s my boss. Older. Way older.” You tried to sound firm.

Billy’s face was serious now, like he was listening intently.

“Okay. Now say it like you hate that.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Billy… come on.”

Then it was Sharon’s turn.

“Seriously, wipe here.” She pointed to the corner of your mouth and you did it automatically. “You’re drooling, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes again as the two of them high-fived in front of you.

“What is this? A setup?”

“I just want my twenty bucks.” Sharon said, backing off.

“And I want mine,” added Billy.

“Wait, I didn’t bet anything…” you protested.

“You heard it!” Billy shot back.

Shit.

You owed them forty dollars.

Definitely owed them.

By the end of your classes, you were already at the café across from campus. After the chaos of the past few days, you deserved a break.

The café was the kind that had a small library in the back. Quiet. Perfect for chilly days. You loved it there because… you were invisible.

You read your book carefully. The hot chocolate was like a kiss on your tongue.

Until…

“Well, well, well… what a coincidence.”

That voice…

Agatha.

She wore a wine-colored trench coat, dark sunglasses and a casual tone that felt rehearsed when she approached your table.

Coincidence, my ass.

She sat down without asking. You slowly closed your book, pulse quickening.

“Do you frequent this place?” You asked, disbelief laced with irony.

“You don’t have to say everything that pops into your head. You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?” She smirked, watching your cheeks flush.

“Sorry,” you looked away, even though her eyes were hidden. You knew she was watching, and that alone was enough. “I just wouldn’t have pictured you here. Especially right now… Shouldn’t you be with your aides in some boring meeting?”

She laughed. Really laughed, and the sound warmed your chest.

“I should… but…” she shrugged, like it couldn’t be helped. “I felt like reading.”

Reading… sure.

That usual firm, no-nonsense tone was still there, leaving no room for questions, but you always, always pushed past it.

“And what are you reading?” You asked, like someone with no survival instinct.

Agatha studied you for a moment, and you immediately regretted wearing your Care Bears sweatshirt as your emergency coat.

“Haven’t decided yet,” good old Harkness, always quick with a comeback. “Any suggestions?”

“Have you tried a classic, Governor? What about Pride and Prejudice?” You squinted playfully, earning a laugh—half amused, half incredulous.

She drew a breath before starting:

“‘I have many flaws, but not in understanding, I hope. As for my temper, I can’t guarantee it’s very good. I believe it’s a little too harsh for the world’s conveniences. I can’t forget the madness and vices of others as quickly as I should. Nor the offenses they make against me. My feelings don’t flare up with the slightest effort or attempt. My temperament could be called resentful. Once the good opinion I have of a person is lost, it’s lost forever.’”

You were impressed. She recited Mr. Darcy without blinking. So fucking charming! She must’ve read it dozens of times.

“I was studying Jane Austen before you were even a thought, girl.” She said, challengingly.

And you liked that… How she never shied away from emphasizing her age, her experience.

“‘This is truly a flaw,’” you began theatrically, setting your own book aside. “‘Relentless resentment is a trait that marks a character. You’ve chosen your flaw well. In fact, I can’t laugh at it. There’s no need to be afraid of me.’”

She looked at you and her eyes are smiling. You've never seen her like this and Agatha seemed to glow.

“‘Oh. I believe that in every temperament, there’s a tendency toward a particular form of evil, a natural vice that even the best education can’t extinguish.’” Agatha raised her eyebrows, amused by your scowling expression.

“And I’m supposed to believe your flaw is revealing your questionable character during emergency exits?” You muttered, sarcastic.

“You love playing that card, don’t you, sweetheart? It’s getting boring.” She sighed dramatically.

You clicked your tongue, leaning in a little.

“You know… Mr. Darcy was a bit insufferable at first. But you’re more like Katherine from The Taming of the Shrew.” Your tone was teasing, but your voice had dropped, almost intimate.

Funny how naturally your verbal sparring morphed into shared literary references. Classics always hit during the worst moments and by the look she shot you, Agatha definitely knew who Katherine was.

She let out a short, nervous laugh, removing her sunglasses with defiance. “And who would you be? The stubborn brute Petruchio?”

You smirked, wickedly.

“Well, I don’t usually cast myself in the male role, but since you brought it up… Katherine ends up tamed and married to Petruchio.”

Your implication made Agatha lick her lips, an obvious attempt to restrain her growing irritation.

“Are you implying I can be tamed? Like I’m some wild animal?” Agatha growled, low and bitter. She looked like she regretted coming.

You watched her closely, every feature. Her furrowed brow, her clenched jaw. She was stunning, furious and magnetic. Your gaze dropped to her mouth. Your heart raced, the desire to kiss her almost unbearable.

“Not a wild animal, but you can definitely be tamed.”

The provocation was clear, but your eyes betrayed something deeper.

