#and yet having nobody to confide to. nobody she really trusts

[narrated]

now let's talk about cassandra de rolo, can we talk about cassandra de rolo, please i've been dying to talk about cassandra de rolo all day

[simpxxstan]

Nobody Else (final: part 2)

pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader

genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), arranged marriage, a lot of angst, and some fluff.

summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?

chapter word count: 22.8k

warnings: angst warnings: overthinking, anxiety, a lot of it. spiralling, constant worries, mention of insomnia. mention of illnesses and a lung tumour, hospitals, medical treatments, relapse. discussions about death. please do not read if you find these triggering! a lot of arguing and usage of profanities. mention of smoking, drinking, food.

smut warnings: oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, unprotected sex, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart, princess, baby for female), degradation, usage of sir (for male), sir kink, marriage kink, breeding kink, office sex, elevator sex, sex in a public place.

a/n: OH MY GOD. so many people were waiting for this, i can't even imagine. i've had some really tough months when i could not find time to write at all, so i am very sorry for the delay. well, here you go! i hope it meets your satisfactions! putting the taglist in a reblog because the fanfic itself is massive. please let me know your thoughts!! reblogs, comments and asks are so appreciated <3 thank you for reading!

part 1

You bite your nails nervously. You do this often, it’s a habit you mask well through regular manicures at your home. No one knows about it. No one needs to know. 

You’ve tried it all in these last two days, you swear. You’ve tried every trick on the web- listing the pros and cons of your thoughts on a sheet of paper (on your phone’s notes app), venting to someone (yourself in the mirror), meditation, drinking wine and unwinding in a bathtub, listening to white noise to help you sleep. 

It doesn’t help. Nothing does. Nothing helps to erase the thoughts from your mind, nothing helps to stop the cogs and wheels of the gears turning in your head, nothing helps to drown out the noise of your overthinking. You’ve worried yourself to a fever, and it’s on the fourth day that Jisung caves in and asks you, “Ma’am, are you doing okay?”

You can trust him, you know that. He had, after all, not outed your antics to your mother in spite of her attempts at bribing him with a higher salary. He had remained loyal to you, as he had himself confirmed when you’d brought up the issue with him the day after the fateful lunch invitation. 

But he feels too close, too personal, and yet too distant. He would understand, and yet nothing at all. It feels like a gamble.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” You smile, while popping another paracetamol. At least the fever and its meds help you sleep. 

“You don’t look like yourself. I don’t know if I am in a position to say this, but… is this about the thing your mother discussed with you Ma’am?”

“Are you reading my mind, Jisung-ah? Is that your secret to being the best secretary in the world?” You chuckle drily, staring outside the glass window that makes up a wall in your office. It’s a rainy day, not the stormy kind, but the pestering kind. Where it drizzles light enough that people don’t want to carry umbrellas, but the rain is so insistent, it drenches you right through anyway. 

“I don’t know how appropriate it is for me to ask anything regarding this Ma’am. But I genuinely am curious about how Mr Y/L/N and Mr Jeon agreed to it in the first place.”

On the day you’d spoken to him about the entire affair, you’d told him the truth about your relationship with Wonwoo. His loyalty had earned him at least this much truth, and you were glad to have a confidant. You tried to play it off as coolly as you could, but as soon as you’d spilled the truth, you’d realise what a big weight had been relieved off your chest. It felt like being a teenager again. You had explained to Jisung that it was not romantic in the least, and in fact, you wanted to draw an end to it. You didn’t care to tell him that it was because you were addicted like a drug. 

That was the problem. These last three days wouldn’t have become such a burden for you had you simply called Wonwoo and sought his help. Like a magician, he’d silence the thoughts in your mind and leave you with more clarity than ever, almost like a fresh slate beginning anew. You knew he was the perfect solution, but you had decided to cut it off. There was no point in persisting in this kind of a relationship where you weren’t even friends, not even on talking terms, and yet you needed him to stabilise you. All while he didn’t need you at all. For him, you were just another of his regulars. He’s probably already replaced you by now. 

“My mother can be… very capable when she wants. She has her ways.”

“I’m sure she does. It must not have been an easy feat to swallow pride to agree to the idea of the wedding and take the Jeons out for lunch.”

Words get stuck in your throat. Pride. You’ve never let go of it. Life has been humbling, but you’ve never stopped being proud of who you are and what you’ve been able to achieve. All the dreams you’ve fulfilled. It forms an integral part of who you’ve become, your identity, and the way you perceive yourself. You’ve tried to not let it become arrogance nor vanity, although you have had sufficient reasons. That discipline is also something you pride yourself on. 

“But I guess it’s not a big price for happiness,” Jisung completes his little philosophical speech and busies himself with arranging out letters on your desk that need to be signed, arranged in order of urgency. “I’ll be at my desk Ma’am, should you need any help.” He bows and leaves the room, and you’re still staring out of the window. 

Happiness. 

What an odd word.  What an odd sensation for the billions of people across the world to be chasing all their lives. You had always considered yourself to be above that rat race for gratification and validation. Your successes spoke for itself, and you had no reason to consider yourself unhappy when you were living the dream you’d envisioned since you were a child. 

But are you happy?

_

It’s just for an enjoyable late night drive, you reason with yourself when you find yourself driving on the road that takes you from your office to Wonwoo’s office building. It’s just to see if their coffee has improved, you think, when you step into the building and walk inside. It’s just to see if their employees are forced to work overtime, you figure, when you’re granted a visitor pass by the reception desk even though they’re shocked to see you here. 

“What are you doing here?”

Wonwoo stares at you from the end of the corridor. It’s not lit very brightly and totally empty. 

“Are you busy?”

Wonwoo’s tongue goes into his left cheek, you see it through his skin. He’s wearing a suit in baby blue. You knew he’d look good in blue. 

“Yes. I’m working late as you can see. I don’t enjoy it particularly, so I don’t do it unless I’m really behind on work.”

And why’s that so? Trying to catch up with our closing figures for the financial year? A snarky comment is on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t want to say it. The jibe feels tasteless, even for you. 

No, tonight you’re here in desperation, you finally admit to yourself. You’re here because like any other addict, it’s hard to let go once you get used to the high of happiness you ride when the dopamine kicks in.

“Sorry. I’ll leave.” His rejection is clear. He knows what you’re here for, that’s for sure. You’d never go out of your way to come to his office if it had been for anything else. It’s a good reminder call of reality. 

This is the boy your parents want you to marry. This is the boy you rejected from marrying and from sleeping with. He has every right to turn you down now.

Wonwoo takes a step forward, you take a step backward. It’s a dance. You pause, you don’t even know when you were on the verge of tears. You bite your lips and turn away your face. You walk away quickly, as silently as you arrived. Your thoughts are loud enough to mask the sound of Wonwoo jogging after you, and you only realise when he grabs your arm as soon as you enter the elevator. He enters too, naturally, face a bit flushed from the chase, but before you can ask him what’s up, he pushes you against the mirror on the back of the elevator and kisses you hard. 

It knocks your breath away. In the best way possible. 

You kiss him back. Wildly, passionately. Like lovers, you would think in retrospection, not like rivals who fuck. As if you’d missed each other. Another second of overthinking and you’d delude yourself into believing that he needs you as much as you do. But thankfully, he kisses well enough to wash your thoughts away. 

“Don’t run away from me like that, girl.” He snarls near your ear, his breath making you ticklish, and you whimper when he begins to kiss your neck. He’s going to leave marks again, and frankly, you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand him. Not when your brain is finally drifting away from the anxiety. 

The elevator dings just as he puts his lips back on yours, tongue forcing itself in. You break apart, gasping for air. You haven’t even noticed what a mess you’ve made of his hair. “Wonwoo I… I can leave, really. If you’re busy.” “No, stay.” He doesn’t step away from you even when the elevator door opens, holding you down with his hands, keeping you close to him. The elevator door closes again, and he frantically presses the floor number of his office. “Come with me while I pack up,” he says as an explanation, and you understand. Then he unbuttons your shirt and begins to suck bruises all over the exposed flesh over your collarbones and chest, hands fondling with your breasts. Even over the bra, he instantly finds your nipples and rubs them to perfect hardness, making them so sensitive, that when he lifts you up into his arms and wraps your legs around his waist, your nipples brush against his face and he can feel the nubs poking out. 

“You get turned on like you’re a touch-starved bitch,” he says roughly, making you thrash your arms against his back for the rudeness, before chuckling and thrusting his mouth onto the clothed nipples to suck them while he walks out of the elevator, holding you in his arms still, and seemingly facing no difficulty in walking at all. You become silent again, as you ponder on how strong he really must be, and his bites at your nipples do nothing to prevent the manhandling kink from showing itself. 

“Take me on your desk, Wonwoo.” You beg as he enters his office, but he laughs and puts you down on his chair. Thankfully the entire floor is empty. He begins to arrange papers and turn off his desktop, while you sit silently at his desk. The high slowly wears out as his clearing up takes longer and longer, until you’re no longer turned on anymore and reality strikes. 

He looks at you once all the work is done, staring deep at your soul, making you feel naked. Consciously, you start to button up your shirt and fix your collar.

“I thought we were done with this, Y/N.”

He says it like you’d dumped him while dating, and it’s funny. But you can’t laugh. You did cut him off and now you’re begging him to take you back. It’s a little absurd- inconsistency has never been one of your weaknesses. You’re tempted to dissect it in your brain and understand why it’s happening, but you fall into a spiral of overthinking again.

It’s getting tough to breathe.

You stand up and walk around the room. It’s spacious, with a simple layout, nothing modern like your own office space. You can’t blame it, it definitely screams Wonwoo to you. Instead of huge windows on the walls, he has mahogany shelves stacked with books. Instead of a statement chandelier, he has minimalist lights in focal points of the room. Instead of a charcoal grey settee with everything in cool shades of steel, his office is done in off-white, decorated with rich tones of wood. The room tells you so much about Wonwoo, although you probably know it all already- legacy, tradition and diligence. This is what he’s made of, old money that takes no risks and succeeds without gambles. 

“You know why I had to come back.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” He walks up to you, standing in front of you, as you gaze at the books on his shelves. “Y/N, look at me.” And you do. He looks like Adonis and you want to kiss him. “You said it was getting toxic for you.” He snaps you back to attention, and you sigh. “I can’t… Wonwoo, I tried. But I…” you walk away, unable to continue. Continuing would mean telling him what’s driving you to the brink of anxiety every moment of the day.

“We can talk. If this is about that day, we’re in this together. We may not be friends, but we can be allies in this.” 

The simple way in which he says these words, you don’t think he realises how much more vulnerable he makes you feel. How much more tempted to spill it all to him and be relieved of the burden of this worry. 

“I don’t want to talk to you, Wonwoo. I didn’t come here for talking.” You walk back towards him. “Fuck me and make my brain stop thinking, please.” He closes his eyes for a second. The tension is palpable, it’s making your palms sweat. You tilt your head and gently lean in to kiss the edge of his jaw. His stubble grazes against your softer lips and it’s a nice feeling. 

“I can’t say no when you ask like this.”

_

You wake up in the middle of the night, clammy with sweat and naked under the sheets, alone in Wonwoo’s king-sized bed. Your wrists hurt from being tied with his tie for too long, and you’re definitely too sore to move, but the pleasant buzz all over your body is too good a sensation to forgo. But now that you’ve woken up, you feel thirsty and hot all over, so you get out of bed. You notice your underwear neatly kept on the couch, Wonwoo had taken care to not rip them. You quickly wear them before looking for any waterbottle in the room. Seeing none, and not seeing Wonwoo either, you open the bedroom door and slowly tiptoe your way outside. Once past the small corridor, you notice there’s a dim light in the kitchen, and you can see Wonwoo’s shadow from far away. As you step closer, you notice he’s wearing formals, complete with a glazing white shirt and a grey tie, and his hair is brushed back neatly, although his pants are still pyjamas. He’s doing something on his laptop. You wait in the shadows for a few minutes, trying to understand if he’s in a video meeting or something, but you only hear frantic typing noises from the kitchen. After a whole five minutes pass, you step into the kitchen, and Wonwoo looks up at the same time. 

“Oh! You scared me.”

“Are you in a meeting?”

“No, it got over a while back. Why are you up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“The meeting was with a firm in Canada. They couldn’t adjust timings.”

“And you couldn’t get someone else to do it for you?” You huff, annoyed at how unbothered he is about waking up this ungodly hour and sitting for meetings. You once again thank Jisung for scheduling foreign meetings at suitable timings.

“Do you get someone else to attend your important meetings for you?” 

You both stay in silence for a minute, Wonwoo sitting on his kitchen stool, and you standing awkwardly near the door, staring at each other. It’s only when you start shivering in the cold that you realise what you actually came here for.

“You’re working hard. Too hard. Don’t try to compete with me, Jeon.” You lean down on the island next to him, close enough to hear his breathing but not touching him at all. 

“Go to bed, Y/N.”

“I was thirsty. Where do you keep water in your house?” 

He gets up from his stool and brings a bottle. “Drink, and go to sleep. Or go home.”

You silently sip the cool water, without replying. You can see the dawn slowly coming up from the window in the kitchen, lighting the room up. The circles under Wonwoo’s eyes become prominent to you, and for no reason at all, your heart aches. This is what it’s going to be like, marrying you, Jeon Wonwoo, you think, as you look at him with a careful glance. He’s focusing on his laptop again, typing at light speed, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. You’re sipping water from his bottle, in his kitchen, wearing nothing but your underwear, and watching the sunrise. Is this what those nights filled with deadlines and insomnia are going to look like if you get married? Is this what staying up together will look like? Is this what watching the dawn together will be like? The sensation tingles your nerves and makes you anxious again. 

“Y/N, if you want to say something, just say it. Or go to sleep, trust me. You’ll need to wake up fresh tomorrow morning.”

The kitchen is warm, cosy, and filled with the familiar scent of Wonwoo’s body. You want to stay wrapped in it, and not say a word. You don’t want to break this moment, although you have no idea why sharing this simple moment is making you so emotional. Perhaps because you’ve never done it before and never imagined you would do it?

“My father is dying, Wonwoo.” 

Wonwoo stops typing and looks up.

“He has a tumour in his lungs.”

“Since when?”

“A few months now. He hadn’t told me. He didn’t want to bother me, my mom said.”

There’s a beat of silence. Again the warmth of the kitchen wraps you up and you both stare out at the slowly brightening sky outside. As a girl, you’d hate watching the sunrise. It would remind you of the nights you’d been unable to sleep and had been forced to stay up all night. But now, you can appreciate its beauty. Its consistency, its reliability. It happens every day. One of the precious few things that happen regularly, you’ve come to realise. 

Wonwoo breaks the silence. “So why now?”

“Huh?”

“Why tell you now, of all times?”

“He wants to see me married before he dies.”

Wonwoo shuts down the lid of his laptop with a smash, knowing fully what’s coming next.

“Y/N. What do you want?” He stands up and comes to stand next to you, leaning against the counter and looking down at you.

There are many things you want to say. I don’t want to throw away my freedom. I don’t want to marry a stranger. I don’t want to dance to my Appa’s whims. I don’t want to lose focus on my career. I don’t want to marry you. “I don’t want to disappoint him, Wonwoo.” It’s the ultimate truth. It’s what has fueled you for years- the desire to become that child for your parents who would take care of them when they need you, to love silently and support unconditionally, to give back everything they’d given to you. 

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“Is this what you were so worried about?” You look up at him, and he tilts your face upwards with his hand on your chin. You want to lean into the warmth of his palm. “Yes. I don’t… I … I don’t know what to do. I feel so helpless.”

“What about treatment?”

“Stage 4, practically impossible, that’s what the reports say. My mom showed them to me. She cried so much, and I… I couldn’t do anything. I can’t do anything.” You move away from him, turning your body to the other side. He lets you move away.

“Treatment abroad? In the US?”

“Yes, that’s… that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I’ve spoken to a few people, but Appa is adamant. He refuses to talk to me about this every time I’ve raised it, these last few days.”

He sighs. Your heart aches again. You don’t even notice when tears begin rolling down your cheeks. You’ve never felt more alone than this, more helpless, more pitiful. What worth were your dreams and successes if life successfully left you unshielded in one stroke?

“Let’s get married. You’ll have more bargaining power to talk to him then.”

He makes it sound so simple. You’ve thought of this a hundred times before, and you still can’t register that he just said that. You turn around slowly, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes. “Don’t joke with me.”

“I’m not.”

“But I don’t want to marry you.”

“Even if it gets your Appa into a good treatment abroad?”

You stomp your foot, and hurt your bare toes on the cold tile. “Why is my Appa so stubborn?”

“Just like you, isn’t he?”

You glare at Wonwoo, but he’s deadly serious. There’s not a hint of a joke on his face, and he genuinely seems to be invested in this idea. “You’re serious.” “I am. I wouldn’t offer marriage to you casually.” You bite your lip, your heart rate begins to slow down. Wave after wave of calm washes over you, suddenly you can breathe well again. “You’re serious,” you say again, not believing it still. “I am. Do you want me to go down on my knees?” “Wonwoo, you’re not thinking about this. Don’t turn your back on me when you regret it later. This isn’t a light thing, it’s a marriage, for fuck’s sake!” “Is your Appa’s life more precious than your ego?” “If it weren’t, I wouldn’t have come begging to you, would I?” “Then you know why I’m agreeing to this.” “Wonwoo, don’t take this on your conscience. I’ll forgive you if you step back right now.” “I won’t forgive myself.” He bends down to your eye level, and takes your chin in his hand again. “It isn’t going to be that bad, is it?”

You let out such a big sigh of relief that you’re sure the air tickles Wonwoo’s palm holding on to your chin. 

_

You don’t fall asleep that night, or rather morning. Wonwoo makes tea, and you sit on the living room couch, an arm’s distance away from each other, chalking out a plan to convince your Appa to go abroad for treatment.

“When did your mother come and tell you all this?”

“The day after the lunch. She called me over.”

You’re our breadwinner now, Y/N. Your father didn’t want to tell you because he doesn’t want to bother you anymore. Your mother’s words echo in your mind. Is this what you’d come down to? Were you that male who couldn’t be bothered with any problems of the household just because you earned an income? Had you become those slimy men you’d hated all your life? Just because you had taken over the company didn’t mean you had stopped being their daughter, for god’s sake. 

“He wants to die in Korea, he says.”

“That doesn’t mean we let him die without treatment.”

We. Wonwoo has started using it so freely, as if he’s truly considering you an ally like he had said before. 

“What are you going to get out of this?” You perch yourself on the kitchen counter, your bare legs dangling next to where Wonwoo sits on his stool. You’re chewing on the granola bar you found in the fridge because you’re suddenly hungry.

Wonwoo looks at you for a second, pensive and thoughtful in the pause before replying. “We don’t have to do forever and always. We can divorce after the treatment is done.” 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I have my reasons.”

The sunrise is beautiful, another day has begun. Although one tornado in your heart has calmed down, it doesn’t mean you’re completely at peace though. You’re still burning with worry, there are a thousand questions floating in your head. You don’t know the answers to most of them, and you’re scared just like you had been when you had stepped into the adult world on your own footing, for the first time. But unconsciously, you’ve come to realise that you’re not alone this time.

You have Jeon Wonwoo with you.

_

You drive directly to your sister’s house to tell her about your decision. You realise that she has no idea that your mother has spilled the news about your father’s health to you, when you tell her that you’re only agreeing to this marriage on one condition. She tries to deny it at first, but then she realises it’s a useless task against your obstinacy. 

“If you could admit now that you were dating Wonwoo, why didn’t you admit it that day?” she says finally, resignedly. 

“So that you could hide Appa’s illness from me forever?

“It’s nothing like that.”

“Firstly, tell me why you’d been stalking me for so long.”

