Retired Hero: Shooting Star (1)
Bubble bubble. The doenjang jjigae simmered in the earthenware pot, letting off a satisfying sound. The rich, savory aroma filling the kitchen seeped into the soft orange glow of the living room lights, wrapping the space in warmth. Anyone stepping through the front door would instantly feel it—this was a happy home, the picture of ordinary family bliss at dinnertime.
"Husband should be home soon..." Han Sara wiped her hands on her apron as she turned down the gas stove, a gentle smile spreading across her face.
In the past, Sara had been Shooting Star, a promising C-grade hero basking in the public's adoration. Her C-grade status was thanks to the Juvenile Hero Protection Act—even as a minor, whispers had pegged her at B+ potential, her missions limited by rank. I was so beautiful back then... She remembered slicing through the air in her skintight bodysuit, subduing criminals with agile precision. Her looks shone even under the barrage of media flashes, the envy of many.
But today's Shooting Star was just a plain housewife in a faded T-shirt, stretched-out pants, and an oil-stained apron. And yet, Sara felt no misfortune. Deep in her heart burned a fierce pride—one that would make the neighborhood wives green with envy—that she and her husband had been lovebirds for over twenty years.
Can't afford dermatology or Pilates on his salary... but this is pretty damn good, right? Gazing at her silhouette in the living room window, Sara smiled contentedly. She firmly believed that her daily cleaning, scrubbing, and occasional YouTube home workouts kept her as dazzling as in her hero days.
Above all, she thought of her son, Ohu—the boy so precious she could put him in her eyes without pain—the day she got pregnant with him. If I'd kept heroing after marriage, he wouldn't have had to struggle alone...
When Ohu was born, she'd retired without a second thought, choosing to stay by her child's side as a full-time mom. No regrets about that choice. If anything, she thanked God every night for this simple life—boiling stew for her husband each evening—over the flashy, dangerous, lonely past.
Ding-dong, beep. Click. The door lock chimed, and the metal door swung open. In walked Ha Deok-gu, the sturdy breadwinner supporting the family alone as a psychological counselor.
"Honey! Welcome home?"
The heavy thud of his footsteps carried the weight of his day, squeezing Sara's heart. She hurried to the entryway, greeting him with a flawless, beaming smile—the happiest woman in the world. She took his thick coat with familiar ease, whispering tenderly.
"It's pretty chilly out there, huh? How was your day? Counseling go okay?"
Despite her barrage of loving questions, Deok-gu barely met her eyes.
"Same as always. Fuck, I'm beat. Just give me food."
He kicked off his shoes haphazardly, grumbling curtly with a sour face.
His cold response didn't faze Sara. Emotional labor out there must stress him out so much. I need to do better. She rationalized his gruffness affectionately, hanging his coat and humming back to the kitchen.
The lovingly prepared dinner steamed on the table. The devoted wife and weary, indifferent husband sat across the narrow table. Amid the clink of chopsticks on bowls, their everyday chat flowed—naturally drifting to their son Ohu, the repeater at cram school.
"So that little shit's late again? Pouring money into his academy, and look at his mock exam scores—what a joke."
Deok-gu chewed his rice sloppily, spitting venom. Sara's brow furrowed slightly at the contempt in his voice toward their son—usually, she'd just nod along.
"Honey, don't call him 'that shit.' Ohu's trying his best. Grades don't skyrocket overnight—you gotta trust and wait patiently."
Her voice gained strength as she defended him. Ohu, her sole treasure, earned by sacrificing her glory and career—maternal instinct boiled up. Her face, usually smiling before her husband, hardened.
Thud. She slammed her stew spoon on the table.
"You're too harsh on him. Are you even listening? Even if you're the breadwinner, you can't talk to Ohu like—"
Deok-gu paused mid-chew, face twisting in irritation at her fierce pushback. He rummaged irritably in his pants pocket and pulled out his smartphone.
"Fuck, you're getting mouthy."
He stared straight into Sara's eyes, thumbing the screen deliberately.
"Eat your damn food, you worthless cunt."
With a pissed-off scowl, he tapped the phone screen a few times. Thump. He tossed it on the table.
"Honey, you're right... I was too chatty. Sorry for whining when you've made such tasty food."
Sara's body froze mid-rebuke, veins bulging in her eyes. Then her voice turned soft, coquettish.
Deok-gu snorted at her calling her own cooking "whiny fodder."
"Honey, I'll wash up and head to the bedroom first. Looking forward to tonight..."