“You’re so fucking insufferable.”

She closed her eyes, searching for something. Patience, maybe Self-control?

“Did I win?” You whispered, referring to your battle of wits.

“Oh, give me a break!” She rolled her eyes, exasperated and you laughed softly.

A silence settled between you. Not as heated now, but no less intense. Your eyes kept meeting.

“And what are you reading?” She asked suddenly. You turned the cover toward her, and she squinted before picking it up. “Fingersmith?” She asked, flipping through the pages. “What is this, lesbian self-help?”

You let out a breathy laugh, incredulous, and snatched the book from her hands.

“Something like that.”

She smiled.

“By the way, your idea got approved by Barkley’s board.” She said casually.

You blinked.

“Really?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “They’re positively enchanted by the idea of having such a progressive young woman on their side.”

She made a grand gesture with her hands.

She seemed…

Uncomfortable.

She placed something on the table. A small, perfectly wrapped box.

“What’s this?” you blinked.

She stood up, putting on her sunglasses and tying the belt of her coat.

“It’s appropriate.”

And walked away.

“Wait, but the book…”

She was already gone.

Only then did you really notice it was perfume.

Cuir Béluga by Guerlain.

You smiled.

Unbelievable.

It didn’t take long before you searched up the price of that tiny bottle and your jaw dropped when you saw it cost $500.

God.

She spent her money on that, her time.

Inside the box, there was a card. Elegant handwriting on fine paper.

“If you’re going to be by my side, don’t smell like cheap chocolate.”

Ouch.

You liked your perfume…

But there was something about smelling like whatever Agatha Harkness had chosen for you that made you feel special.

Not a nothing.

[...]

The next day, the atmosphere in the office was… strange. As if someone had sprayed optimism into the air vents. People were smiling more. Even the interns seemed less tense.

You frowned when a coworker, whose name you didn’t even know, showed up with a cup of hot coffee with your name scribbled on the lid.

“Well, well, look who’s the star of the hour!” He grinned, holding up his hand for a high five, way too excited for a Tuesday morning.

You hesitated, but gave his hand a light tap, already scanning the room behind him, looking for Billy.

Billy was staring back at you from across the floor, arms crossed. His expression mirrored yours.

What the hell is going on?

“Oh, and Barkley wants to see you.” The guy added before bouncing off with his headphones on.

You glanced at Billy again and he just shrugged.

With a sigh, you headed to Barkley’s office.

The door opened to reveal a room buzzing with cheerful voices, clinking glasses, and an absurd bouquet of flowers on the center of the conference table.

Everyone was there. Directors, coordinators, people too important for you to remember their names. But your gaze froze the second she came into view.

Agatha.

She wore a deep purple dress, tailored to perfection. Her hair fell like perfect waves, makeup subtle, and a brooch pinned to her dress.

Your heart stuttered, like something inside your chest had clenched. She looked like a walking spell.

And unlike the others, she didn’t smile when she saw you.

“There she is!” Barkley exclaimed with that typical energy of someone who loves to pour gasoline on fires. She gestured grandly like she was unveiling a relic. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the mind behind the candidate’s new communication strategy. A true rising star. A fresh perspective. And only… how old are you, darling?”

You gave a small, awkward smile, feeling the heat climb your neck.

Agatha crossed her arms.

“Twenty,” you answered stiffly.

“Twenty!” Barkley repeated, clapping like she’d just discovered the cure for cancer and was saying hallelujah. “And already redefining political discourse for a new generation. We’re in good hands, people.”

Applause followed. And you saw Agatha looking away, tense, her jaw tight.

After several minutes of speeches, toasts, and clapping you weren’t sure you deserved, the meeting ended with more promises than decisions. People began filing out, laughing and chatting. You turned to leave as well, until…

“You.” Agatha’s voice. Low and sharp like a blade.

You turned.

She walked toward you slowly, her eyes cold.

Right.

Agatha.

Your boss.

Not the woman who was with you last afternoon in the library.

Should you thank her? For the perfume? For the note?

“I’d like to know why you’re wasting time at social meetings instead of reviewing the speech for Friday night’s event.”

It hit like a slap.

You blinked, confused.

“But… I… Barkley invited me. She said…”

“Oh, of course! Show your face. Smile for the investors. Win allies with that charming college student act…” her voice was low, controlled, but the venom was unmistakable.

Something in it unsettled you.

You frowned.

“What’s wrong with that?”

Agatha sighed, like your question was childish. She ran a hand across her forehead. Elegant, but impatient.

“Don’t you see you’re being used as bait? Barkley loves doing that. Picks someone young, attractive, well-spoken… sells them as a symbol of politically engaged youth. But deep down, she doesn’t care what you think. She only wants what you represent.”