“Not for so long. Ever since Appa found out, he became obsessed with settling you down. It’s become his last wish, you know, that kind of thing. His last project. His last duty. His last task to complete before he… you know. It was just a happy coincidence that as soon as we prodded your chauffeur he spilled that you and Wonwoo had been spending an awful lot of time together.”

You scoff. 

“Yeah, well, Wonwoo and I needed to talk over things. Commitment and stuff. Anyway, now we’ll give Appa what he wants. Promise me you won’t object to anything I say. Promise me you and Mom will back me up when I take him to the US for treatment.”

Her eyes soften down, tears brimming on the edge.

“He always loved you more, you know? Probably because you’re exactly like him.” “Unnie…” “No! I’m not jealous or anything. It’s natural to have a favourite child. He’s only human, after all. He found his ideal child in you- responsible and independent. He really sees himself in you, that’s why.” 

You hug your sister from the side, as you sit down on the couch. Her belly is quite bulging now, stretched against the fabric of the loose lycra dress.

“If anyone can convince him, it’s you, Y/N-ah. Our maknae. The apple of his eye.” She smiles. There’s something so broken in her eyes, and you hate it. Your Unnie, who you’ve never seen sad. You wonder how much she’s had to hide from you to keep this news a secret. You wonder how long they’d planned to keep it a secret, anyway. 

“Do you trust me, Unnie?”

She kisses your forehead, and smiles again, “Yes of course. Where’s this coming from?”

“It’s just… nothing. I just want to know I’m not alone.”

“You never were, sweetheart.”

_

After that, everything becomes a whirlwind. You barely have time to process things, how fast they happen. Wonwoo informs his parents, there’s another meal shared by the two families. You both still don’t tell anyone the truth about your relationship, and frankly, there’s no need to explain, when both families are so happy with the wedding. Especially your father. His eyes shine, and you stick by his side all evening. 

“My little girl’s all grown up now.” He says to you later. You almost cry at the fondness of his words, affection he rarely shows. There’s no more words spoken. There’s no need for words. You tuck him into bed, and pat him to sleep. You don’t want to leave his side at all.

_

You don’t cross paths with Wonwoo for the week running up to the wedding. There’s a clear division of work- he’s handling the internal logistics, and you’re running the external front. This is nothing but a business project for the two of you. You’ve pushed the worries about the marriage to the back burner, your priority being your father right now. You’ve already booked a treatment plan for him in the US, booked his flight tickets, and sorted everything out. Of course, you haven’t approached the topic with him yet, but you drop hints every day. 

You’ve decided to live with your parents until the wedding. You find it harder to stay away from them these days. Somehow, everything reminds you of them, and you’re brought to tears in the middle of a work meeting one day, when you remember how your father had brought you to the first stakeholder meeting when you were 16 years old, to introduce you to the world of business. You don’t want to leave life upto fate anymore. At least not the bits you can help. 

Part of managing the external front is speaking to the media. There’s countless questions at your latest press conference. Although the conference is to launch a new product, the journalists seem to be more interested in hearing the truth about the rumours currently floating around. You’d expected this, that’s why you’d timed the release of the rumours and the launch of the product at the same time. The public opinion needs to be in favour of your marriage, otherwise the alliance would hurt you both. 

“Y/L/N Y/N-ssi, is it true that you’re soon getting married to Jeon Wonwoo-ssi of Jeon Estates?” 

You blush, again a carefully practised move. You’ve spent many a minute in front of a youtube screen last night, trying to perfect the fake blush.

“Are we really going to discuss personal matters at an official conference like this?” Another measured smile, followed by a general laugh rippling across the audience for the sake of being polite. “But yes, it’s true. I won’t try to hide it anymore.”

At that very moment, a thousand questions pop up from all corners. “Anymore? Y/L/N Y/N-ssi, does that mean that you’ve been together for a long time now?” “Can we expect a merger of Jeon Estates with your company, then?” “Is the marriage a business decision or an affair of love?”

You’re another fake smile away from throwing up right now. Their curiosity gets on your nerves, you know that no matter what you say, they’re going to interpret what they really want to. Thankfully Jisung, who is moderating, carefully steps in and stops the journalists from asking any more questions. “We’ll not be taking any more personal questions. With that we come to the end of the conference. If you have any more questions, please write to us and we shall answer them over mail. Thank you for attending today.”

You exit the conference hall quickly, eyes hurting from the flashlights. It’s going to only get worse, you think. Time to brace for impact.

_

It’s only the night before the wedding that you get the jitters. You’re sitting on the floor of the balcony, looking at the roads of the Seoul night view, stress-eating cotton candy. You can’t believe that this is happening. Would you ever be able to have guessed this is how you’d be getting married? Not that you had ever harboured any ambitions about love or marriage. You’d been happy to see your parents share a loving marriage, and your sister as well. But since a young age, you’d decided that marriage was not for you. Sex? That was necessary. Dating? Perhaps, but casual. Love? Your first relationship in college had convinced you it was not your forte- you’d fallen out of feelings after a few months, and you had never tried to fall in love again. Marriage? Not even on the cards right now. Kids? Probably never. You didn’t think you’d live that long. 

And yet, your wedding invite was sitting idle on your lap. Printed on beautiful handmade paper, intrinsically engraved with orchid petals, and the fonts printed out in a loopy serif font, it was really pretty. Posh and classy, like everybody expected. It had been sent out to a few people only, Wonwoo had asked for a small wedding, and you had happily agreed. Having to deceive your parents and sister was bad enough. Lesser the better. 

The doorbell rings. You’re taken by surprise, not expecting anyone at this hour. Probably Jisung, perhaps he’s come to drop something off. That boy’s working too hard as well, you need to give him a raise after this entire affair is finished. 

But it’s Wonwoo. 

“Are you busy?” He asks before even entering. 

“No?”

“Can I come in?”

He looks over your figure, the long t-shirt you’re wearing with the shorts that are hidden under the t-shirt. You’re getting more confused by the moment. You open the door wider, and he steps in. 

“What’s going on?”

“There are details we need to talk about.”

You take a deep breath, leaning against the wall. Since that conversation at dawn with Wonwoo, you had started guarding yourself against him. Something had changed in your mind- you’d feel more vulnerable next to him, more bared, more naked. Even if he didn’t look at you, you’d feel like you could read your mind all the time. 

“Like what?”

“I made a contract. It’s a… guidebook of sorts.” He sits at the sofa, taking out his phone and placing it on your coffee table. He’s wearing his work clothes, so you’re guessing he’s come directly from work. “What’s it about?” You sit next to him, and he pushes your phone towards you. “Do you have a printer? We could print it out. Or you can-” “I’ll get a print. Do you want something?” He leans back on the sofa, but his posture is still stiff. You’ve not seen him like this. It’s almost like he’s nervous. “No. I need to leave quickly, so it’s best if you can go through this quickly. I don’t have time to waste.” You roll your eyes and stand up, keeping your knee perched on the sofa, terribly close to where his hand is. “What’s this attitude? We’re getting married tomorrow, and this is how you’re going to be?” “Well, what did you expect? Just because I agreed to marry and help you out, doesn’t mean I’m going to suddenly be in love with you.” “Help me out? I didn’t fucking need your help, Wonwoo!” “Really? Your desperation told me something else that night.” He’s standing up now too, and it feels like he’s towering over you on purpose to make you feel small. You take a step back, he doesn’t move forward. It’s not push and pull, it’s gravity unwinding. 

“Listen, we can still call this off. I don’t want to be an object of your pity.”

“Pity? I wanted to help you, Y/N. There’s a difference, or is your brain too ego-clouded to understand?”

“Wonwoo, I could marry anyone-”

“And yet, it was me you came to!”

“It was convenient! I couldn’t really marry … say, Jisung, when my parents had proof that we’d been sleeping together!”

“Oh, so it’s Jisung now-”

“It was a damn example!” You’re shouting now, but his voice is still low and hoarse. It creates goosebumps on your skin. 

“If that’s who you want to marry, you can go ahead. You better know that I have no desire to be wedded to you tomorrow!” He takes a step forward, and you step back. “What do you think I am, huh? Your toy? Today you want to fuck, tomorrow you want to end things, the next day you come begging at my door to blow your mind with my dick, and the day after that you want to get fucking married? You don’t think keeping up with your plot twists are stressful for me? Do you think I’m getting off on your mood swings? I am helping you, because you’re in a dire situation. Don’t you dare spin this narrative to anything else, because it is not charity or love for you that’s motivating me to step into this hell of a marriage that I can see coming.” 

With every word he utters, he steps closer and closer, and you keep walking back until your back hits the wall. And then he’s standing right in front of you, close enough that you can see the exact dilation of his pupils even beyond his glasses. “I don’t need your help, Wonwoo. I’m not a damsel in distress.” He closes his eyes for a second, breathing in. When his eyes do open again, they’re different- darker, yet with more clarity, less angry and yet more dangerous. He leans down, and for a second, for a delusional mindless moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. You part your lips, waiting for impact, as he tilts his head ever so slightly, all while staring into your soul.

“I don’t give a fuck about you, Y/N. I don’t care. I’m just repaying an old debt.”

Then he steps back and picks up his phone from the coffee table. “I’ll mail it to you. Don’t be a brat and make sure to read it.”

You’re still stuck against the wall like an insect, too stunned to move. Before he walks out of the door, he says without looking at you, “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.” 

_

The wedding dress is simple, nothing in frills. You see it for the first time when you wear it on the morning of your wedding. As you sit in your dressing room, revising your vows, your sister enters. She’s all but jumping in excitement. “Darling, why so serious?” She grabs your hands and smiles widely at you. “Today’s your big day! Don’t think about Appa’s sickness today, or work stuff, or anything at all. Your wedding day isn’t going to come back, so you make sure to make the most of it!” You wish you could laugh at her face, her words seeming ridiculous to you. You wish she wasn’t so excited, it would only save her the disappointment she’d have to face later. 

So you force a smile. “Is it time? I’m just nervous. What if I forget my vows?” “Then you forget them. You love Wonwoo, Y/N-ie. You can just declare your love freely. You don’t need to stick to a script. Go ahead and curse him if you like!” You do laugh at this, and she joins you too. “There! That’s my girl. Honestly, discovering that you and Wonwoo… together… it was a shock for us. Like, we’d never thought of you both ever liking each other. But then, it made sense. Especially what he had said that night, I remember. That’s the moment I knew, something was definitely up” You gawk, “What night?” She giggles, “That night at the party. You know? Don’t act dumb, cutie.” She wriggles her eyebrows and it dawns on you what exactly she was referring to. Fuck. Of course she had heard, fuck Wonwoo for being so damn loud. 

You got out of your head, when someone called you to the hall, telling you that it’s time. You slowly make your way out of your dressing room, making sure your dress doesn’t get spoiled. Your father waits outside the room, dressed elegantly. 

“Are you ready?”

There’s an odd peace in his eyes, as he smiles at you with pride. 

Fuck it. Thank god you’re getting married early. Otherwise who’d walk you down the aisle… if you got too late?

“Yes, Appa.” You smile back, and loop your arm through his outstretched arm. 

_

The gates of the hall open up, revealing a beautifully decorated banquet, with an announcer standing in the centre, to conduct the ceremony. All the guests turn to look at you, dressed to their nines. But you’ve got eyes on only one person in the room. 

For the first time in your life, you think Wonwoo looks beautiful. Attraction based on looks was barely something you experienced with him, but today you realise why people fell for him like dominos. He looks absolutely regal in his tuxedo- simple, yet that’s what suits him perfectly. You think, you’ve never seen Wonwoo wear anything excessive, always minimalistic, and really he looks best like that. Because he doesn’t need any accessories, his face does enough. 

“Go, sweetheart,” your father leaves you midway the walkway, and you realise you have to walk the rest of the way on your own. You bow a little to Appa, and then look up front again. Your eyes meet Wonwoo’s and your heart races. He looks too pretty to be real, and yet you find yourself walking towards him. The entire audience erupts into applause when Wonwoo takes a few steps forward and extends his hand. You take it, and he accompanies you to your place, dropping your hand only after a slight peck pressed on the back of your hand. The crowd erupts in cheers again, and for the first time in your life, you blush genuinely. 

You stand facing the announcer, not daring to look at the man next to you. You have enough time to look at him anyway. 

_

The rest of the wedding ceremony went off peacefully. After reciting your vows perfectly, hand in Wonwoo’s hand, avoiding his eye contact desperately, and exchanging the rings, the announcer asked you to kiss. Well, that was easy. He didn’t use tongue, thankfully, otherwise you would’ve moaned in public. Even the drinks and dinner arrangement afterwards was easy. Smiling and small talk came like free flow to you after so many years. 

The hard part comes later, when you both sit in your designated limousine, exhausted after the long ceremonies of the day. Your feet hurt in the heels, and using the washroom had been a pain in the dress, so you’d desperately held on to your bladder. You’re counting down the minutes to going home, and all you want is peace.

But Wonwoo, like so many other things, is not on the same page as you. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, noticing that the car’s heading in the opposite direction as your house.

“To my house.”

“Wait, what?”

He looks up from his phone. “Didn’t you read the guide?” 

“Wonwoo, I’m not jobless, you know.”

“I fucking knew it. Right, you’re too busy being a brat.” He mutters under his breath, before opening a can of a fizzy drink from the mini cooler inside the car, and looking outside the window. 

“I haven’t even packed my stuff, Wonwoo. I can shift in once I’ve got my stuff ready.”

“You don’t know how many eyes are following us? What will the media think if we get off at different apartments tonight? It was hard enough stopping my parents from booking us a honeymoon suite.” 

You sigh. He’s right. But he doesn’t stop talking.

“You’ve got time now, read the guidebook.”

“Just tell me what’s in it, Wonwoo. Stop making such a fuss about it. Also what the fuck is a guidebook without my suggestions.”

“If you’d read it, you would have made suggestions, darling. I wasted my time going to your place last night. Anyway, if you need anything urgently from your apartment, I’ll send my secretary to fetch it for you.”

“No thanks. I don’t need anything.”

Thank god you’re familiar with Wonwoo’s apartment, because you immediately lock yourself in the bedroom and take off your dress. Once it’s off, you unlock the room, and find an exasperated Wonwoo standing outside. “Woman, why are you monopolising territory already?”

“Just go change in the guest room, Wonwoo.” You push past him, dressed in underwear, carrying your heavy dress and laying it across the living room sofa to avoid creases from forming. Then you head straight into the bathroom to clean your makeup and take a shower. 30 minutes later you emerge, and Wonwoo’s nowhere to be seen. 

After a few minutes you find him on the small personal rooftop that extends from his apartment through a small flight of stairs. You’d never gone to the roof, but now you see it has a nice bench on it, and is surrounded by lights. 

Wonwoo’s smoking. 

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I didn’t know you were going to hoard my space as soon as you entered my house.”

He doesn’t look at you, still gazing out at the Seoul skyline. 

“You could’ve used the other one.”

“You could’ve used the other one.”

You breathe in once, and then speak again. 

“I’m going to bed. I’m really tired.”

“Wait.” He finally turns around, and you can see his hair is completely messed up and his eyebags are visible under his glasses again. 

“Did you take my clothes?”

“Just a pajama shirt.”

He nods, seeing what you’re wearing. The cool breeze makes your skin tingle, almost making you regret taking off your bra and wearing only panties under the shirt. 

“Goodnight.”

“You’re not coming along?”

He turns away again. Well, fuck it. It’s not like you’re going to butter him up for a response. And yet when you go downstairs again, you make sure to sleep on the left side of the bed, like you’d always done whenever you’d slept together before. You don’t know why you do it, but you go to sleep assuming he’ll eventually come to bed.

_

He doesn’t. The next morning, you wake up to see the other side of the bed absolutely empty and untouched. He’s even taken away his pillow and blanket and you suddenly find yourself shivering. When you’re awake enough, you squint at the clock on the wall and figure out that it’s almost eleven in the morning. Quite late for someone like you. But then, it has been an exhausting day. 

Did Wonwoo not sleep at all?

You put these thoughts away when you stumble into the washroom, nearly slipping because your step is unbalanced. But that minor shock completely jerks you awake at least. 

Once you’ve brushed your teeth (without even realising how your toothbrush had magically appeared in Wonwoo’s bathroom even though you hadn’t packed and brought a thing), you walk out of the room. Again, there’s no sign of Wonwoo. The house is humid, from no windows being open, so you gently open up a few sources of ventilation. As the noise from the outside world begins to float into the house, the silence gets broken and you feel less claustrophobic. Sunshine falls on the simple upholstery and decorations of the house, and it makes everything shine. It’s a hot day, but at least it’s a sunny day. You hate gloomy days. 

You quickly search for Wonwoo in every room. And you eventually notice that the bed in the guest room seems to have been slept in last night. Was that where Wonwoo had slept last night? 

It didn’t make sense. It’s not like you two had not shared a bed earlier. Sure, Wonwoo had never stayed in the same bed with you for longer than an hour after the sex, unless it was a marathon until the morning, and you rarely ever woke up next to his warm body, but it seemed absurd that he’s treating you like a complete stranger. It’s not like the movies, for fucks’ sake. You’re familiar with each other, even if you’re not in love. And sharing a bed isn’t a big deal. 

Exactly Y/N. So why are you making it such a big deal?

There’s a printout of something on the coffee table. You head over and see that it is the ‘guidebook’ he’s kept blabbering about. Why is he insisting that you read it? You have an impulse to go and dump it in the dustbin and push his limits a little further, but then you have pity on him. But it’s not like you wanted to stay with him either. He’s the one who made you come and live with him. So technically, you shouldn’t feel any remorse or pity. So you do dump the prints in the dustbin without a second look at it. 

That’s when you hear your phone ring. “Hello, I’m speaking from ABC Packages. We’re here to shift your packages from your old house to your new residence. We’re waiting outside the door, are you at home?” Huh? “I’m sorry, who asked you to do this? Do you have a name?” “Yes Ms. Y/L/N. The order came from a Jeon Wonwoo-ssi.” No wonder. “Aaah. Okay, just wanted to confirm,” you quickly say to avoid any suspicion. “Yes I’m home. I’ll open the door.” 

And so the next hour is spent in a flurry of bringing in boxes, and when the delivery persons leave, you open them all. There seems to be enough space in Wonwoo’s walk-in closet for your stuff, which isn’t much at all. So you hang up all your formals, which form the majority of your clothing, and stash the rest of it in the shelves. Your shoes are also lesser than Wonwoo’s and you barely have any accessories and makeup apart from essentials. The problem arises with your underwear and … other personal belongings. You’re not sure if Wonwoo would appreciate opening his underwear drawer to find your box of dildos stashed there. But there’s no other space, so he’ll just have to deal with it. 

Thank God you’d taken the day off. Jisung had offered that staying away from work would make the impression of the honeymoon more imminent, and you’d agreed. Although it does seem like Wonwoo had gone to work all the same. And so, you’re left all alone in the house, and while it’s a little odd, you sit at almost every surface of the apartment to get used to it. Sure, you’ve been sat at all of these before, in various positions, as Wonwoo had fucked you, but it feels different now under the sunlight. You’re not surprised to find Wonwoo’s fridge stocked almost completely with ample groceries, so making lunch isn’t a hassle (apart from the fact that you barely know how to cook anything). But all-in-all, it’s not a tedious day, and you’re settling in nicely. 

Until Wonwoo comes home, blazer on his arm and his hair messy. He lets himself in, but you’re sitting on the kitchen counter, checking out what’s kept where. “Oh, you’re here.” You turn around and see him flunking down on the sofa, legs sprawled out. “Are you that tired?” He doesn’t answer at first, just stares at you for a second too long. “I am. It’s been a long day.” “I’m making coffee, do y-” “No. I’m going to the gym now.”