She rose, swaying her hips seductively toward the master bath. Deok-gu sneered at her back.
"Yeah. That's more like it, you bitch."
The bathroom door clicked shut and locked. Sara stripped off her stretched T-shirt, pants, and underwear in a heap. Naked, she stood before the fogging mirror, examining her body.
The reflection was a canvas of blue-black and yellow bruises. Vicious pinches and twists marred her chest. Her nipples, grotesquely asymmetrical, crusted with dried pus.
They say I look like a virgin despite my age... but auntie body's got its limits.
Sara saw those horrors as natural signs of aging—and proof of her passionate marriage.
The neighbor lady just sees the surface and calls me pretty... but my husband's different. Even her sagging, ugly aged flesh moved him to such fervor—she was touched.
"Ow... it hurts..."
Her finger prodded a dark bruise near her ribs, pain like a cracked bone. But she beamed innocently at the mirror.
"Total auntie now, Sara. No wonder he loves it."
Her hand drifted lower. A crude tattoo scarred her bulging lower belly—like burned-in branding. She caressed it like a cherished medal.
After scrubbing off the food smells with hot water, Sara hummed toward the master bedroom where Deok-gu waited. The lights were dim.
Thwack! Thwack! Wet flesh slapped rhythmically, filling the room.
Squelch! Slap!
"Guh...! Hah, haaang...! Honeyyy...!"
Only her choking gasps and strangled gurgles punctuated the air.
"Shu... guh! Shut...!"
Deok-gu straddled her, one hand throttling her throat roughly.
Crack!
"Hngh! Guh...!"
His free hand battered her cheek and breasts mercilessly.
"Shut the fuck up."
His eyes weren't on his heaving wife—they glued to his smartphone propped on the headboard. The blue glow flickered with live sports toto results spinning wildly.
To him, this was just jerking off to relieve tension. Sara, though...
Aah... why's my husband so passionate today? Too happy. Twenty years, never disappointed me once...
Her vision blurred as her eyes rolled back, blood trickling from her split cheek. Amid the body-aching pain, she writhed in ecstasy.
"Ah, my back hurts. Get on top, bitch."
Deok-gu flopped onto the bed irritably, gripping his phone with both hands, nose-deep in the baseball broadcast.
"C-can I...?"
"Fuck, if you're gonna bitch, quit the baseball!"
Sara clutched her bruised throat, coughing, but scrambled atop him into cowgirl.
"I'll... do it..."
Blushing atop her indifferent husband—who spared her not a glance—she felt thrilled. Over twenty years, he'd always led vigorously, no effort from her. Riding him like this was rare.
Feels like our wedding night. Kinda nervous...
She smiled shyly, rocking her hips.
Squelch. Squelch.
"Ah... ah... haaah...!"
Suddenly, daytime gossip with the neighbor ladies flashed—naughty pillow talk.
"On days hubby's beat from work, wife rides tight and squeezes. Otherwise, he gripes about 'duty defense' and shit."
My man's exhausted from counseling. Gotta work hard, melt his stress away.
Armed with devotion, she ground her hips fervently.
Squelch. Squelch.
"Haa... hngh...!"
Lost in trance, her rhythm faltered slightly. The new angle misaligned oddly—deep inside, a spot untouched before rubbed relentlessly by her own weight.
Zing. An alien sensation shot up her spine.
"Wha...? Ah, aaah...!"
Something's... different...
"Hngh!"
Not like the orgasms from twenty years with Deok-gu—those heated her brain first.
This... this is...
Different. Electric friction sparked from her core, tingling through her channel. It numbed her right thigh first, then ignited every nerve, setting her body ablaze.
"Aaaaaaaah—!!"
Her body arched bowstring-tight, convulsing wildly. Eyes rolled, ugly moans erupted.
My body's... moving on its own...!
As she spasmed and clenched, Deok-gu's brow furrowed, still phone-fixed.
"Fuck, annoying as shit. What's your deal? Loosen up, you sow."
Bottom 9th, 2 outs. His bet team trailed by one—he was blind to everything, not even thinking of the Hypnosis App to tweak her. Sweat gripped his phone, praying for a comeback.
That tiny lag shattered twenty years of hell.
"Hahk, haaaah..."
True pleasure swept her—ripping the hypnosis crushing her brain for two decades.
Beeeep—
Collapsed atop him, trembling in exhaustion, tinnitus rang in Sara's ears. A migraine like bursting vessels hit.
...Who the hell are you?
Her blurred vision sharpened.