You knew that. You’d read all about Jennifer before stepping into this mess.

Was she… defending you?

Or attacking you?

“So you think I’m not good enough? That I’m just a pretty face for the boardroom?” Your voice came out louder than intended.

Agatha stepped back, straightened her posture, chin lifting.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, girl,” her tone was glacial. “But if you want to stay on my team, stop playing the backstage star. You have a job, a very specific one. Stay focused.”

She sounded logical, rational. But she wasn’t. You knew she wasn’t. Her team? Of course you were on her team. She was paying you. Everyone here was on Agatha’s team.

“You’re mad because of this?” Your voice softened, now genuinely confused. “Because I got attention? Because people liked my proposal? Because…”

You paused.

Her eyes sparked.

Silence.

You continued, barely breathing.

“Because I was smiling at other people?”

She took a moment.

One beat, two.

“I don’t have the time or age for this,” that was all she said before turning away. “And I expect all speeches I’m delivering this month, plus the merchandising plan for the marketing team, on my desk by Thursday.”

“But that’s impossible…” It was impossible, it was unethical. It was so many things…

She turned to you, studying your desperate expression.

Then smiled.

“I thought nothing was impossible for Barkley’s golden girl.” She said, the title dripped like poison.

And just like that, she left.

You stood frozen in the middle of the room, trying to make sense of it all.

How could one woman be so complicated and so hot at the same time? You were definitely going to lose your mind.

[...]

Time passed, and you got home with your head spinning, already pulling out your notebook and trusty tablet to keep working. Hours went by, and you didn’t even notice when Carol walked in.

“Hey, Bear!” She shouted, waving her hand in front of you.

“Carol! Hi!”

“What world were you in? Working from home?”

“Sorry, too much on my mind!”

“Look, I brought Chinese food.” She said, pointing to the takeout bags on the counter. You sighed in relief.

“You’re an angel. I’m starving…”

And as you both ate in silence, she dropped it.

“You’ve been really distracted lately. Like… your head’s somewhere else,” she said, using her chopsticks to poke at her noodles. “Is something going on?”

You chewed slowly, processing the question.

“It’s nothing serious. Just the internship, college…”

“Bear, you’ve always been a terrible liar,” she chuckled, her eyes finally locking with yours. “Seriously, what’s going on? You can tell me.”

“I’m fine, Carol. Just tired.”

“Is this about America’s favorite candidate, isn't?” She asked, tone laced with quiet sarcasm, like the name left a bad taste.

“Candidate Harkness?” You replied, almost in panic. God, were you really that obvious? Or did Carol just know you too well?

“No, of course not.”

“Bear, come on,” she set the chopsticks down and leaned across the table. “You’ve been different ever since you started that internship. Like… you don’t laugh the same. You seem obsessed with this job. That's not healthy, you know, right?”

“Carol, I—”

But she was already too close, leaning over the table. Your breaths mingling.

“You know I hate being ignored, right, Bear?” Her voice was soft, teasing. And her eyes—so different from Agatha’s—held that old familiar spark of desire.

“Carol…” You whispered, feeling her come closer, her face inches from yours.

You didn’t want to kiss her again. No matter how safe it felt, no matter how comfortable.

Because it wasn’t her kiss you wanted.

And that’s when someone knocked at the door.

Short, sharp and impatient.

You jerked back as if burned.

“Who the hell knocks at this hour?” Carol muttered, annoyed.

You peeked through the peephole and your heart stopped for a full second.

It couldn’t be.

But it was.

Agatha Harkness.

Wearing informal clothes. No makeup, with that unreadable look as always in her eyes.

You opened the door.

“What are you doing here?”

She looked at you for a moment that lasted too long, as if the question didn’t matter.

Or as if the answer would set you on fire.

~*~

MotherHark huh? I bet you would fall in this marketing smiling lmao (me too)

It's not cool to have sex with your boss for that reason, you know Lol instead of a hate office sex you'll receive more and more demands

Can this be considered a cliffhanger?? If yes, I'm sorry loll

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher @reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good @imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqlz @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp @lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse @imaginaryblogger01 @aboutcustardcreams @upsidedowndanvers @starbucks-06 @absolute-memegarbage @trinity2k @greyella @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose @whitelotus00 @dandelions4us @creaturesaphique @warpdrive-witch @sweetmidnights @dingdongthetail @mommy-mommy-mommy-hi @milfovers4 @jaylie-bee @holystrangersalad @chlondykebar @natashashill @harknessshi @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @ahintofchaos @lowlyjelly

#agatha all along #wlw post #checkmate #agatha harkness x fem reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #domme mommy #mommy k!nk #lgbtq #lgbtqia #agatha harkness x reader #mommy knows best #dom mommy #bdsmkink #bdsmdominant #older woman younger girl

160 notes · View notes