Gym takes longer than you imagine. It’s well past 10 pm when Wonwoo makes his way back, and you’ve already finished your dinner of cup ramen and ice cream. He doesn’t bother to look at you and wordlessly enters the guest bathroom. You consider entering the guest room and waiting for him, and then talking to him about why he slept separately, but then you drop it. You know he won’t answer you properly, and it’ll be a waste of effort. You sigh and make your way to the bedroom, leaving the door unlocked and slightly ajar so that he knows he’s still invited inside.

_

Wonwoo and you arrive last at the little gathering your family has set up to celebrate the one month anniversary of your marriage. Wonwoo’s family is here too, along with Kyungmin Oppa and your sister, and it’s a big group even for the large sprawling, and largely empty house, where you parents reside. You’d think it’s easy to get lost in the crowd, but not when you’re the newly wed couple who’s the focus of the party. 

“I’m so disappointed y’all aren’t going on a honeymoon,” your sister endlessly complains, and she’s completely backed by the two mothers. “Yes!” Your mother joins in. Just like the rest of the family members, she seems to have bought your wedding as 100% real as well, although she should’ve been the first to connect the dots that you’re only doing this sham wedding for the sake of your father’s wishes. “I have itineraries planned for Bali, for Scandinavia, for the Maldives, or even for Japan, if you don’t want to go too far!” She giggles, and the other ladies do too. You don’t understand what’s so funny. Especially when you know how little conversation you’ve shared with your husband over the last month, in spite of not being strangers. 

In fact that makes it worse, you think. Wonwoo’s wearing a dark blue blazer over a white shirt which puts his pecs right in your face. You know what it’d be like to touch them, and bite all over them. The way he has his left hand pressed against the small of your back means he knows what it’d be like to just drop his hand an inch lower and feel your ass against his palm. Andit is worse because even though you know each other intimately, there’s so little emotional connection you feel with him now. Whatever vulnerability had developed around him when he’d first agreed to the wedding had become hardened again under his cold attitude, and you’re back to just who you were when you’d grinded up against him at your sister’s engagement party. You curse yourself for thinking that you could ever feel a nice way about Jeon Wonwoo, because honestly, look at the man. He’s probably never regretted any decision taken after midnight as much as he’s regretted the decision to marry you. 

When you sit down at the dinner table, you notice him not eating any of the seafood. You wonder if he’s just not hungry or rudely ignoring the special grilled fish that is your Appa’s speciality. It’s probably the latter- some testosterone shit. And yet, he’s speaking charmingly smoothly with your Appa, even though Wonwoo’s not much of a talker and you know that. 

When he sits in the corner of the room, smiling and talking to your mother, you wonder what lies he’s spewing. You’ve noticed how easily lies come to him at the wedding itself, when he’d spinned tale upon tale about your ‘love story’. I fell for her, honestly, for the first time, when she’d walked into my class in ninth grade. You had scoffed, remembering the disgusted expression he had worn in reality, when he’d seen you being introduced into the class. Of course, we’ve known each other for a long time now. Naturally, there have been ups and downs. Gosh, this reminds me of the time we’d gone on that date to the amusement park after our last day at school, huh? We’d fought so bitterly after that, you’d think we were enemies. Haha. You’d nearly laughed at that- your school had taken you all out to the amusement park on the last day of classes, and somehow Wonwoo and you’d been seated together on all the damn rides. Fuck him for laughing at you for becoming scared on the roller coaster rides and then pretending to take care of you when you had passed out in his arms at the very peak of the ride. You bet the teachers had cooed at him for being so chivalrous, when in reality it was a smack to your face. 

When he leaves early, and leans in to press a kiss to your lips, you almost cringe away. It feels like you’re kissing a stranger even though his lips and the stubble on his jaw feel so familiar. This is the first time he’s shown you affection in front of others. It’s all a show, you know. You gotta do what’s needed to keep the show running.  “I’ll see you at home, sweetheart,” he says before pulling away and tucking your hair behind your ears. You search in his eyes for honesty, and all you find is a dark abyss. 

_

But it seems like your family buys the facade again. Banking on the fact that they seem pleased with your husband, and on your good choice of marriage, you finally broach the real issue with your father. You’re both sitting at the patio, sipping whisky after everyone’s left and the two of you have some peace after a long day of chattering and feasting.

“Appa, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Yes, Y/N-ah?”

You pause before answering. Finally, you decide to take the blunt route, knowing that there’s no easy way about this. 

“Come with me to the US for your treatment.”

He sighs. It’s a sigh that sounds almost like a cough, and it makes you wonder how much phlegm is stored in his damaged lungs now. You wonder how you didn’t notice it before.

“Who told you?”

“Eomma.”

“Of course she did.” He sighs again, and looks at you. “Are you asking me or commanding me?” 

“Appa, I’m not your boss. I can’t command you.”

“But you’re my daughter. I know how children feel when they think their parents aren’t listening to them.”

You smile. “I’ve always been stubborn, you know. I’ve got it in my genes.”

“Genes I’m proud of. How much has your mother told you? Did she mention I’m in stage 4 and it’s practically incurable?”

“Yes, and no. There are still chances to cure it, Appa, if only you’ll listen to me.”

“Sweetie-”

“Why aren’t you giving this another chance? I didn’t know you to be a person who easily gives up!” You can feel yourself getting angry, tears pooling in your eyes. It’s stupid how he’s arguing against it, illogical, meaningless. Your heart breaks every time you look at his eyes- they’re old, wrinkled, and yet the fire hasn’t gone out. Does he really want to end it all this fast?

“You know, I get where you’re coming from. But… I don't want to prolong suffering, Y/N-ah. It’s time, I can feel it. There’s no point being a vegetable pushed about in a wheelchair and drinking soup for the rest of my life. There’s no point living if I have to just gobble medicines all day and not drink any more port wine. There’s no point living a life which isn’t even a life, it’s just a laboratory experiment.”

You do burst out crying at this. You want to throttle his neck, and shake him, and ask how could he say such things. 

“Aaah, Y/N-ah! Don’t cry-”

“You’re making me cry, Appa! You didn’t even tell me! Were you just planning to sit on it till it’s too late?”

“It is never too late, Y/N-ah. Appa is always here with you, even if I can’t be here physically.”

The tears don’t stop, he pulls you closer, until you’re wailing on his shoulder, and he hugs you with one arm. 

“It’s not fair,” you mumble in between tears, hiccups interspersed in your words. Then he only rubs your back and you gently quieten down. “I don’t care, Appa. Come to the US with me. I’ve spoken to doctors, they’ve said there are chances to improve.” He smiles wistfully, looking at your face, which is childishly covered in snot and wet tears.

“Appa, you have to promise me you’ll try. For me, please. I’m not ready for this.”

“It will be a waste of time and effort. I would rather you pay attention to your career. And also your marriage.” “There’s not much to pay attention to. Wonwoo and I are busy almost all the time,” you try to dismiss him. “But you are young, and in love. I should believe there’s nothing other than your love life you should pay more attention to.” You sigh. It’s sad, just how well you and Wonwoo have deceived them all, even your most observant father. You wonder how it is possible, given how distant the two of you are- emotionally, always, and physically, recently. “There is something called urgency, Appa. There’s an order to how things need to be done.” 

There’s a few long minutes of silence. Your father finishes the drink in his glass and looks at the stars in the sky. You, for one moment, are sure he’ll put up another fight. “You’ve never asked me anything with so much insistence, Y/N-ah.” “You’ve not hidden anything from me before, either.” There’s another pause. The waiting is tiring, and you’re going to cry again. 

“Alright. I’ll do it, Y/N. But on one condition.” You hang on to his words, waiting for him to continue. “One chance. I’m not going back again if there is a relapse. I will not push my fate to a sour ending. You go back to your life, where I want to see you happy. And I will let nature take its due course.” You dare to smile, too afraid he’s going to take back his words. But then he smiles back, and beckons you to lie down on his lap, as he begins talking about something new he;s recently read, and you’re grateful for the distraction. 

That night when you go home, you find Wonwoo playing in his gaming room. It’s a small room, probably meant to be a spare bedroom, or a kid’s bedroom, but he has an elaborate gaming setup there, and he locks himself up in it every weekend. Sometimes you wonder if he’s dead, but then you hear his cocky, hushed whispers of victory when you lean on the door. He’s always been good at games. 

Today the door is slightly open, and you think for a deluded moment, that he perhaps left it open so that he could hear you enter the house. So you lightly knock and he turns around in his gaming chair. You realise he’s wearing a tank top, his hair hidden under a hideous beanie, and for a second, he doesn’t look like the brooding adult you’re married to. 

“I spoke to Appa tonight.”

He looks up at you and takes off his headphones. He nods once, understanding immediately.

“I’m leaving for New York tomorrow, and I don’t want to delay the appointment.” 

He stares at you for a second, then replies, “When is your flight?” 

“Afternoon.”

“And how long are you going to be away?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps a month, perhaps longer. I don’t want to leave until it’s all done. I want to see it to the end.”

He nods again, standing up from his chair. The screen flashes something about the game being paused, and his character awkwardly bounces about in the game field. The character has black hair and wears glasses like Wonwoo. 

“Pack enough, then. I’ll be here when you come back.”

You nod, and he smiles. This is why you got married in the first place, afterall. You bet he’s glad to get the wheels moving as quickly as possible so that this farce can come down before he’s so tired of it that your mere sight repels you.

_

The next three months pass by like a whirlwind, a miracle from heaven. Because not only are the doctors extremely positive about your father’s condition, but also hopeful for complete treatment. A part of you is too wary of everything going too great, too good to be true, and you’re crying every night when you lie sleepless in your hotel bed. There’s not a single second you’re free from anxiety, and there’s literally nothing else in your mind except praying that every minute of the treatment goes well. You’ve never been so nervous, except when you’d been in college and getting your papers approved by your professors and they’d laughed straight up in your face at your ambitiousness. You get periodic calls from your colleagues, the managers and Jisung, most often. But if there’s a perk of being a CEO, it’s that your employees know when to respect your personal space, unless there’s an absolute emergency. Relatives call you, your sister calls you ever so often. You hope she doesn’t go into labour with your father still stuck on the hospital bed, but it’s only a small part of her worries, you’re sure. So you assure her about everything being alright and encourage to focus on her pregnancy being perfectly smooth, although Kyungmin Oppa tells you that her mood swings are more distinct now with more things to worry about. The baby kicks for the first time, and you wish you could be there. You don’t want to miss a lot of firsts, but it’s a small tradeoff you don’t mind making. 

There’s only one person who doesn’t call you, Wonwoo. He probably knows that you don’t want to be disturbed, but sometimes you have thoughts. Thoughts about how different your life was just a few months ago. Thoughts about how your marriage is due to be annulled as soon as this business ends. Thoughts about whether you should have let Wonwoo ever into your life. Thoughts about how he feels about this entire thing. You know how he’d said he had just wanted to help you, but was it a moment of pity or a calculated decision? Was he actually humane enough to want to do this? You’re unsure, just like you’re unsure about how much you even know him. Sure, you’ve known him for your entire damn life, but not really. 

Firstly, there’s the matter of the wedding. The fact that Wonwoo didn’t actually need to be roped in to convince your dad is a surprising issue. You hadn’t expected Appa to be so pliant to your words and your tears, when he had supposedly protested so much in front of Unnie and Eomma. Well, there perhaps was something called a favourite child. Secondly, there’s the concern of what happens now. It’s already been four months since your wedding, and it’s almost mid-December now. You’re 100% sure that Wonwoo will not be interested to drag on this farce for longer than necessary, so you mentally take notes to draft up divorce letters and take them to him as soon as you return to Seoul. Your PR team’s done a fairly good job in hiding the fact that you and Wonwoo have barely spent any time together since the wedding. So it’s not going to take much to silence the media if they raise eyebrows at such a quick divorce. Family will be easy to convince, as well. We just don’t have enough time for a full-on relationship now. We’re focused on our careers, that’s where our priorities lie. Honestly, this was why we were so hesitant about marriage in the first place. See, we told you, we weren't made for this relationship business. If only you hadn’t practically stalked us into it, we wouldn’t have to disappoint you all like this. 

And what happens after that? 

Do you remain exes who smile at each other at social gatherings? Do you remain fuckbuddies, forgetting about your trash past altogether? Do you become strangers who don’t even bother to remember birthdays? 

You’re feeling dizzy, so you pass out on the couch in your hotel room. 

_

It’s New Years’ Eve when you return to Seoul, and nobody can stop the smile on your face from breaking out every three seconds. Your father’s body may still be weak from chemotherapy, and he may have to visit the hospital every other week to get follow-ups on his treatment, but he’s alive and the spark in his eyes haven’t been snuffed out. There’s hope, infinite hope, and you feel whole again. There’s incredible joy blooming in your heart, even if all the trees are barren and all the world is grey. The doctors say that it is a godsent gift, and there can be a relapse, but the chances are low enough to be confident that there’s going to be at least five more years of happy life for your father. For someone who was praying for five more minutes, it’s a harvest too bountiful, and you feel like a person born again. 

The happiness lasts the entire journey back home, back into the wide waiting arms of your mother who had never gone to the US because she was too scared of being there. You can see how the stress has taken a toll on her, as her figure seems frailer than before, and there’s no longer than glow radiating off her face. And yet, this gift is more than she, or you could ever have asked for, so you take what you can get. Your father’s organs haven’t failed yet, and he can eat better things than soup, so your mother’s cooked specially for him, although she hasn’t entered the kitchen in years. It’s softly cooked galbi and prawn pajeon, and he devours the meal after months of hospital food. You stay the night at your parent’s home, as your sister comes over along with her husband. It’s a great family reunion, and you feel like you could die in this happiness.

Except reality strikes when you wake up the next morning and realise that you should go to your actual home now. You wonder if he’s going to be at home or not, given that it’s the New Year and he may have plans with others. 

But there he is, as you let yourself in through the main door, and he locks eyes with you sitting on the couch, wearing shorts and no shirt, his hair quite wet. Apart from the fact that this is the first time you’ve seen him wear shorts, nothing’s changed. He’s still exactly the same. It’s cold outside, and the journey here has frozen your limbs, but the house is warm as fuck, just how Wonwoo’s always liked it. 

You can’t stop yourself. You don’t stop yourself when you run halfway across the living room and hug him without waiting for him to say anything. 

To his credit, he doesn’t say anything. He simply hugs you back. His body is so warm in spite of being shirtless, and you can smell the fresh soap clinging to his body. He rubs one hand on your spine and for a second you feel tears threatening to flow down your face. Did you miss him?

“How’s your father?” 

“Much better. There is hope.”

You can feel his hands moving more insistently on your back, stretching through all your muscles. It feels comforting in a way you’ve never received from Wonwoo. He doesn’t ask anything else, and you don’t mind. 

“Welcome home, Y/N.”

_

You’re bent over on the floor, unpacking your suitcase in your own room when he casually saunters into his walk-in and you don’t pay heed. It’s only when he walks out wearing a black leather jacket, a turtleneck, a light gold chain dangling on his neck, and fancy sunglasses perched on his nose that you turn around to look at him. You’re shocked at seeing him like this- you realise you haven’t seen him in casuals in so long. You haven’t seen him in so long. 

“You’re going out?”

“Yeah, it is the New Year. I have a party with my friends.”

You’re too busy ogling him, so he asks, “Don’t you have plans?” 

“Yeah, I’m going to unpack my stuff.”

“You could do that tomorrow. Going out with friends on New Years’ will not happen tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes. You assume I have friends. It shouldn’t be news to him, you’ve told him this before. And yet, you feel embarrassed again. You didn’t know Wonwoo had friends, but it’s wrong of you to think every workaholic has no life like you. 

“No. It’s been a tiring few months… I’d rather just sleep in.”

Wonwoo, surprisingly, sits down on your bed, facing you, and removes his sunglasses. You can see his pretty eyes from up close, and you realise that he’s never really sat on this bed since you’ve come to his house. “Do you want to come with me? They’ve been asking about you for quite some time now.” You look at him silently, “Nah, I don’t… don’t want to barge in.” “You won’t be.” “You’ll get late if you wait for me now.” “It’s not a big deal, most of them will be late anyway.” “Are you going to a nightclub?” “No, we’re going to a barbecue party.” 

Small, private, cosy. You’ll definitely be barging in.

“No Wonwoo, I don’t want to go somewhere where I’m not welcome. And anyway, I’m cool with whatever you’ve told your friends about us.” “I haven’t said anything in particular.” “Well, then you’re good at avoiding things.” “I am. You must’ve been away too long if you’ve forgotten about this.” 

You want to run away. He’s surely talking about avoiding being your husband- and he’s proud about it as well. 

“Then you might avoid it further. There’s no need for me to make a public appearance.”

Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long. His jaw hardens, and you can see his tongue in his cheek. Then he gently pulls your hand into his own, and carefully touches your fingers, purposely avoiding the bit around your wedding ring. The way your fingers seem much smaller compared to his makes you feel a certain way. You pull your hand back, but he doesn’t let go. He ends up pulling you up to stand, so that he’s still sitting on the edge of the bed and you’re standing right in front of him. His fingers are still laced around your own, and you feel sparks at the touch after months. 

“I’m going to show my wife off to my friends. And your excuses are pathetic, darling. You know you want me to show you off as well.” His fingers tighten their grip against your wrist, and you feel the vein in your wrist throbbing around his touch. “So get dressed nicely. I know you clean up well.”

It takes you a solid ten minutes to find something good to wear. Sure, you’re not big on fashion, but you like to look fit for the occasion. Especially if Wonwoo’s dressed up all fancily like that. But when you finally step out of the closet, you’re wearing a beige corset top with a black skirt, and a long black coat with tiny gold details. You find Wonwoo still sitting on your bed, scrolling through his phone. “How do I look?” you ask at the same time as he raises his head to look at you. After checking you out twice from top to toe, he nods slowly, but before you can exhale in relief, he says, “Will you feel cold in that skirt?” “No. And before you ask, I’m not wearing stockings. The coat will be enough.” “Don’t complain if you get cold later. Come down in five.” 

_

When you’re finally in the car, you ask him if you should buy something for the host, since it is New Years’ afterall. “If we bought something for him, the others will be mad at us for not buying something for them too.” You laugh it off, wondering how that could be possible, and proceed to stop at a nearby store to buy one of the trendy perfumes that’s popular amongst men these days. 

You find, not even half an hour later, that it is possible. 

“Wonwoongi! You only brought presents for Mingoo? None for hyung? How will hyung survive without your generosity?” A lanky, beautiful man immediately latches himself onto Wonwoo’s arm as soon as you both enter Mingyu’s house. It’s a pretty bungalow situated a little far from the city, and decorated extravagantly with lights. It’s only after Wonwoo makes it through the first few people crowding near the entryway that everybody notices you. 

There’s a collective gasp going around when everyone turns around and looks at you, smiles galore. And then they all start speaking together, and you get overwhelmed. Wonwoo shushes them all in an uncharacteristically loud voice, and announces, “Since y’all wanted to meet her, this is Y/L/N Y/N, my wife,” and you bow deeply to everyone as everyone greets you back. When you stand upright again, you stumble a bit, not having noticed the thick carpet, and Wonwoo’s quick to grab your hand. He casually interlocks his fingers with yours, and you both make your way into the apartment. 

The first man you meet is Mingyu, the host. You’re shocked to see him, not expecting to see him as the host. So he’s the host. He’s become taller than Wonwoo now, his face still identical to what you remember from high school. It sparks an annoyance in you, as scenes from each sports day of your high school years flashes by. There wasn’t a single time when you hadn’t defeated Mingyu in tennis, badminton and squash. You really loved playing racket sports, and it seemed that so did Mingyu. But not just that- Mingyu’s arrogance was even more childish than that of Wonwoo because he was insanely arrogant about his looks and the number of girls (and boys) thirsting over him every day. Although you hardly met him outside school because he didn’t belong to a chaebol family, you’d actively glare at each other every time you met in school. You wonder what version of these same memories flashed in his mind as you stand in front of him now. 

“It’s been a long time, Y/N-ah. Didn’t imagine that you and Wonwoo would end up married.” It’s a genuine smile, and for a moment, you wonder if you’d had the wrong impression about him all along. “We didn’t imagine it either, trust me.” Wonwoo smiles, and it breaks you out of your reverie. You hand Mingyu the gift, and say, “Thank you for extending your invitation to me.” “There’s no need to be so formal, Y/N-ah. But what’s the need for the gift?” “Since I’m visiting you for the first time… as Mrs. Jeon, I felt I shouldn’t come empty-handed.” Mingyu giggles and nudges Wonwoo’s arm, “Mrs Jeon, hmm? Feels like a Hollywood movie. Thanks Y/N, I’ll use it well!”

Then Wonwoo introduces you to the rest of his friend group one by one. You meet Seungcheol, who you remember all too well. “How the tables have turned, huh?” He chuckles, before handing you a glass of wine. There’s a familiarity in his mysterious smile, that twinkling look in his eyes, that elite tilt of his chin, as if he owned the world, which used to annoy the hell out of you, because to you, he seemed to be the stereotype of the worthless chaebol heirs who’d do nothing in their lives except eat out of their parents’ money. And yet, he’s made it big on his own, if news reports are correct, and perhaps you can find some respect for him now. “I hope we get along better this time, Seungcheol Oppa.” He’s the only man from Wonwoo’s high school group who you would call Oppa, and that was only to tease him because he’d been voted as the Sexiest Oppa of the Year at the end of the high school year. Seungcheol seems to remember that too, because he laughs, and you realise it’s a fond memory, no matter how much annoyance it had sparked in you back then. 

Then there’s Jeonghan, who’d been that beautiful man who’d spoken to Wonwoo earlier with that aegyo nickname of Wonwoongie. who disarms you instantly with his jokes. Joshua, who’s introduced as the gentleman, but you can see the mischief in his doe-like eyes, much too good-looking for his own good. There’s Soonyoung and Seokmin, who are already playing beer pong, laughing and spilling a lot of the beer on the table (and the carpet, but they implore you to not tell Mingyu that). Seungkwan referees them, while he’s wrapped around his boyfriend, who’s extremely charming and interesting. Vernon and you speak for a good two minutes before Seungkwan interrupts you both and takes you to meet Jun. Jun is sitting on the other side of the room, with his girlfriend, Lihua. She’s also Chinese but speaks fluent Korean, as she’s a teacher in Seoul, as she explains.You find out that Jun is an actor in both Korean and Chinese tv shows, and his visuals explain a lot of it, for sure. Then there’s Minghao, who’s busy discussing Met Gala looks over the years with two women, Soyeon (Jihoon’s fiance) and Aeri (Chan’s girlfriend). Chan and Jihoon themselves are missing, but soon you find them in the kitchen, helping Mingyu and his fiance, Hayi, to make cocktails. 

And when the introductions finally end, Wonwoo and you flop down on a couch in one corner, both tired from all that smiling and small talk. 

“Are you sighing so loudly because they’re not nice?” He teases you, as he place an arm around the head of the sofa, successfully cradling you without even touching your body. “Wonwoo. I didn’t know you were still close to Seungcheol and Mingyu.” “Hmm… should I have warned you before bringing you here?” You turn your face away from him, “A warning would have been nice. I wasn’t really ready to see Mingyu’s annoying smile again after all those years of his delinquency.” Wonwoo laughs, and you continue, “But I’m curious. What did you tell them about me that they’re welcoming me with open arms? Did you tell them that I’ve completely changed or something?” “No. They had their reservations too, but it’s not like they could do anything. I told them only a day before we got married.” You open your mouth to refute, but quickly become silent. Not for the first time, you wonder, how had Wonwoo adapted into the marriage so quickly in spite of having nothing to gain and everything to lose. It reminds you of the divorce papers you had asked Jisung to prepare, so you don’t say anything.

Jeonghan comes and sits on your other side too. “Oh, we have another person joining our lazy line, I see.” He giggles as you look confused. “Wonwoo, Hao and I are the lazy line. We run out of battery first. We can’t keep up with the other over-energetic boy.” “But the absolute first is Wonwoo, of course. There’s no end to group photos where he’s yawning in all the shots.” Minghao strolls in, grabs Wonwoo by the arm, calling him to the other room where they’re all playing billiards, and then it’s just you and Jeonghan on the sofa. 

“So, Y/N, I hear that you and Wonwoo have been friends since school?” You laugh, because he can’t have heard that. You know Jeonghan knows you both have never really been friends. He laughs too, and you realise how easily he’s prodded right into the truth. “It’s complicated,” you say safely, as you get a feeling you can’t hide from this man. “And yet I think you’re perfectly fit to be Mrs Jeon, from what I hear.” You laugh again, because genuinely it is a funny statement. You think he’s making a joke- probably about how you both hated each other’s guts in school, or had an equal temper. But no, he’s all serious and he repeats his statement with more sincerity. You twist your lips in confusion, and ask him, “How can you say that?” “Because I know Wonwoo very well. That’s it.” He then laughs a bit and continues, “They call me the Eomma of the group for a reason, you know. They’re all my kids. Even Cheol and Shua.”

And then Wonwoo calls you both to the barbecue which had begun on the outdoor patio. 

_

The party may have begun awkwardly for you but it soon becomes quite exciting. The temperature continues to fall as it becomes darker in the night sky, but everyone’s gathered around the barbecue grill outside so you don’t want to move. The girls are mostly sitting together, sitting cocktails that Mingyu prepares for you, winking every way until he reaches his fiance who exaggeratedly winks back. You sit sandwiched between Aeri and Wonwoo, and while Wonwoo is busy discussing games with Seungcheol, Aeri doesn’t let you feel isolated. You’re included into the group surprisingly quickly, and soon you’re playing drinking games with them. Games you’ve never played before, so you’re obviously totally incapable at defeating them. They seem to play these every other weekend, while you’ve never even heard of these game rules. The reality sends pangs to your heart because it hits harder than ever that you’ve never had a friend group with who you could drink with. Not even a casual drink. Not even a girls’ night out. Not even a pole dance at a strip club. 

“Okay! Let’s play the hongsam game,” Seungkwan shouts out and immediately everyone cheers in agreement. You must be looking confused as hell, because Jihoon quietly leans in to explain the rules simply. Seungkwan and Jihoon show you a small demo, and you nod. You may not have understood fully but you don’t want to hold up others in the game. And so the game goes on for nineteen rounds, and you lose ten of them. You somehow miss the timing every time, or maybe you just don’t know their names well enough. Even Joshua, who messed up the first three times, seems to have caught on, but you’re just stuck. Although they make you feel better about it, laughing with you instead of at you, and reassuring you that it’s okay to make mistakes, you feel embarrassed. It’s not a tough game, just requires hand-eye-brain coordination that you’re sure you’re not lacking in, but perhaps some part of you wants to do better because it’s Wonwoo’s friends you’re playing with, and performing poorly here would mean… well, you don’t know what it would mean, but it doesn’t sit right with you. So you try to be more competitive, and although you keep losing, as the shots go in, it feels less stressful and more fun. You become more familiar with the games, and the S.coups game you’re actually good at, although you have no idea why it’s called the S.coups game and Seungcheol personally makes it a point to threaten anyone who’s about to tell you why it’s called the S.coups game. 

And so, as the night goes by, you become more comfortable. Even if it is still a little awkward, it’s not altogether bad. Mingyu and Seungcheol are being nice to you, although a bit wary. The others have positively welcomed you with open arms. And Wonwoo, well, he’s being a little odd. He’s having a hell lot of fun, being much louder than you’ve ever seen him. He seems more reserved than his friends, but then, his friends are too hyper. And while he doesn’t make direct efforts to talk to you, he’s becoming more touchy by the minute. The first few shots in, he was just putting an arm around your shoulders. Next few shots in, his hands are properly rubbing all over your bare arms as he makes you open the coat when you say your body’s getting warm with all the soju. When you feel the buzz of alcohol getting more serious by the second, his right hand, the same one which had held your hand earlier that day, places itself on your thigh and refuses to move. It’s splayed all over your thigh, nearly covering from end to end, and there’s not much skin showing anyway, but with his hand, it feels like you should’ve worn a shorter skirt. 

Wonwoo’s favourite game is the mafia one. The game app somehow generates him to be mafia three out of four times, and he has way too much fun killing the innocent citizens who seem to be completely deceived by him. Wonwoo’s too good at lying, you realise, when you’re taken aback each time on finding out he’s the mafia although you’re sitting right next to him. The fifth round, you both are mafias, and after the penultimate round of guessing, when you two are the only mafias left alive and you lock eyes to decide who to kill, you giggle at the way he’s staring you down. 

“I say, Soyeon. She’s the closest to guessing me out.” You say seriously, but his eyes aren’t even on your eyes. They’re fixed lower, at your lips, but you panic and shift away from him. Now his eyes look up at yours, confused, but you’re guessing he’s just drunk. He would never behave like this if he were sober. 

“I say let’s get out of here. While their eyes are still closed.” He smirks, whispering hotly in front of your face, and you feel red all over. 

“Wonwoo! They’re your friends.” “So what? They love you already. They wouldn’t be mad at you for leaving, if that’s what you’re thinking.” “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re having so much fun, why would you want to leave?” “Because I know I could have more fun with you with my face under that skirt of yours.” You’re blushing again. “You don’t want to know the number of times I’ve left fun gatherings like this to fuck you in my car, sweetheart. This time, at least, they’ll understand better.” You blush even harder, with the way he’s speaking. It’s making your heart beat too loudly. You know it’s because you both are drunk, but you’ve never been able to resist it when he talks dirty to you. And now his hand starts squeezing your thigh, so you’re left wondering what it would feel like if his face was under your sk-

“Oh for fucks sake! I know it’s Wonwoo and Y/N with all this whispering, I’m sitting next to y’all, guys!” Aeri whines from next to you, and the moment is broken. Everyone opens their eyes and Wonwoo’s hand stop squeezing, although it’s still on your thigh. “If you’re going to undress each other, just go home!” Chan says, and you laugh. “I’m not leaving the party even if Wonwoo does, just so you know. I’m having way too much fun.” Aeri and Hayi hug you from one end, pulling you away from Wonwoo. “Yes,” says Hayi, “we’re not letting you go either. Boring mafia men can leave if they like.” So they pull you away from Wonwoo and you end up sitting somewhere far away from him, between Joshua and Minghao, and it’s nice to be around people who aren’t game aces either and you can have a lot more fun because they’re not as serious as Wonwoo.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzes in your pocket, so you take it out. There’s a text from Wonwoo. 

I wasn’t kidding, Y/N. I really want to get out of here with you.

_

Twenty minutes later, you’ve bid the last round of goodbyes, hugging Jeonghan and exchanging numbers with most of them, while they whine about why Wonwoo gatekept you for so long. Even Seungcheol and Mingyu joke around you, showing that they’ve become more comfortable around you. Perhaps growing up has taken away some of their jerk attitude from them. 

Wonwoo’s already leaning against his car when you walk out of the house. You know he’s drunk with the way his eyes check you out without any filter, and you’re also drunk and out of your inhibitions. You try not to get into your head as he opens the door for you, and you get inside the warm car. Wonwoo joins you in the backseat, and the chauffeur drives you out slowly. 

But somehow, being in the car now, away from the dopamine of the party, and the general excitement from having a surprisingly fun evening with strangers, the overthinking does kick in. Wonwoo doesn’t say a word, but his hand has returned on your thigh, and you let it be there. But you can’t help but think, is he finding you attractive only because he’s under the influence? 

So you ask him that, when you both get out of the car and he opens the door to the apartment. Drunk, dishevelled Wonwoo looks glorious in the night light, his dark hair falling over his eyes, which are hooded in desire as plain as day. “Are you fucking serious, woman?” That’s all he says, before he pushes you against the back of the same entry door, and puts his hand under your skirt. He finds you panties as an obstruction so he pushes them aside before kissing you and entering one finger inside your cunt simultaneously. You immediately melt under his touch, not just because it’s been months since Wonwoo’s touched you, but also because you’re feeling so relieved he’s still attracted to you. At least the farce hasn’t repelled him away this far. 

So you don’t speak any words. You both stay silent except the sounds he forces out of you. You come embarrassingly fast with just two fingers up your vagina, and his mouth creating hickeys all over your neck. “Fuck, Wonwoo, I-” “Shit you’re still coming- your whore pussy’s thanking Sir for taking care of her after so long?” You moan his name harder, your entire body writhing under his touch as he drags out your climax under his touch. “Yes, Sir.” “And what to good girls say in gratitude?” You can barely form the words but you say it, “Thank- thank you, Sir!”

“Where do you wanna take it, hmm? To my bedroom which you’ve taken over? Or my bedroom where you’ve exiled me to?” He picks you up and shrugs off your coat, and you wrap your legs around him, stretching the skirt. “It doesn’t matter.”

So he takes you to the bedroom where he’s sleeping these days. He flunks you on the bed, and you tumble to fall on your face. The sheets smell like him, and you breathe in his scent. You don’t want to sleep anywhere else after this- only next to him, if this is what his bed smells like. 

He leans in from behind you, and unhooks your top and skirt, leaving you in your underwear. Your panties are ruined, so he makes quick work of removing them. But he keeps the bra on, and gently slides in under you until your pussy is on his face as he prepares to eat you out from behind. His hands are splayed over your ass, and as soon as his tongue makes contact with your already abused vagina, you scream out his name. But he doesn’t stop- he continues, his tongue harshly fucking your cunt. When he’s done making you orgasm again like that, and you’re done screaming his name into his pillow, he finally moves away from you. You fall limp on the bed, as you hear him take off his clothes. Eventually he cages you from behind, and slowly fills you up from behind, one hand on your neck and the other rubbing your nipple over your bra. 

So he fucks you like that, his cold chain makes sparks every time it brushes against your spine. “Sir, please! Faster, please-” Wonwoo doesn’t reply to any of your begging, but he responds physically to everything you say, by doing the exact opposite and dragging out your misery. His hands don’t leave your nipples as he leisurely fucks you. “Fuck, Y/N, not even four months, and you’re tight like a virgin again.” Your hands slip and weakly try to clutch at the bedsheets, but you feel useless, like a toy, and he feels every inch of skin which he’s missed out on all this time. You don’t know what he’s looking like now, but his hand presses your head down on the pillow softly, and his grunts and moans are soft enough to be enveloped by your own louder moans and pants.

“Please, I’m begging you, please- pl- faster- Sir!” And the second he lifts his body away from yours, thrusting into you faster, you spasm and orgasm right there, and it triggers his orgasm too. The warmth of his cum flowing inside you stays there as he gently falls down on your body, panting. When he begins to pull out, you whine, unable to say anything but he gets the message. He lies down next to you softly, without pulling out for a few minutes. When your body finally comes down from the high, you go limp around his body, and Wonwoo gently pulls out. 

“I’ll clean you up.” “I’m sleepy…” “Yeah, then sleep.” And then you pass out.

_

When you wake up the next morning, Wonwoo is, unsurprisingly, not next to you, although his side of the bed is not cold. It feels like an upgrade, and you take what you can get. For the first time since you’ve gotten married, you’ve slept together and the thought of it makes you pleased for some reason. 

“Morning,” he walks in, before you can properly wake up. He’s wearing a peach-coloured hoodie with sweatpants, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Is that for me?” “No, I didn’t know if you were up.” “Okay, I’ll go and get my own.”

So you do. You brush your teeth and make your coffee and return to the bedroom, and Wonwoo’s still sitting there, his back leaning against the headboard. For a second, you feel like you’re stepping into someone else’s married life, but then you realise it’s yours. It makes you giddy. You don’t understand why- it’s not like you’ve ever craved for Wonwoo, or anyone, in this way. But somehow, you’ve warmed up well to the idea of having him as your … partner. There’s nobody who could be an equal match to you, to be honest. Either they’d be seriously less intelligent and you would be able to hold no conversation with them, or they’d be arrogant as fuck if they were smarter than you, and they’d make it a point to make you feel lesser, always. So Wonwoo is the perfect match for you. 

Although, Wonwoo could surely find someone better. Jeonghan’s words float in your brain once again, and you fight the urge to contradict him. Mrs Jeon could definitely be someone else- someone who’s less distant from Wonwoo, someone he could love truly deeper than just skin-level attraction, someone who would want to be with him for real feelings and not just a facade.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about, Wonwoo.” 

“Yeah, me too.” You both sit against the headboard, bodies far apart, as if repelled again by magnetic force, no matter how close you were last night. 

“Okay, you go first then.”

So he says, “Last night was… a mistake. I know it sounds cliche, but it’s true. I don’t… want to do this with you.”

Oh fuck. You did not see that coming. Sure, the relationship could have been a mistake. Getting married without him getting anything out of it could have been a mistake. Continuing this marriage after your dad’s treatment was successful could have been a mistake. But last night? Last night had felt so right to you. There was no one who knew your body like Wonwoo did, and you knew it went the other way round too. Then how could he say that?

He continues, “I don’t want to be fuckbuddies with you like this, Y/N. We got married for a goal, and now that goal’s been fulfilled and…”

“And you want a divorce. I get it.” 

He looks at you with confusion, his eyes wide and his eyebrows furrowed. “No, that’s not what I said.” 

“That’s what you meant. I’m an adult, Wonwoo, don’t teach me nuances.” You get off the bed and walk away. 

“Y/N, you’ve got to hear me out when I’m saying something.”

“Wonwoo, I already know what you’re trying to say.” 

“Fuck you, Y/N. This is why it’s not possible to have a proper conversation with you.”

“You’ll get what you want, Wonwoo. Don’t worry. Thanks for telling me, I needed to know.”

_

It feels good to get back to work after so long. The familiar sound of people typing away on their laptops and the busy movement of people everywhere, it brings peace to your heart. There are people hovering around you, hoping to speak to you, but Jisung somehow brings you to your office without you having to say anything more than good morning and happy new year to anyone. 

It’s only when you enter the office and you see the pending paperwork that you realise just how much you’ve missed. There’s a deal with Lee Corp. that’s sitting on your desk, and Jisung presents it to you with a proud smile. “We got it done, Ma’am. Every detail you wanted, to the t.” You don’t know how to respond, because it’s unbelievable. “But how?” This is your dream- signing a contract with Lee Corp., the leading organisation for facilitating stools for robotic surgery in Korea. Although your technology has always been more modern, they’ve retained their large market share because of simply how long they’ve sustained in the business- after all, when it comes to health, trust comes before modernity for customers. 

“Jeon Wonwoo-ssi set up the deal for us. The Deputy CEO and myself attended the meeting, I can share the minutes with-”

“Wait, stop. Wonwoo, you said?” 

“Yes Ma’am, I… did he not tell you? He told me he’d tell you.” Jisung looks genuinely confused, so you know it’s futile to investigate him further. 

“Well, as you can see, it’s news to me.”

“There is a meeting today, at noon, Ma’am, I need to brief you about the details before you-” 

“I’ll get the details directly from Wonwoo, thanks Jisung. Ask my chauffeur to get my car ready please. I’ll be back before the meeting.”

_

Wonwoo’s office building is bustling with the same energy as your own, and you face no trouble finding his office. So you walk right in. 

“What’s this I’m hearing?” He’s standing next to a shorter man showing him something on a tablet, but he immediately leaves when he sees you, bowing quickly. “I was busy, Y/N, you can’t just walk in like that as if you own the place.” He walks up to you, and gently closes the door, before leaning against it and asking you, in that fucking relaxed expression he always has, “What’s the matter?” 

“You fixed a deal with Lee Corp. for my company?” 

“What about it?” 

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?”

“I thought it was best not to disturb you when you were busy with your father.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Wonwoo, this is literally the most important event that can turn my career around forever, and you choose not to tell me-”

“So you’d rather I invade your privacy for this? I’d arranged it so that it would be closed only after your return anyway, so it’s not like-”

“It’s exactly like you were making deals behind my back! God knows what subscript you’ve mentioned in the clauses with the Lees- yeah, step one: get into a trusting contract with Y/N, step two: slowly overtake all her market power, step three: make the company so weak that Jeon Estates can easily take over.” 

You’ve taken a step closer with every word, and now you’re standing at a hair’s distance from Wonwoo, who’s just staring at you. “For god’s sake, Jeon Wonwoo, say something!” 

And then, he fucking laughs. It’s a bitter laugh, one with no mirth, and it makes goosebumps rise on your flesh. 

“You’re mad, Y/N. You’re paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch, and I can’t even be mad at you because I knew this is how you’ve been all along and yet, I can’t fucking stop myself from falling in love with you every damn day!” 

It’s your turn to go speechless. The documents in your hands fall limply to the floor, as your jaw opens and you stay rooted in one spot, stunned beyond belief. “You… what?”

“You were so fucking right every time you called me a dumbass, Y/N. Because I am one.” He laughs again, taking off his glasses with one hand, and rubbing his eyes with another. Then he stops laughing and when he wears his glasses again, his face looks twenty years older. 

“Wonwoo… I’m not understanding.”

“You will never understand. Because you don’t have a fucking heart. One would think I have a masochism kink- the way you kick me out every day and I come back to you like a dog. Have you ever thought that maybe I don’t want to take over your company? I’ve told you before- I have enough ways and means to bring you down already had I really wanted to. For fucks’ sake, it’d take a minute for me to destroy your reputation by spreading a rumour about how you wanted to bang me just because you thought it was a great way to get your dad to get into treatment.”

“You still could-”

“I’ve never taken advantage of you- never. I’ve respected you, with as much as I could. When you’ve been petty, when you’ve been oversmart, when you’ve been angry. And you think I’m really interested in destroying you? No, Y/N, if there’s anything I feel towards you and your professional career, it’s admiration. And respect.”

“Don’t lie to my face, Jeon.”

He laughs again, and kneels down so that he’s looking away from you, down at the floor, his body no longer held up in his usual manly stature. 

“I’m so tired of running around and playing these games with you, Y/N. I’ve admired you since you’d been promoted two classes at once in ninth grade.”

“That is a lie. You’d gone right after that class to bitch about me, very loudly, to your friends, about how I’d been promoted only because my dad’s business was flourishing.” 

“It was a front, because all of my friends, and mind you, I don’t mean Mingyu and Seungcheol, had become pissed at you for it. I had to… I don’t know… be popular? I couldn’t be any more of a loser than I already was. I’d lost a year as it is for breaking my leg and not being able to attend classes, and then… owning up that your intelligence and intellect amazed me and got me on my fucking knees would mean I’d no longer be the cool boy in class who everybody wanted to be with.” 

You kneel down next to him, imploring him to look into your eyes. But he steadfastly avoids eye contact- and you feel the floor slip away from your feet. Things you’d believed for years… hearing them become untrue… hearing them being simple misunderstandings… it was too frightening and too overwhelming to be believable. 

“But there’s not been a moment these last dozen years when I’ve not had my heart beat fast whenever I think about you… see you. I’d accepted your harsh words and your cold attitude as the norm because… I knew it was because I’d not behaved very nicely with you either, and I was to be blamed for it after all. But I took what I could get. A beggar cannot be a chooser, you know?” 

And he finally looks at you. 

And finally you can read Jeon Wonwoo. Every expression is as clear as day on his face. His eyes clouded with betrayal and pain, his lips twitching, seconds away from breaking down, his hands pale and trembling. You want to walk away, be a coward again, run away and escape to your bubble of yourself and only yourself. But you also want to take his hand, and feel the truth he’s speaking coursing through his veins buzz out into your own skin.

So you do that. 

For once in twenty six years, you do the brave thing. 

You sit down completely on the floor, and you lean forward to face him, and touch the tips of his fingers. You’re surrounded by the flurry of papers you’d brought to him, but in this moment, when the current of his touch matches the voltage running in your mind, you forget what they were. He looks away, and says, “Everything about you was so electrifying. You were the first woman who had never pedestalized me for my money and my position in society. The first woman who’d made me feel like just another human being. The first woman who I’d been unable to seduce with just a casual look. The first woman who threw a challenge at me with not just her attitude but also her smartness. And boy, you know how competitive I can be.”

“I was okay with being fuckbuddies too, you know. This way, I didn’t have to pine over you from a corner of the room at social gatherings and wonder how you smelt. I didn’t have to look at you from the other side of the cafeteria at school and imagine how it would feel to kiss the cream off the corner of your lips. And I fucking loved it. I loved being able to hold you close, make you mine. I- well… the first night you’d hooked up with me? If you’d not come back to me yourself, I would have begged you and confessed that very night. I would have cried at your feet to let me be your lover.”

There’s a single tear falling off his cheek and onto the point where your fingers touch. He doesn’t look at you. The sky outside darkens with the impending rain, making the room infinitely darker than it was earlier. 

“And then… when you’d asked me to stop… the world had broken down on me. I’d given up on making you want to like me- but,” and he laughs again, that broken, mirthless laugh, “a man can dream, can he not?”

“Wonwoo, I’m sorry.” you whisper. You know it’s pointless, but you still want to say it.

“For what Y/N? You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve just shown me my place.”

“For hurting you. I didn’t know…”

“No you… you didn’t even know you were hurting me. You were just being you.”

“And it’s sick that I hurt you so much when I was just being myself.” 

There’s a long minute of silence, as he looks up at you. Lightning cracks on the horizon outside, your body shivering with the sudden sound of thunder, and his hands withdraw from your own.

“Y/N, I don’t want to interfere in your life any longer. I’ve lived happily this last year, being so close to you, even when I knew it wasn’t in the way I wanted. But last night…”

“Wonwoo. I-”

“It was a mistake because I can’t do this so casually anymore, Y/N. I don’t want to wake up next to you just like that, Y/N. I don’t want to be married to you on paper, Y/N. I don’t want to pretend in front of my friends and not make you mine in public. Seungcheol and Mingyu accepted you fully… because they knew just how smitten I’ve been with you forever.” The edge of his lips tilt upward in a lopsided, winsome smile, as he continues, “That day in the amusement park? You’d been so mad at me for no fault of mine at all, but you’d been so cute when you’d lolled all over my shoulder and clutched onto my clothes for your dear life. That time you’d made your first speech as your father’s heir to the company, I swear I could’ve run to you and kissed you right there, you’d been so hot up on stage, in the spotlight, right where you belong.”

He starts standing up, looking away from you. He begins picking up the first paper next to him. 

“Oh, you bought the divorce papers.” 

You spring up to attention at once, and snatch it away from him. “Wonwoo, I-”

“No, thanks for bringing them. Thank you for putting me out of my misery of this awful mirage called hope.”

“No, please, I-”

“I see you’ve already signed-” 

“Wonwoo! Just please listen to me?”

He finally pauses in his tracks and looks at you. “You’ve said enough, Y/N-ah. You’ll get the divorce you so want. And if you like, I’ll ask Jihoon to put in a word to take away the deal as well. If you feel so threatened-”

“Wonwoo, hold up. Jihoon?”

“Yeah? You didn’t know? His cousin is the CEO of Lee Corp. currently.”

He picks up a pen to sign, and you literally lunge yourself on his body. It’s cinematic, a little unreal, but you do it out of desperation. It results in you being draped all over his body, as he falls back on his desk. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut up. Let me talk,” and you clamp a hand on his mouth before he can say another word. You take a deep breath, as his eyes widen for a second, but then he stabilises himself on his desk and waits for you to continue. 

“I’ll admit it, I’ve been an awful person. I’ve been mean, selfish, and paranoid- and yes, while I may have been justified to some extent, I … should’ve trusted you. It’s absurd though- had I not trusted you at all, how could I ever submit to you even in sex? How could I trust you with my body at my weakest, most out-of-control moments? Perhaps, deep down, I knew that, no matter how much we sparred with our words and our eyes, we… you would never harm me. And I think you know I wouldn’t have harmed you either, really. Because you’ve been nothing if not my twin spirit. You’ve been the only person competitive enough to challenge me. You’ve been the only man who hasn’t given me up even when I threw tantrums. And I want to stop talking in the past tense. Even in the future, I see… I see you as the only man who’d ever really understand me. If I tell you I need a week to just cut off from the world and focus on my work, you’d understand me. If I tell you, Wonwoo, I… well fuck it, I didn’t even need to tell you that I don’t like being lonely every New Years’ Eve, did I? You agreed to be my ally when our families turned against us. You agreed to be my husband when I hadn’t even asked you about it. You’ve… you’ve shown me that a world beyond me exists, you’ve shown me that I’m not the only person in this world I can care about, and you’ve shown me that you don’t need to be loud and obvious when you want to do things for others. And I haven’t even shown gratitude for it. So you’re right when you call me a paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch.” He shakes his head, but you only laugh a little. “No you’re right. You are. Wonwoo, I… these last few weeks. When I was away, with my dad? I didn’t think it was love but… I did think it was longing. I didn’t even know when I’d gotten used to not living alone at home. I didn’t even know when I’d developed the habit of waiting till 10 pm to see you enter the house after working out, sweaty and your muscles bulging. I’d told you I had become dependent on you as a way to relieve my stress? Well, turns out now I’ve become dependent on you for attention, for affection, for a way to cure my loneliness. I am a paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch because I’ve been so lonely for years. Apart from my parents and my sister, I… I’ve never had anyone else. And I thought it was  a strength of mine … until I grew up and realised just how lonely I had become. And then… I found you, I guess? Even when we just had sex, it was better than spending all those nights alone, drinking on my own. Even when you’d tie me up to your bedpost for hours on that stupid yellow vibrator of yours, it was more intimate than anything else, and simply because… you even read my face and understood when I was reaching my boundaries. And I’m having all these epiphanies right now, and I feel like a fool for priding myself on my smartness, because truly, what have I gained if I’ve lost you?”

And then, he wrings his hands free and leans over you, and kisses you. Kisses you with his mouth open, his eyes on yours as he gauges your expressions turn from surprise, to wonder, to thrill. When he’s finally kissed you out of breath, you pull away from him to breathe in and feel alive again, only to find that the roles have switched and he’s got you pinned against his desk now. 

“Baby, if only… if only I’d known, that your pretty mind was having so many epiphanies, I’d have not left you on the bed alone in the morning. Tell me you don’t really want the divorce, tell me what you said right now was not a joke?”

“It’s not… I don’t want a divorce, please Wonwoo. I had only got them prepared because I thought you’d want them- but…” 

“Well, I deserve to be treated like a shithead for not making you feel just how badly I want to hold on to this marriage. Because even if it is fake…”

“Wonwoo, shh… it’s not fake if I love you, right?” You say, experimentally, hoping you’re doing the right thing now by being brave, and when he doesn’t reply for a second, your brain goes on a spiral again, but then he must know it because he kisses you again. “Say that again, princess.” So you do. He asks you three more times, and each time, he punctuates his sentences with kisses on your face, and you blush harder each time you admit that yes, you have fallen in love with Jeon Wonwoo. The last person you’d expect to fall for… but it’s true, and it’s real, and it’s warm and novel with how it’s coursing through your veins. 

“I love you too, Y/N, if you’ll really have me.” So you kiss him back, your tongues lazily sliding against each other, the sensation making you numb. It feels good to kiss Wonwoo, but it feels even better to kiss your lover Wonwoo, you realise, and you go back for a million more kisses, before the grandfather’s clock in his room rings out and reminds you that it is noon. 

“Wonwoo… Fuck! I’d forgotten,” you whisper as he kisses you down your neck, lavishing every inch of your skin. “The meeting with the Lees!” “Oh.” He looks up at you. “I’ll call Jihoon and ask him to reschedule. Can’t let work get in the way of pleasure, right now, Mrs. Jeon. Not when I can finally make love to you like you’re mine.” You giggle at his words, unimaginably corny. But you can’t deny how good it makes you feel. “Wait, who said I’m yours?” “Fuck, don’t mess with me, woman. You- you just said!” “I am, relax! It’s a joke, Mr. Jeon. I see your cheesiness has changed now… but your sense of humour is just as poor as before.” He snarls against your lips, although it’s sexy in a way. “I’ll not let you go for comments like that, you know?”

_

So he doesn’t. He calls Jihoon and reschedules the meeting, and then he drives you home, in his car. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat, his hand wrapped in yours, as he pauses at every red light to kiss you. “I still can't believe it.” “You’ve got me here, Jeon. I’m not going away.” You can see the way his hands tremble, but you hold on tight. You’re telling him as much as you’re telling yourself, you’re never going away. 

It’s still raining outside, but he covers your head with his blazer as he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs to his apartment, doesn’t even lower you in the elevator. Thankfully there’s only an ahjumma inside the elevator, who doesn’t seem to mind, only giggles when you apologise. “It’s okay. I know how lovesick men can be,” she says, before she gets down at her designated floor. 

And then he doesn’t stop kissing you. He doesn’t leave your mouth even when the elevator door opens and you both walk out into your apartment. He doesn’t leave your mouth when you shrug off your heels and he takes off his own shoes. He doesn’t leave your mouth when he directly takes you all the way to the master bedroom, and just plops you down on the bed, you nearly springing up with the impact. 

“Wonwoo?” You ask when he turns away and walks into the closet, only to return with a box that’s too familiar to you. It has all your toys in it. “Do you know, Mrs. Jeon, just how cruel you’ve been by forcing me to see these every time I open the drawer to take out my underwear? He opens it slowly, showing you the three dildos inside, and the bullet vibrator Wonwoo himself had bought for you. “Every time I see them, it feels like you’re cheating on me, because fuck, how can anything give you pleasure when I literally exist?” His words are cheesy again, but in that dirty way which is so on brand for him. You’re leaking under the suit pants already, you know that. 

“Wonwoo… I… you know I don’t use them when you’re around.”

“And you shouldn’t have to use them ever. Not when I’m here to fuck you good like you deserve, like the cumslut you are, hmm?” He presses a finger under your chin, taking in a good look at you from above, before he orders, “Strip.”

So you do. He takes his sweet time watching you strip, while taking out one dildo from your box and his favourite ties. When you’re down to your underwear, he pauses you and extends a hand waiting for something. You know what’s coming, so you just extend your hands to him and let him tie you up. He smirks at your gesture, so he ties you up the poles of the bed. He also uses another tie to wrap around your eyes, and then he gently peels off your panties. “God, fuck. You smell heavenly.” Did he just sniff your underwear? “Wonwoo! Don’t!” There’s a sharp spank on your pussy, exposed to him in its wet glory, and you crumble instantly. “Little baby girls don’t tell Sir what to do and what not to do, hmm? They just take it as they’re given.” So he spanks you again, and it sends shivers through your body. Just the thought of fucking in the broad daylight seems like a sin, but then… isn’t this what married couples do?

You realise that Wonwoo’s seated himself next to you, and he’s gently taken your head into his lap. His hand is already playing with your clit, and you feel something cold and liquidy being rubbed over your pussy flesh. Lube? He’s still fully dressed, and you can feel the cold metal of his watch graze against your sensitive thigh, making you hiss in pleasure. 

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been taught a lesson, darling. Seems like getting married has made you feel like you’re beyond Sir’s control. But that’s not how it goes, is it?” You whisper out, “No… No Sir.” “Good girl. If you want to be treated like you’re married, then you’ve gotta earn it, yes? Now. Can you take one finger?” He inserts his finger gently, which is coated in the cold substance you’re assuming is lube. It isn’t really necessary, given how wet you are already, but it feels hotter when the lube is so cold inside you. 

You nod. “Words.” “Yes, I can.” So he slowly pumps it in, before saying, “Can you take two fingers?” You whimper as he stretches you by putting in two fingers. “Yes Sir.” “That’s a good girl.” The praise is making your head spin.

“And can you take-” he puts in another damn finger, “three fingers?” Now it’s a real burn. It’s in till his knuckles all too quickly but you can’t say no because you want to please. “Quick, princess. Don’t keep me waiting. Yes or n-” “Yes! I can. I will. I’m a good girl, Sir?” He pumps all three fingers deep until it hits your spot, and you scream out his name. “Such a good girl. Now fuck yourself on those fingers thinking that’s Sir’s cock.” 

You push up your hips, and he thrusts in, meeting your halfway. And then he sets the pace, as he fucks into you relentlessly, his other hand gently wrapping around your jaw and you take out your tongue, almost drooling, until he puts a finger inside your mouth too. You just know he’s smirking right now, with you being desperate for something in your mouth too, but you can’t care less. 

Your orgasm hits you as soon as he orders gently, “Cum for me, pretty baby.” But when you come down from your high, he doesn’t take his fingers out. He gently pumps in your cum into your system again, and you writhe with sensitivity. But he uses his other hand to stop you, as he takes it out of your mouth. “Now, can you take a dildo along with these fingers?” You gasp, because it’s not imaginable. “No, I… it’s too much, Sir.” “Is it? I don’t think it’s bigger than your husband’s dick, is it?” And fuck, you can’t stop yourself from clenching at that. It’s crazy how hot he makes it sound, but it feels amazing when he calls himself your husband. And he must feel your cunt clenching around his fingers as well, because he whispers near your ear, “Oh Mrs Jeon likes that, huh? Too bad she can’t take her husband’s cock then, because it’s too much-” “No I can take it! I can- I can fit in my husband’s cock.” You can hear the way Wonwoo grunts, as he plunges his fingers deeper into your cunt. “But first, I’ve got to train you, yes? You’ve become too unruly. You want to be the perfect wife, don’t you?” “Fuck!” you can’t form words as you clench around his fingers hopelessly, overstimulation forgotten, and buck up your hips to help him reach your spot. He just laughs and begins fucking you again, all three of his thick fingers snugly fit inside you till the knuckles. 

“Can you feel my wedding ring inside, baby?” He whispers again, and you cry out his name continuously as he drives you to a new high, so familiar, and yet so new. He’s your husband now, fuck. It’s a revelation that hits harder in the middle of sex, and you come instantly, coating his fingers with your essence. 

“Oh, my cockslut’s eager to please her husband, is she? So eager to be the perfect wife, is she?” 

“Yes, yes! Please- pl- I just want-”

“Want?”

“Please fuck me Wonwoo!”

He immediately removes his fingers from your pussy and you scream out as you feel empty. “Aaah! Please!” 

“I’m not making any girl who’s forgotten rules in the bedroom, feel good.” He takes off the tie that was wrapped around your eyes, and you notice that he’s not leaning down at you, his glasses still on, but his eyes dark with hunger. God, he’s hot.

“I’m sorry Sir.”

There’s a sharp spank to your clit, and you jump. It’s too much, but in the best way possible. 

“I’ll ask you again. Can you take three fingers and one of those dildos you love so much that you torture your husband with its sight every day?” He doesn’t break eye contact, and you whimper in front of him, pathetic and desperate. 

“Yes, Sir. I can.”

“Open your mouth.” 

Wordlessly, you do, and he spits into your mouth. Then he puts in the dildo. As you see the purple dildo, which is considerably slimmer than Wonwoo’s dick, but about the same length, enter your pussy, you notice how much Wonwoo’s gaze has hardened. Is he really jealous of that damn toy? It’s funny, so you buck your hips up to meet the way he’s slowly fucking you with the plastic dildo, and his eyes become more dangerous. 

“Are you that desperate for it, darling?”

“I want to feel full, Sir.” 

And then something in Wonwoo snaps. He wraps three fingers around the head of the dildo and along with the fingers, he plunges the dildo into you, stretching you out much more than before. The burn eases out after a second, but he fucks you at an incredibly slow pace, which only makes you eager for more. “Faster, please!” “You want me to fuck you with this plastic toy how I fuck you with my cock?” “Yes! I d- I do! I just want to feel full!” Then his other hand finds its way to your tits and twists a nipple hard enough to make it painful. “You’re such a whore, Y/N. Just a pretty whore. You’d take any cock just to keep your holes filled?” “No! I … I only like it when Sir does it for me.” “Liar. Just now you’re so happy to take this dildo, huh?” You can’t even think straight with the pace he’s torturing you at, but you do reply, “That’s- aah! Only- only because Sir’s fucking me with it. Because I can feel your wedding ring inside me, Sir!” 

“Fuck!” There’s another sharp pinch at your nipple before Wonwoo begins fucking you faster, and it only takes you a minute before he’s bringing you to yet another high which leaves you dizzy. 

“God, you’re left speechless. Does Mr Jeon fuck you that good?” He leans it to kiss you, his wet fingers now wrapped around your breasts. You can feel the way your cum still sticks on his fingers, but it feels too good to be gross. You kiss him back, arching your back off the bed, until he pulls away. 

He stands up from the bed, and languidly takes off his clothes. “So pretty like this, princess. Legs all spread out for who?”

“You, Wonwoo. My husband.” 

He stops his movements and stares at you for a second. It seems like calling him husband has the same effect on him as the effect on you when he calls you wife. “Yes, you’re right. Your husband.” He sits next to you to kiss you again and this time, you try to sit upright, in spite of your hands still being tied. When he breaks off, he says, “So let me train you to be my wife, hmm? I want to fuck you so good that your pussy shapes itself around me. That you won’t even need prep when I want to fuck you because it’ll be so used to me.” Oh, no wonder for that size training. “Why? Does your cock get bigger now that you’re my husband?” He smirks, eyes cruel because you’re talking back to him. “No, because I need to fit in perfectly to ensure none of my seed leaves you when I’m breeding you.” And then he attacks your neck, and you’re moaning even before his lips hit skin because his words flip some switches in you that you’ve never even known. Sure, Wonwoo’s always fucked you raw because you’ve been on pills for years, but the idea of him breeding a child into you? Fuck. You’d never even thought about having a child, but this idea turns you on remarkably insanely. 

Soon his shirt is off and he unties your hands. “Take off my pants for me, baby.” And you do. You tease him a bit, but that’s only fair with how hard he’s sucking your breasts, as if he’s born to do this. Before taking off his boxers, you notice the precum that’s leaking out so much that it’s made the fabric quite wet. So you lick his dick clean while it’s still inside his boxers, and you’ve got him hissing and grunting like never before. “Fuck, Y/N, don’t,” he pulls your head away. “Why?” He must notice the way his precum is still sticking on your lips, because he groans again. “I want to cum inside you. Breed you full, baby.” That puts a shy smile on your face as he takes off his underwear, and you finally see his cock upright, leaking and bright red. And perhaps you’re delusional after all those orgasms, but it does seem bigger than before. 

“Please, Mr Jeon, take me.” And he responds to your begging. He kisses you softly, as he lines himself up with you, his left hand still pulling your hands up above your head, and your right hand clutching your hips in an iron grip that will leave marks. And then he just enters, without warning, till the hilt, and you both moan out at the sensation. You don’t know why it feels different, but with how he’s kissing you, almost softly and gently, like he’s a gentleman, while fucking you ruthlessly like he’s in rut, you’re in heaven for sure. 

It’s also the first time Wonwoo is so audible during sex. He’s panting and moaning, although much softer than you, but his sounds spur you on even harder. He can’t stop whispering your name and other pet names in your ears, while you keep moaning his name loud even to burst his eardrums. He doesn’t care. He responds to every word you utter, every little request you beg, and he fucks you fast and hard, until he can’t hold on any further and his entire body is trembling with the incoming orgasm. “Mrs Jeon, can you cum with me?” “Yes, please, Sir.” And so you do, releasing into each other while still making out with each other. It feels like you’ve entered a different dimension of pleasure, and Wonwoo is here with you. It’s a safe feeling beyond description, and you pass out right there.

_

When you do wake up, you find Wonwoo sitting next to you with a cloth in his hands, wiping gently at your legs. 

“How long have I been out?” 

“About ten minutes?”

He doesn’t answer smoothly. You can see the way his hands move softly, almost worshipping. 

“I love you, Wonwoo.”

Then he looks up at you, and you see the way his eyes are quivering. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” “Nothing.” “No, tell me.” “Nothing just-” You sit up, and take his hands in your own. Then you nod at him, gently urging him on. 

“Was it too much?”

“Huh?”

“Did I push you too much?”

“No. I would’ve used my safeword if you did.”

“But what if you forgot the safeword in the middle of it all- what if you got too pushed by me-”

“I wasn’t, and that’s what matters. I remember it all the time, Wonwoo, you… the traffic lights aren’t really easy to forget. I would tap out somehow if I felt like too much. But it wasn’t, so where’s this coming from?”

“Nothing… I… I hope you’re not just taking it from me because I’m your husband now.”

And at that, you laugh. “Hell, nah, Wonwoo. You know I wouldn’t take it from you even if you were god. You’ve really got me all wrong, then.”

He smiles weakly, and you know it’s still on his mind. So you move over to sit gently on his lap. “Wonwoo, when I said earlier that you know my limits. I wasn’t lying, you know. You do. You don’t push me too much.”

“But if I ever do-”

“If you ever do, you should know that I’ll tap out at once and never forgive you. You always make me feel safe, Wonwoo.” And you hug him, and the fact that you’re both naked makes your hug even warmer and softer as you feel Wonwoo’s hands wrap around your back as well. 

“I love you too, Y/N. I promise I’ll always keep you safe.” And then he kisses your forehead, and you snuggle your face right into the crook of his neck. He smells… like Wonwoo, and it feels like home. 

“Now, how about some lunch, baby?”

“You’re hungry when I had to do all the work?” You gasp while still tucked into his neck, and he giggles with the way your breath tickles his neck. 

“So what does my pretty wife want?”

“She just wants to cuddle you and sleep.” 

“And my wife’s wishes are my commands.”

So he lays down, with you still on top of him like a koala, and pulls the blankets over you both, wrapping you into one tiny ball. You look at him with a fond smile, and you see your expression mirrored in his. “I love you so much, Y/N-ah.”

“And I love you, Wonwoo. I could love nobody else apart from you.”

[urdreamydoodles]

Bat-Villains x Reader

You're the new hot and smart underling

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

The Joker

- From the moment you joined the Joker’s ranks, his interest was piqued. Your sharp mind and striking presence stood out amongst the usual riff-raff. “A diamond in the rough!” he declared with a manic grin. Though he initially treated you like any other henchperson, his curious glances and the way he leaned in during conversations hinted at deeper intrigue.

- The Joker quickly made it a point to test your intellect. He threw out riddles mid-conversation, asked for your input on his chaotic plans, and watched with delight as you matched his wit. When you pointed out a flaw in one of his schemes—something no one else dared to do—he clapped his hands and cackled. “I like you,” he said, the words dangerously lighthearted.

- He couldn’t resist pulling you into the spotlight, often assigning you the most high-profile tasks. “Let’s see what you’re really made of!” he’d say with a grin that sent chills down your spine. Success was met with a rare approval, while failure earned a manic lecture or a laugh that felt more threatening than amused.

- Over time, his obsession with you became clear. He’d show up unannounced while you worked, circling you like a predator and commenting on how “refreshingly unpredictable” you were. His attention was both a blessing and a curse, offering protection but also putting you in constant danger of his volatile whims.

- The other henchpeople noticed the Joker’s fixation on you, leading to whispers and jealousy. Some even tried to undermine you, but the Joker put an immediate stop to it. “Nobody touches my little genius,” he’d hiss, his voice icy before switching back to his signature grin.

- Despite his madness, there were moments where his attention bordered on genuine. He’d hand you a gift—a macabre joke of a trinket—and watch your reaction with keen interest. Yet, his affection always felt like a game, a dangerous dance where losing meant the stakes could turn deadly.

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Harley was instantly drawn to you when you joined the gang. “Ooh, fresh meat!” she teased, her Brooklyn accent thick with mischief. It didn’t take long for her to notice your sharp mind and how you carried yourself with confidence. “Smart and hot? You’re a triple threat, sugar!” she exclaimed, clearly intrigued.

- Harley loved testing your limits, throwing you into chaotic situations to see how you handled them. Whether it was a high-speed getaway or negotiating with rival criminals, she’d watch you with sparkling eyes, clapping her hands in glee when you exceeded expectations.

- Her flirtation was constant and shameless. She’d saunter up to you during planning sessions, twirling a strand of her blonde-and-pink hair. “Y’know, if I wasn’t with Mistah J, I’d have to snatch you up,” she’d say with a wink, though you couldn’t always tell how serious she was.

- As your competence became undeniable, Harley began to rely on you more and more. She’d drag you into her schemes, insisting, “You’re my good luck charm!” She’d giggle when things went awry but always trusted you to pull them back together.

- Harley wasn’t above showing off for you, either. During fights or heists, she’d go out of her way to make dramatic, acrobatic moves, casting a playful glance your way afterward. “Betcha didn’t know I could do that, huh?” she’d say, grinning ear to ear.

- Beneath her bubbly exterior, Harley grew genuinely attached to you. She’d seek you out during quiet moments, talking about everything from the stars to her favorite cartoons. “You’re somethin’ special, y’know?” she’d say softly, her tone unusually serious before covering it with a laugh.

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- Ivy noticed you the moment you walked in. She had an uncanny way of sensing power, and there was something about your intelligence and charisma that intrigued her. “You’re not like the rest of them,” she said with a sly smile, her green eyes piercing.

- She tested you in subtle ways, asking for your opinion on her environmental crusades or challenging you with complex tasks. When you provided thoughtful, insightful answers, she found herself impressed. “Hmm, perhaps you’re worth keeping around,” she mused, though the glimmer of approval in her gaze said more.

- Ivy quickly took you under her wing, ensuring you worked closely with her. She’d often call you to her greenhouse, watching as you moved carefully among her plants. “You have respect for life,” she’d note, almost to herself. Her approval felt rare and precious, like sunlight through the trees.

- Her fondness for you grew in small but significant ways. She’d casually offer you gifts—rare flowers or herbs—claiming they were “just leftovers.” When you thanked her, she’d wave it off, but the faint smile on her lips betrayed her pleasure.

- Ivy’s protective instincts soon kicked in. If anyone in the organization dared to disrespect you, they’d find themselves tangled in vines before they could blink. “No one touches what’s mine,” she’d declare, her voice cold and commanding, though she never elaborated on the claim.

- Despite her aloof demeanor, Ivy valued your presence deeply. In quiet moments, she’d open up about her dreams of a better world, her voice soft and wistful. “You understand,” she’d say, almost vulnerable. “You see the beauty in the chaos, just like me.”

Bane

- Bane was initially skeptical of you. Beauty and intelligence were rare qualities among his recruits, and he wondered if you were too good to be true. “Prove your worth,” he demanded, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you. His voice was calm but carried the weight of a challenge.

- You quickly earned his respect through your sharp strategies and unflinching determination. Bane valued strength, both physical and mental, and your ability to stay calm under pressure impressed him. “You are more capable than most,” he admitted, a rare compliment from the man who broke the Bat.

- Bane began involving you in higher-level plans, seeking your input and trusting your judgment. “You think like a tactician,” he observed, his dark eyes studying you intently. His approval felt earned, a testament to your hard work and resilience.

- Despite his stoic demeanor, Bane showed his care in subtle ways. He ensured you were well-protected during missions, assigning his most loyal soldiers to watch your back. “Your mind is a valuable asset,” he’d say, though his actions hinted at something more personal.

- Over time, Bane’s respect for you deepened into admiration. He found himself drawn to your unwavering determination and the way you carried yourself with quiet confidence. “You remind me of someone who fights for what they believe in,” he said once, his tone almost reverent.

- Bane’s connection to you became undeniable when he began sharing fragments of his past. “Strength is forged in pain,” he told you one night, his voice low and reflective. “You understand that. It’s why you belong here—with me.” His words carried a rare vulnerability, a glimpse of the man beneath the mask.

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- Jonathan’s first impression of you was clinical curiosity. Among the sea of his mindless minions, your sharp intelligence and composed demeanor were a breath of fresh air. He observed you silently for days, cataloging your behavior like a subject in his experiments. “Fascinating,” he murmured to himself when you solved a problem no one else could.

- He wasted no time putting your mind to the test, assigning you tasks meant to break weaker recruits. When you succeeded with ease, he became both intrigued and slightly unnerved. “You’re more resilient than I expected,” he remarked, his tone bordering on admiration, though his calculating eyes betrayed his constant evaluation.

- As you gained his respect, Jonathan began sharing his philosophical musings with you. “Fear,” he’d say, leaning closer, “is the only true motivator.” He watched your reactions intently, searching for a flicker of agreement or defiance. Your willingness to engage in these debates only solidified his growing fascination with you.

- Over time, he involved you in his experiments, valuing your input on the effects of his fear toxin. He’d watch you work with a rare, quiet intensity, occasionally breaking the silence to ask your opinion. “Tell me,” he said once, “what do you fear most?” The question lingered in the air, more personal than professional.

- Jonathan’s protectiveness over you grew subtly. If anyone questioned your methods or competence, he’d silence them with a single glare. “This one,” he’d say, his voice cold, “is not to be underestimated.” His approval came sparingly, but when given, it felt like a hard-earned triumph.

- Despite his detached nature, Jonathan found himself drawn to your presence in a way that surprised even him. During his quieter moments, he’d share fragments of his past, his voice tinged with bitterness and vulnerability. “Perhaps,” he said one night, almost to himself, “fear isn’t the only thing that defines us.”

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- Harvey noticed you the moment you joined his organization. Half of him admired your intelligence and poise, while the other half—gruffer, more distrusting—demanded you prove your loyalty. “Let’s see how you handle yourself,” he said, flipping his coin. Heads, you were given a chance; tails, you were thrown into the fire.

- Your quick thinking and unshakable composure soon won over both sides of Harvey. He appreciated your ability to adapt to his volatile moods, navigating his dual nature with surprising ease. “You’re good,” he admitted one day, his scarred side smirking while the unscarred side gave a small nod of approval.

- Harvey began relying on you for more than just grunt work, bringing you into his inner circle. He’d consult you during planning sessions, flipping his coin before agreeing with your suggestions. “You’re smart,” he said, his voice laced with reluctant admiration. “Almost too smart for your own good.”

- Despite his hardened exterior, Harvey showed glimpses of softness around you. On rare occasions, he’d let his guard down, speaking about the struggles of balancing his two selves. “You think it’s easy?” he asked one night, his voice raw. “Living with two voices in your head?” He didn’t expect an answer but seemed comforted by your understanding.

- His dual nature extended to how he treated you. On good days, he’d praise your work and share a drink with you, his charm shining through. On bad days, he’d lash out, only to apologize later. “You shouldn’t stick around someone like me,” he muttered once, his good side conflicted while his bad side growled, “But you will.”

- Over time, Harvey’s admiration for you turned into something deeper. He became fiercely protective, warning anyone who dared to question your loyalty or competence. “This one’s mine,” he’d say, the flip of his coin deciding whether the threat ended there—or escalated further.

Edward Nygma aka. The Riddler

- Edward immediately gravitated toward you when you joined his crew. Your intelligence was obvious, and he couldn’t resist testing it. “Riddle me this,” he said with a smirk, throwing out puzzles and watching with delight as you solved them with ease. “Finally,” he exclaimed, “someone worthy of my brilliance!”

- He quickly made you his personal protégé, dragging you into his elaborate schemes and assigning you tasks that required both wit and precision. “Don’t disappoint me,” he warned, though the gleam in his eye suggested he didn’t expect you to. Your successes only fueled his ego, making him more confident in his choice.

- Edward loved showing off around you, often monologuing about his genius or presenting you with his latest riddles. He craved your approval, though he’d never admit it outright. “You see it, don’t you?” he’d ask, leaning closer. “How much smarter I am than everyone else?”

- As your bond grew, Edward became more possessive of your time and attention. He’d grow irritable if you worked with anyone else, muttering about how “inferior minds” didn’t deserve your talents. “You’re wasted on them,” he’d say, his tone dripping with disdain.

- Despite his arrogance, Edward valued your opinions deeply. He’d often ask for your input during planning sessions, genuinely considering your ideas. When you outsmarted him in a rare moment, he was equal parts annoyed and impressed. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he grumbled, though his smile betrayed his pride in you.

- Beneath his bravado, Edward harbored a genuine fondness for you. In quieter moments, he’d confide in you about his insecurities, his voice softer and more vulnerable than you’d ever heard. “Do you think they’ll ever truly understand me?” he asked once, his question laced with an uncharacteristic hint of doubt.

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- Oswald was skeptical when you first joined his ranks. He’d seen plenty of attractive recruits come and go, and he assumed you’d be no different. But when you demonstrated your sharp mind and ability to navigate his world, he quickly took notice. “Hmm,” he muttered, adjusting his monocle. “You might be more useful than you look.”

- He began assigning you more important tasks, watching closely to see how you handled yourself. When you not only met but exceeded his expectations, he couldn’t help but be impressed. “Well, well,” he said with a smirk. “It seems I’ve underestimated you.”

- Oswald had a flair for theatrics, and he loved dragging you into his schemes. He’d show off his wealth and power, often treating you to luxurious dinners or gifting you extravagant trinkets. “Consider it an investment,” he’d say, though his smug grin suggested otherwise.

- Over time, Oswald’s respect for you grew into admiration. He appreciated your loyalty and competence, valuing you as more than just another underling. “You’ve got potential,” he told you one night, his tone unusually sincere. “Stick with me, and you’ll go far.”

- Despite his ruthless nature, Oswald showed surprising protectiveness over you. If anyone dared to disrespect or threaten you, they’d find themselves at the mercy of his sharp-tipped umbrella. “No one crosses the Penguin,” he growled, his eyes cold. “Especially not someone under my wing.”

- Oswald’s attachment to you became evident in his quieter moments. He’d share stories of his past, his voice tinged with bitterness and longing. “The world never gave me a chance,” he said once, his gaze distant. “But you—you’re different. You’ve got what it takes to survive.”

[dylan24obrixn]

Kakashi's Little Wife

Relationship: Hatake Kakashi x fem!Reader

Content: fluff, slight angst if you squint, mentions of cheating (nobody cheats, don't worry), suggestive humor, size kink, breeding kink. adult language, mentions of smut. Kakashi's POV

Word Count: 2.4k

Work Summary: Kakashi's wife has been acting suspicious for a few weeks now, staying out late, leaving early. Kakashi finds himself losing his mind, wondering what his sweet little wife could be up to.

Kakashi knew that when he became Hokage, life would change. He used to spend most of his days teaching during the day, and at night he would come home to his wife, (Y/N), who he adored more than anything else. They met when they were kids, (Y/N) was a bright and boisterous energy that Kakashi was not used to. He would spend his early days scowling at (Y/N), wondering why she was always so happy. She didn’t have the easiest life, and yet she was always smiling, which caused a bit of confusion on Kakashi’s part. That didn’t stop (Y/N) from trying her best to be the light in Kakashi’s life. She literally barreled her way into his life, and now he finds himself wondering what he would do without her. 

Which makes the fact that she’s spent this entire week practically hiding from him, quite strange. (Y/N) spent the majority of their time since being married, perched on Kakashi’s lap, just the way he liked it. So Kakashi found himself wondering what she could be doing. She was his trusted advisor, his confidant, and his wife. She was just a tiny little thing, no more than 4’9 on a good day, blonde hair long and straight, and Kakashi found himself getting lost in her baby blue eyes. Eyes that he wishes he was staring into instead of this incredibly complex and illegible report. 

He sighed softly, setting the parchment to the side. (Y/N) would have this decoded and transcribed in minutes, and yet he had been staring at it for what felt like hours. He was the freaking Hokage, why was this so difficult for him right now? He groaned softly and stood up, walking over to the window and leaning against the frame, looking down at the city. He remembered when he would cause all sorts of havoc in the streets, and (Y/N) would somehow always be there to reign him back in before he went too far. (Y/N)... what was his little wife doing right now that was more important than being here with him?

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and without turning around, he muttered. “Come in…”. He didn’t turn to see who it was. Although the knock sounded like his wife’s, he no longer got his hopes up. She hadn’t come to visit him in weeks, too caught up in whatever it was she was doing to visit. Not that he wouldn’t ask her. Every time they laid in bed together, he would ask where she was, what she was doing, why she didn’t come visit him. Every time, she’d lay a soft tiny hand on his bicep and ask in that sweet melodious voice of hers: “Don’t you trust me Kashi?”. And he did, he really did. (Y/N) wasn’t one to cheat, they were each other’s first everything, and they spent years secretly pining after each other before Kakashi finally broke down one day and kissed her, to which she happily kissed him back. At the time, her kisses felt like they could cure all of Kakashi’s ailments. Now, it felt like a bandaid, a way to pacify him so he would stop pestering her about her whereabouts. Kakashi wondered sometimes….

“Kashi?” That sweet melodious voice of his wife’s travelled to his ears, and he turned around instantly. She was standing at his door, dressed in one of his shirts that felt like more of a dress on her than a shirt. The soft swell of her pregnant belly just barely peeked under the shirt, her pants were dirty, and her little feet were clad in the same shoes she slipped on this morning before sneaking out when she thought he was asleep. He stalked towards her, his excitement taking over before she lifted a finger, stopping him in his tracks. “I’m a clone, before you try anything” She said, and Kakashi’s heart sank. Of course she was a clone, his wife couldn’t be bothered to come see him herself. He thought to himself that this pacifying him thing was getting very old, very fast. He sighed, but before he could say anything, she spoke again.

“(Y/N) summoned me to come get you, it’s late after all. She has a surprise for you, and asked me to give this to you before taking you where you need to go” Kakashi took the little envelope and opened it up. The sweet smell of his wife’s vanilla perfume wafted through his senses, and he smiled softly before reading the note. 

“Kashi, my dear, please don’t be upset with me for sending a clone. I have a surprise for you, one that i’ve spent weeks crafting and it’s been torture not telling you my love. Sometimes I slip out of the house before you wake up so I don’t have to face you and keep a secret from you. Today is the day. Put on the blindfold and follow my clone. 

Yours forever,

(Y/N)

P.S: That me, is not me. It is a clone. So no funny business mister! I will find out!”

Kakashi chuckled softly, and brought the blindfold up to his uncovered eye, tying it around himself and slipping the note into his pocket. He felt the clone take his hand, and led him out of his office. He followed quietly, thinking to himself. What could his wife have spent so much time doing? What would be so important that she couldn’t tell him? She was well into her second trimester at this point, and he worried about their child. They found out they were pregnant mere hours after their wedding. (Y/N) had… passed out after they consummated their marriage for the first time. It was their first time actually engaging in full on intercourse, and while Kakashi’s first thought was that ninja babies grow faster than regular, that was not the case. Kakashi would find… other means of relieving stress with his wife, who was his fiance at the time, which would include Kakashi finishing on (Y/N)’s pussy... just not inside. Kakashi asked the nurse if that was possible? Could him cumming on her pussy really get her pregnant? The nurse assured him that, while rare, it was not an impossible situation. 

“Alright, we’re here. I’ll be going now, take your blindfold off and head inside when you’re ready” The clone said, giving his arm a soft squeeze before disappearing. Kakashi sighed softly and took a breath, removing his blindfold slowly. His eyes squinted and blinked, adjusting to the light. Although it was evening, it was not pitch black like it was under the blindfold. As his eyes adjusted, his heart stopped.

In front of him was his childhood home, the home that his father raised him in, before he took his life. The worn down chipped paint on the house had been refinished, the cobblestone walkway had been replaced, even the mailbox was new, his name branded on the black mailbox in big white letters. The flowerbeds had been weeded out and filled, small cherry blossom trees and sunflowers planted in the beds, which happened to be his wife’s favorite flowers. He tentatively stepped towards the door, his heart beating out of his chest. What was going on? Did his wife really fix up his childhood home? 

He swings the door open slowly, and his heart starts beating out of his chest. There’s pictures of Kakashi and (Y/N) on their wedding day on the wall, ultrasound pictures of their unborn child, there’s pictures of (Y/N) on the wall with her Gram, and Kakashi’s eyes tear up at the photo of his father and himself when they were younger, before his father passed. It looks like an old photo, one that looks like it’s been meticulously restored. He steps forward slowly, his eyes welling with tears. Their entire life is on the wall in front of him, their time together captured in a beautiful timeline. Each photo brings Kakashi closer and closer, and finally, when he tears his gaze away from the wall, he notices her. (Y/N) is standing in the doorway of the hallway, her beautiful long blonde hair which is normally up in a bun is down, curled and tickling her hips, her baby blue eyes are wide with what he believes to be both anxiety and happiness, the little freckles that adorn her beautiful face are flushed with the blush on her cheeks, and his gaze falls down slightly to notice the baby pink nightgown she has on. Silk, with lace trimming, it’s small, barely grazes her thighs, and her tiny petite figure looks nothing less than stunning as she stands there. The soft swell of her belly is enunciated by her tiny hands, which are cupping her belly softly. Kakashi steps forward, and then stops himself with a soft chuckle.

“Are you a clone too?” He asks, his voice hoarse. (Y/N) shakes her head, and smiles tentatively at him. 

“No, it’s me Kashi” She says, and before she can speak further, he’s pressed himself against her, against the wall, and is cupping her tiny face in his hands. His thumb rubs across her cheek in a soft manner, and he smiles at her. Her little hands reach up and pull down his mask, and he tosses the forehead protector that usually hides his Sharingan eye aside, as she stares at him. Her little hands travel the expanse of his face, softly grazing the scar on the underside of his eye he received in battle as a child. Tears are in her eyes as well as she peers up at him. She opens her mouth to speak, but he leans down and presses his lips to hers, pulling her close. He can’t believe this is what she’s been up to, never in a million years did Kakashi ever think that anyone, even his wife, would care for him enough to do this. Yet here she is, standing here like a vision in front of him, with what Kakashi can only describe as the world’s greatest surprise for him.

His hands travel, one down to her lower back, pressed against the small of her back. The other is cupping her cheek, feeling how her mouth moves against his like they’re two pieces of a puzzle meant for each other. She lets out a soft moan and pulls away, much to Kakashi’s dismay. She smiles softly and places a little kiss to the bottom of his chin, which she has to stand on her tippy toes to reach. He chuckles and looks down at her and she smiles at him. 

“I have one more surprise” she says, and he smiles as she guides him to an empty room. He opens the door, and his brows furrow. It’s just an empty room, and he turns to look at her confused. 

“I thought we could decorate together” (Y/N) explains, and Kakashi realizes this is the nursery. His eyes widen and he smiles, more tears forming in his eyes as he takes off his mask which is currently bunched around his neck, and scoops up (Y/N) in his arms, kissing her tenderly. She kisses him back, her small hands clutching her husband’s shoulders as he guides her to the bedroom. He shuts the door with his foot, but as he sets her down, she holds her hand up. He looks at her again, brows furrowed, and she leads him to an oversized chair in the bedroom. He sits down, and immediately before she can even speak, pulls her onto his lap. She giggles softly and bites her lip, peering at him.

“C’mon, i’ve spent the last several weeks without my tiny wife on my lap, i’m not going a minute longer” He says and she blushes, reaching forward to grab something. He kisses her neck, and she whines, grabbing something off the side table and hands it to him. He looks at it for a moment and realizes it’s the gender results for their baby. Kakashi and (Y/N) decided at the last appointment to look at the results when they were ready, and Kakashi had to agree this felt like the perfect time. (Y/N) snuggled softly into his lap, her tiny stance making her a small little doll in his arms, which Kakashi loved. He peers down at her and kisses the top of her head with a smile.

“You’re so pretty little one. Thank you for surprising me with this, this has officially been the best day ever” He says and she giggles softly and ushers him to open the envelope. He tentatively tears it, pulling out the ultrasound and reads the lettering on it. Tears well in his eyes, and he feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. Kakashi never wanted kids, it wasn’t something that he thought about. It wasn’t something he thought he’d be good at. He kept to that for a long time, until one day, when (Y/N) walked in to their bedroom, wearing a kimono that had “HATAKE” in bold letters across her shoulders, and his clan symbol spread out down the back of the robe. He knew right then and there that he wanted to make (Y/N) a mother, no matter what it took. It gave Kakashi quite a breeding kink, one he has since exercised on multiple occasions. But the sight of his wife, wearing his clan’s symbol, taking his name like it was an honor rather than a burden, that changed his mind. And now Kakashi was sitting here, with the same woman who is now his wife, learning that he’s going to have a-

“It’s a boy!” (Y/N) says softly, her little fingers tracing the ultrasound. Kakashi smiles and nods, placing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“That he is little one. You’ve got our little boy in your pretty little belly” She blushes and both of their hands move to caress her belly, the little boy kicking as he feels his Mommy and Daddy’s hands on her belly. She smiles down at her belly and whispers softly to the baby, before looking up at Kakashi, biting her lip. It only lasts a moment, before she says softly.

“I want to name him Sakumo. After your father. He will grow up to surpass both of us, and he will be the strongest little guy in the village”

And that right there? Is when Kakashi knew that this woman was his soulmate.

[pannman]

Yandere Vox and Valentino x angel Fem reader who snuck to hell to help Charlie out.

Its been a while since I tried learning Spanish and I used Google translate to help out but I apologize if I got it wrong

Caught on Camera

Cw: toxic behavior, stalking, toxic relationships, suggestiveness

You had felt compelled to do something when the princess of hell pleaded her case to heaven. To think they've been slaughtering hell's citizens this whole time and for the reason of overpopulation.

It all seemed so unfair and the princess seemed to actually be making an impact as you all saw the sinner she was trying to redeem act very selfless. Looking out for his friend and standing up to someone with power over him to protect others. Yet the seraphim concluded that there was no helping him.

You couldn't believe the events you witness so you decided that enough was enough and you packed your bags and took a portal to hell. (Without telling anyone of course). When you arrived you noticed that it was like earth but worse. Dirty with crime in every corner.

You tried not to be judgemental. You didn't like how the angels acted so superior towards the princess and her people so you wanted to be as open minded as you could. You tried to find some kind of directions so you make your way to the hotel but nobody seemed inclined to help.

Meanwhile you were unaware that as an angel showing up in hell you were attracting more attention than you realized. The demons that noticed your halo and wings began to whisper about and you were oblivious to the cameras watching you since you arrived.

"Is that really an Angel?" Vox pondered. "She certainly looks like she comes from heaven" Valentino said with slightly suggestive implications. "She might be powerful if we can get her to make a deal..." Vox's words trailed off as he felt consumed with the way she moved. She was born to be on a screen. "...We'll have to make sure she doesn’t make it to her intended destination." He caught himself trying to hide his allure towards her.

Val on the other hand never tried to hide anything. "Ella seguro es hermosa. I wonder if she'd be open to filming something with me." He spoke as he eyed her on the screen. Vox tried to contain the unreasonable amount of jealousy he was already feeling. "Well if I get a deal with her we can share." Vox lied. He didn't have any plans to share her. Val didn't seem to like that idea.

"How come you want her so bad? Maybe if I get her I can make us both rich." They both threw shade at one another while trying to hide their true feelings before they noticed the cameras had lost their precious little angel. "HEY! WHERED SHE GO?!?" Vox shouted. They searched street after street before the drone found her again. She was close to the hazbin hotel. "Shit! We can't let her get there." Vox declared. "You're right. We can discuss this once we have her here." Valentino said being uncharacteristically reasonable for once.

"I'll cut her off and you meet me there" Vox knew he might have to share her with Val but he started to feel confident he could manipulate him enough to keep him in check at the very least. Now all he needed to do was convince an Angel to trust a demon which was something he wasn't too concerned about. Convincing people to trust him was literally his job. And it was pretty damn good at it. This should be easy.

[neonshadows9000]

Two tropes I love are TimKon Clone Baby AUs and Tim being of Asian descent, so what if we combine them?

In his grief induced, sleep deprived spiral Tim manages to produce a viable embryo and conks out right after confirming that it has no detectable defects and will not terminate if he takes his eyes off it.

When he wakes up he realizes how fucked up this whole situation is but by then accelerated aging has already grown the child to be visible with the naked eye and Tim can't bring himself to abort it despite the moral concerns and ramifications of keeping it. It's not Kon, he knows that, but it's the closest he has to him so he decides to let incubation progress and deal with the consequences.

He stops the accelerated growing to give himself more time organising how he's going to mange this and so he can tell the relevant people beforehand instead of just turning up with a child. But then Bruce dies, or so everyone thinks, and Tim leaves to get him back himself when it becomes clear that he can't rely on anyone to help.

His search for Bruce works on a different time schedule driven by desparation and recklessness because he needs to get back to the child as fast as humanly possible. This causes him to take more risks and be less forgiving in his actions and he manages to gather enough evidence sooner. He sends the information to the JL and makes sure to prevent Ra's from continuing the fight in Gotham before getting the kid and dropping off the grid, letting everyone else make their own assumptions on what happened to him. Their actions when he confided in them about his theory had shown him that he can't trust them anymore, so he leaves.

He rushes to prepare his departure with the now born baby and leaves for his mother's childhood home in the Philippines. He'd visited it a few times with his mother and once with Kon but nobody else knows about it. (What Tim doesn't know is that in his haste to disappear he forgot to erase the simplest thing.)

Tim raises the child there, learning more about his own heritage and meeting estranged family members along the way.

He's using tech to disguise himself, appearance and biosignatures, from both the Justice League and the remains of Ra's empire, with Tam and Pru keeping him up to date on significant happenings respectively.

Meanwhile Dick has been worrying about Tim, which is only amplified when Bruce comes back and Tim doesn't, when Bruce asks about him and Dick doesn't have an answer, when Kon and Bart return with grandiose tales of the future to no best friend to tell them to.

Bruce starts searching for Tim during his recovery and Cassie catches Kon and Bart up to everything that happened between their deaths and Tim's disappearance.

They notice she's holding back on telling them something and she reluctantly shares how she caught him trying to clone Kon. Kon, overwhelmed and disturbed by the news, leaves them to process by himself. When he's calmed down and rationalised that he doesn't have the whole story, since Tim isn't here to tell it, he goes to the lab to look for... anything, really. A notebook, a diary, something that can tell him what Tim was thinking.

He finds the lab empty, all notes and cloning equipment destroyed. But on the computer he finds evidence that Tim was here after he disappeared, and that the cloning was successful.

So Kon is sure that Tim is out there, that he's with a child and that he went of his own accord. Where would Tim go, avoiding everyone that would search for him? That could be anywhere!

But does the child, his child, change his decision making? Kon can think of one place, far enough to not raise unwelcome memories of what he's leaving behind, sentimental enough to want to introduce his child to and secret enough that only one other living person knows about it. Or no other, considering that Tim was gone before he could find out that Kon's alive from anyone in the community and the news isn't public yet.

Kon flies to the home Tim had shown him once and finds it lived in. Toys and food and clothes and pictures all over the place. But no Tim and no baby. So Kon waits.

Tim comes back a few hours later, child in tow, from visiting his great aunt and uncle who he has started visiting regularly to learn about his family's history and share about his and his mother's lives in America. They're slowly starting to not need his cousins to translate anymore as Tim is learning enough Filipino to make up for their limited English.

The sight that greets Tim when he rounds corner is Kon tracing the pictures that Tim has taken and hung up since moving here.

Tim bursts into tears as he sees Kon, who himself startles, at Tim's entrance. They have a long, tearful reunion before Kon asks about the kid and Tim explains everything.

In the end Kon isn't happy about what happened but he sees the difference in how Clark and Luthor treat him to how Tim loves the child. He sees how Tim regrets hurting Kon with his actions and how what he did was not out of greed but out of grief.

Kon visits often after that, getting introduced to Tim's extended family and Tam and Pru. He eventually brings up letting other people know and Tim's apprehensive but lets Kon bring Bart the next time. Bart who is ecstatic at being an uncle and will definitely spoil the kid rotten. Together they manage to convince Tim to give telling other people a try, not necessarily about the kid or his location but at least that he's alive.

So Tim starts video calls with Bruce and Dick and Cassie, telling them that he's fine but that he won't come home, talking about what happened and how each of them hurt because of it. Eventually he'll let Kon take him for a visit in person. Eventually he'll tell them about his son, scared and hopeful, and they'll tell him that they'd love to meet him. Eventually he introduces them and watches everyone coo and baby talk to him.

Eventually Tim's anxiety about seeing them will turn into excitement and his son will grow up knowing his family in the Philippines and his family in America.

[aventurineswife]

I just thought of this now and knew it would be funny but,

What about a platonic!reader x aventurine but reader is like a grandma Madea. I feel like this would be funny since Madea does a lot of illegal stuff and since the IPC is sorta a government. Although she jokes around a lot, everyone knows she doesn't play when it comes to her family.

I feel like it would be really nice for Aventurine to see how much someone genuinely cares.

“You've Got a Friend”

Summary: When IPC’s gambling prodigy, Aventurine, meets a surprising new friend—[Name], a feisty grandma with Madea-like energy and a knack for stirring up trouble—his life takes an unexpected turn.

Tags: Platonic, Aventurine & Grandma Reader, found family, humor, tough love, loyalty, protective reader, unconventional friendship, hurt/comfort, lighthearted moments, character growth, emotional support, Reader is implied female(she/her) but nothing in details, Reader refers Aventurine with nicknames.

Warnings: Mild language, references to emotional scars, some themes of loneliness

A/N: I'M SO SORRY IF I GOT THIS WRONG SOMEHOW OR SOMETHING!! I HAVE NEVER WATCHED THE FILM/MOVIE AND TO READ THE WIKIPEDIA TO UNDERSTAND HER CHARACTER!! 😭

Aventurine knew he’d seen his share of unpredictable people, but nothing could have prepared him for you.

He'd met you by accident—a rumor had surfaced of an unusual figure wreaking havoc at a nearby IPC office, and he thought he'd investigate, assuming it was just another rowdy client. When he arrived, however, he found the office staff staring in shock as you, in all your “grandma” glory, stood there lecturing a young agent on the importance of family values, all while waving around your purse like a weapon.

“Now, let me tell you something, sugar,” you declared, your tone sweet but deadly serious. “When a boy like my grandson comes to your office, he’s here for business, not to be messed with. You play nice, and so will I. Got it?”

You didn’t notice Aventurine standing there at first, taking in the scene with a mix of curiosity and amusement. Finally, you turned, catching his gaze, your eyes narrowing slightly as you assessed him.

“Well, look at you, Mr. Fancy Pants,” you said, giving him a once-over. “What’s a youngin’ like you doing workin’ for the government, hmm? Ain't no good come from trustin' those suits. Just you remember that.”

The other employees in the office looked around nervously, but Aventurine only chuckled. “You must be…[Name]?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Grandma [Name] to you,” you replied, adding a pointed finger jab in his direction. “But you can call me Madea.”

The friendship that blossomed between you and Aventurine was…unusual, to say the least. You quickly took a liking to him, although you never hesitated to remind him you didn't trust “no government types.” You even went as far as calling the IPC “that mess of bureaucratic backstabbers” whenever Aventurine would bring up his job. Yet, despite the tough talk, you always had a glint in your eye whenever he’d visit, bringing you little trinkets he’d won in his latest gambling scheme or updates on his work.

One day, you caught him staring off into the distance, his confident smile faded just slightly, his guard down for just a moment. Without warning, you gave him a light smack on the back of his head, making him jump.

“What was that for?” he asked, rubbing his head and glaring at you.

“Stop lookin' like a kicked puppy. You’re handsome, got a job, a snazzy suit, and them fancy-lookin’ eyes. Life ain’t all bad, honey.” you said with a smirk.

“Since when do you hand out compliments?” he asked, a hint of a genuine smile appearing.

“Since I realized you ain’t got nobody who does it for ya,” you replied, shrugging. “You work so hard, pullin’ strings, playin’ games, but who’s there for you when things go south?”

That got him. He paused, then looked away. “Life is a game, Madea,” he said softly. “You can only rely on yourself.”

“Well, that’s a load of nonsense if I ever heard it,” you said, crossing your arms. “You got me, sugar. You just don’t know it yet.”

One evening, while the two of you were hanging out (at his request—though he’d never admit it), Aventurine made the mistake of mentioning that he had a meeting with some shady IPC officials that he didn’t quite trust.

“Now, what kinda mess you gettin’ yourself into, huh?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“It’s business,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Oh, I don’t like that look you’re givin’ me,” you said, wagging a finger. “Now listen here, if any of them suit-wearin' snakes give you trouble, you come straight to me, you hear?”

He laughed, holding his hands up. “I think I can handle myself just fine. Besides, it’s not like you’d be able to get into an IPC boardroom in the first place.”

You shot him a wicked grin. “Is that a challenge, honey?”

And sure enough, when Aventurine arrived at his meeting the next day, he was shocked to see you already inside the room. You were sitting there, looking comfortable and casual, surrounded by people in stiff business attire, a sly smirk on your face as you glanced up at him.

“Hey there, sugar! Fancy seein’ you here!” you called out, loud enough to startle the room.

The officials looked between the two of you, clearly baffled. Aventurine, unable to suppress his laughter, leaned in and whispered, “You know, you’re absolutely insane.”

“Only insane thing is lettin’ you walk in here without backup. They don’t scare me,” you whispered back with a grin, “but they should be scared of me.”

Over time, you became a fixture in Aventurine's life, always popping up when he least expected it, giving him advice he didn’t think he needed, and occasionally pulling a prank or two on his IPC coworkers just to keep things interesting. And though Aventurine kept his usual, unbothered demeanor, he couldn’t deny it—having you around felt like having someone who actually cared.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you set down a plate of warm, homemade cookies in front of him. “A little somethin’ to lift your spirits, sugar.” you said.

Aventurine stared at the plate, then back at you. “I don’t…know what to say.”

“You don’t gotta say nothin’. Just eat. And remember—family ain’t about blood. Sometimes, it’s about who’s there to smack you upside the head when you’re actin’ a fool.”

A genuine smile broke through Aventurine’s usual smirk, and he picked up a cookie, savoring it. For once, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to play the game alone.

[bet-on-me-13]

Immortal Cop Danny P.2

Part 1

So, we have seen my scenario where Danny is revealed as an Immortal Cop really late in the Timeline, like nearly the entire Batfamily has already been formed kinds of late.

But what about a world where Danny has been on the Force since Batman Year 1?

Officer/Detective Nightingale has been one of the best and most loyal members of the GCPD for well over 3 decades. He didn't hide his "Meta Ability" when he first joined the force, since Gotham hadn't been introduced to all of their Superpowered Rouges yet, and the attitude for Metas in Gotham was nowhere near as harsh as it would be in the future.

He was one of the Go-To Cops in the early days of the Batman, since he had proven to be trustworthy and most people felt comfortable talking to him. Most of the community respected him, although some saw his power of Immortality as unnatural or freakish.

Batman met Officer Danny on one of his earliest cases. Danny pushed him out of the way of a Bullet and saved his life, getting shot in the process.

Bruce will never forget when Danny reached into the hole on his side and pulled the bullet out with his fingers. He didn't even flinch.

Danny has also been one of Commissioner Gordon's best friends and closest confidants for years. He was even offered the job of Commissioner once due to his extensive experience on the Force, but refused since he knew Gotham would never accept a Meta Commissioner, or maybe because he believed that he wasn't the right fit for the job.

Dick remembers the time when Officer Nightingale found out about Robin's age. He will always think of Danny laying into Bruce for bringing in such a young kid as one of his fondest memories.

Gordon remembers being invited to dinner with Danny's mom, a nice if cryptic lady dressed in gothic clothes who thanked him for all the work he did for the city, and for keeping her streets as safe as possible. Apparently she did the same for Batman, who had gone to Danny's apartment for some information and left with a full belly and plenty of leftovers.

He was basically the best Cop you could ask for. Calm, kind, honest, understanding, and he genuinely seemed to be trying to help the people around him.

Barbra calls him Uncle Danny, and he was there to help her adjust when she lost use of her legs.

Commissioner Gordon thinks of Danny as his best Cop/Friend, unflappable and loyal to a fault.

Bruce thinks of him as one of his more trusted allies, on the same level as Commissioner Gordon even.

Robin called him "Cool Cop D". Later, he was one of the reasons Dick decided to become a Police Officer.

Hell, even Damian commended the man's resolve to help the City, which was considered a monumental feat at the time.

Which is why it was such a shock when Danny disappeared.

He just didn't show up for work one day. This in and of itself wasn't too out of the ordinary, but he usually called in to tell them he was gonna miss a day. They thought it was just because he was so anxious lately, jumping at the little things like a guy bumping into him or asking to leave room at the mention of Autopsies

Then he missed the next day. Not that bad, I mean he had been really stressed out recently. Maybe he just needed an extra day, to work off the stress? Nobody was really worried anything had happened to him, he was immortal after all, but they were still concerned.

Then he missed a third day. This was far more concerning. The last time this happened, Danny had been found passed out in his apartment because he hadn't slept in days and hadn't eaten in weeks (what's the point if he won't die either way?).

He had been put on medical leave for a month after that.

So one of the guys decided to visit his house, just to see if he needed some help.

They find the apartment empty. No evidence that he ever lived there. It was like the entire place had been scrubbed clean of anything that even hinted at his existence, and whoever had done it obviously wanted to cover their tracks.

So, an investigation is launched.

And almost instantly, the Feds take the Case from the GCPD and declare Danny as dead a week later.

Seems they forgot to take a look at his Resume...

So Gordon takes this to Bats, who immediately starts investigating the Feds in White who showed up to steal the case.

...

Tag List:

@overtherose @kyrianclawraith @ghostreblogging @the-autistic-spider @just-rant-and-write-fic-idea

[queermatcha]

The sound of his frantic footsteps echoed from the walls, but all he heard was his own rapid heartbeat. Finally, he found the room he was looking for, yanked open the door and stumbled inside.

A doctor was standing in front of the hospital bed and looked up at him, frowning. "Who are you?" he asked. Buck didn't trust his own voice, but he still managed to choke out "I'm his boyfriend".

The frown on the doctor's face made Buck's heart sink. "Wait outside. I'm not done here yet." He raised his hands in a gesture trying to appease the physician. "But I just want-" The doctor frowned harder, still standing in front of the bed so Buck couldn't even get a glimpse of him. "Out! Or I will let you be escorted out of the hospital!" A moment later, Buck was back in the hallway again. Trying to fight back the tears, he leaned his forehead against the wall and cursed softly. "Buckley! I was wondering when you'd show - hey, are you okay?" Lucy was walking down the corridor and she stepped closer to Buck, placing a hand on his shoulder. Buck exhaled, frustrated, and quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "The doctor threw me out of the room before I could even take a look at him," he told her and Lucy gently squeezed his shoulder.

"What are you still doing here?" Buck then asked. Lucy shrugged. "I'm the one that pulled him out of that rubble. Nobody told me to leave, so I stayed. You want a drink?" She held out a can of Pepsi and Buck just grabbed it without even being thirsty, really. "He'll be fine. Your man's a fucking badass. And built like a damn brick wall, he's not one to be taken down that easily," Lucy said, nudging her shoulder against Buck's. Buck just turned around and leaned his back against the wall before opening the can and taking a sip.

"What happened?" he asked after a few seconds of silence. "There was a huge fire. Down in south LA. We were sent out to help and soon decided that we'd be more helpful down on the ground with the other firefighters than up in the air. Tommy went into one of the houses and it collapsed on top of him. He shielded a young woman with his body and saved her life. Fortunately, me and a few others were able to get them both out of there, but Tommy was injured. The medics said he has a concussion, a fractured shoulder and at least two broken ribs."

Buck bit down on his bottom lip. His chest felt too tight. Again, Lucy nudged him gently. "Hey. He'll be fine, I promise. He's a damn hero, your boyfriend." Buck nodded. "He definitely is," he said before taking another gulp of the cool Pepsi, trying to concentrate on the cold liquid running down his throat.

"So, now that I saved your man, I'll be getting an invitation to the wedding, right?" Lucy asked and Buck couldn't help but chuckle. He even felt himself blush a little, just at the thought of marrying Tommy one day. Maybe. Hopefully. "Of course you do," he answered. It was nice to have Lucy at his side right at this moment. She definitely helped him calm down a little. When Buck glanced at her, there was a big smile on her face and she looked quite pleased with herself. "Good," she said. "Because I think you guys are disgustingly adorable together." Buck blushed even harder. "Yeah?" he asked and she nodded without missing a beat. "Yeah. Tommy's never been this happy. You're definitely good for him," she said, making Buck's heart skip a beat. "He's good for me too," Buck answered and they smiled at each other. The expression on Lucy's face right at this moment was so different from the cocky, self-confident one Buck was so familiar with. Her eyes were warm and affectionate, soft even. "I'm really happy for you two," she said and Buck grabbed one of her hands to gently squeeze her fingers. "Thank you," he answered, touched by his friend's words.

Just a moment later, Buck and Lucy looked up when the door to Tommy's hospital room was opened and the doctor stepped out. "He's awake. You can go see him now," he just mumbled and walked away without any other word. "Wait, what-" Buck said, raising his hand to stop the doctor, but the man didn't even listen. "What is wrong with him," Buck mumbled. Lucy snorted. "Who cares. Come on, Tommy can tell us himself what's up," she said and grabbed Buck's hand to pull him into Tommy's room.

Tommy looked incredibly tired and also really high on pain meds. His blue eyes were glassy and he was incredibly pale, but there was a smile on his lips when Buck and Lucy entered the room. Within seconds, Buck was at his side, grabbing the hand Tommy was slowly lifting in his direction. "Hey, baby," Tommy said, voice raspy and strained, and within seconds, Buck was crying again. "Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked his boyfriend and gently pressed Tommy's hand to his chest, sitting down in a chair next to his bed. Lucy was standing at the foot of Tommy's bed, watching them with a smile on her lips.

"Very tired. And very drugged," Tommy said with a chuckle before his expression turned into a grimace. "Fuck. Laughing hurts," he then added and Buck leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "You'll be fine." Buck's voice was trembling and Tommy looked at him with a little frown on his face. "I'm sorry I made you worry." Tommy raised his hand from where it was resting against Buck's chest and really gently wiped a few tears off his face. His movements were a little erratic and his fingers trembling, but his touch was so gentle it made Buck's heart flutter in his chest.

"I'm just glad you're still with me," Buck answered and with a smile on his lips, he leaned more into Tommy's touch. "I will never leave your side, Evan." Tommy sounded so serious about this. Buck believed him.

"Oh, you definitely can't because I made Buckley promise to invite me to your wedding," Lucy suddenly said with a wide grin on her face. Tommy blinked a little and looked up at her, a little bit of confusion on his face as if he had already forgotten that Lucy was in the room as well. Then, he smiled, an expression so beautiful it was almost blinding and even though Tommy looked so exhausted and beat up, Buck couldn't help but think that he was the most gorgeous man in existence.

"You're so damn invited," Tommy said and he made Buck and Lucy chuckle with his words. His expression softened a little more. "Thank you, Donato. For saving my life." Lucy beamed at him. "You're very welcome, Kinard."

[ladytrist]

Marionetta: Thoughts on how Julia is doing

Just so we’re on the same page: Chapter 53 is the latest update in my country.

Based on Chapter 53, Julia claims that she found a purpose in the circus - being productive with a real job. And her friendship with Kamille is healing. However, I for once believe that she’s not near to being alright at all. I believe she’s just really DISTRACTING herself and is still in the heavy process of convincing herself that everything has already come to place that everything is alright, but I really don’t think it is. Besides Kamille, she needs someone in the circus that she can fully trust but I believe that Julia is still lost, confused, and scared - probably not like the first time she entered the circus but yeah she really needs someone wiser to confide to. And I just don’t think she can fully trust tonny yet.

Someone commented that Julia is being lied to and I 100% agree. I don’t think her letters to her father are actually being sent. Dotty is highly suspicious, the circus is her haven and she would do anything to protect it.

The reason why I’m really convinced that this is really just a calm before the storm is that Kamille is now the first one to be concerned about Julia’s contract. Julia shouldn’t put all her faith to tonny resolving everything

Julia honey, No.

Plus I think Julia still has a lot of things pent up after the stunt sahed pulled her into (unaliving tonny). I just think that tonny and especially dotty has julia on a tether. They’re focusing too much on Julia not to go scheming again while have they even considered her actually mental and emotional well being? I know Tonny had a talk with her about how he made a mistake not being there for julia enough but I still think that he needs to try and genuinely understand ehat Julia is feeling and what she is going through. If they just let Julia be on a leash nothing good is gonna happen.

Also I’m not saying that nobody in the circus has helped Julia in the past. Tonny is a kind person but he definitely could’ve done more for Julia. Before season 2, Julia was just practically running around in desperate for someone to help her. Everybody was just like “oh yeah you’re dead now but relax”, Julia really needed help but she was just overlooked. When someone is distraught, overlooking their issues would create twice the trouble for them. Julia got invloved with sahed because there was no one to guide her. Even kamilled dismissed what she was feeling. Julia didn’t want to be in the circus, Imagine what she felt. Of course people like dotty who sees the circus as their haven would think Julia is just overreacting.

Julia is still definitely not okay…have y’all seen the ending of chapter 53. Our girl was imagining home but it didn’t end well. My poor baby julia needs a hug.

Phew…sorry guys, I just see myself a lot in Julia.

[dchuntress]

a messy character analysis for helena bertinelli. this is my subjective opinion

huntress has been trained on with the mindset that most limitations are not real; it's only in your head, you're only as limited as you consider yourself to be. she may be right handed, but she has to be able to make do with her left hand if she must. crossbows are her specialty, but she knows how to use other weapons as well as fight without weapons at all. she may feel scared, but she has to believe that she can overcome, she can proceed, she can vanquish. because she must.

she cannot be confident of a single possibility, tool, or method, she must overcome the element of surprise and brace herself for multiple scenarios, whether it be through prior planning, constant analysis, and/or immediate improvisation.

this can extend to other things for her; her not really believing in letting her guard down or relying on other people because the rug under her feet can be pulled any time, usually children grow up with their family but that obviously was not the case for her. besides, she's been betrayed quite a few times too. dependency is an unnecessary weakness, added baggage. because she cannot believe that she can safely depend on other people; a trust of hers that has been broken due to both malicious intent and unfortunate circumstances that were nobody's fault.

but she is not over confident or pushing herself to unrealistic extremes; she's very aware of her status as a human being and what's beyond her control, so she's pragmatic and can adapt and adjust as the situation calls for it. she is very deliberate about the goals she sets and the principles she establishes for herself; nothing is a coincidence with her. this leads her to adopt a "the ends justify the means" mindset for her methods.

for example, in birds of prey (1999), she was very well aware that she'd never be able to truly defeat lady shiva in their fight if she just hit her normally and aimed for conventional victory, but helena did absolutely refuse to lose to shiva in any way. her focus was on enduring and being the last one standing, regardless of what happened to sandra.

and that reminds me of one of the core motivations for helena; in huntress: year one, we see that her tutor justina advises her something that sticks with helena forever; you must outlive them all. her tragedy starts because she outlived her family. yet ironically as a result, huntress is now always in survival mode, wanting to get the last word in and never lose her standing to anybody, to rather die on her feet than live on her feet, to continue outliving everybody than allowing them the opportunity, the thrill of eating her alive; she's the huntress, she'll never be the prey ever, ever, ever again.

it's a double edged sword, i think. she derives strength from what haunts her. she's haunted by the very things that keeps her going. she keeps on moving forward because she must hunt; to hunt down predators and strive for a better future. she keeps on moving forward because she cannot afford to go back, to be held back; because the past is when she was a prey. this is no way to live, let alone thrive; it's to survive. this is her legacy, she is the biggest testament of her strength, commitment, and resilience.

her problem is not that she's the huntress or helena bertinelli, i don't think, but rather, the fact that being either of those identities has punished her unnecessarily; traditional heroes wanting to "fix" (read: control) her because she won't play by your shitty rules, or her being born into a mafia family. even if her family never died, there was no guarantee that she was always going to live a happy and safe life, something that was very much made evident in huntress (1989).

is this a test from god? is she being punished for something? she doesn't know, she has to have faith in god.

she can't die, yet she can't live. she can't hope, yet she can't disbelieve.

i think? that's why being miss bertinelli is nice for her. she doesn't have to be in survival mode when she's teaching and dealing with kids. school provides her a structure, a routine, stability, and a sense of normalcy she absolutely lacks in other times of her life. little to no association with her second life as a vigilante. it's not a distraction that's like distracting helena from her problems like an unhealthy coping mechanism, but it's just an alternate way of her trying to make things better in gotham and helping children lead a better life — making sure they can see the light of the world she herself didn't get to; help raise the new generation to be capable of critical thinking, responsible, and self-dependent so they themselves can go on and help correct systematic issues in the society, take matters into their own hand when they don't get sufficient cooperation from the authorities - like what huntress is essentially doing.

[realian]

fuck it I know constantly complaining about the Silent Hill 2 remake makes it look like I'm just searching for things to complain about, but there really is so much wrong with the SH2 redesign even on its face. despite my vehement belief that Silent Hill 2 does not need a remake - what it needs is a digital rerelease and proper remaster (although the Silent Hill 2 Enhanced Edition takes care of 90% of that - the only thing needed is upscaled textures) I am willing to admit that for the most part, the new characters look Fine. I have issues with the cinematography and the way the designers clearly Do Not understand the artistry of the cinematography (see Exhibit A) but generally the character models look good. and I don't just mean graphically speaking - I mean if someone said "hey here's my interpretation of what the Silent Hill characters would look like in a more modern, realistic game style/based on different actors" I would say wow, yeah! that's pretty spot on! (though I do think James looks way too put-together and conventionally attractive, but it's not the worst redesign in the world.) and then there's Maria.

Maria is supposed to be a very unsettling character who is instantly in James' face about how much she wants to be with him. she's clingy and dramatic and as far as we (and James) know, it's for no apparent reason - I mean, she just met him, right? it's only in Born from a Wish that we get a more sympathetic look at her character and realize why she acts the way she does. that, holy shit, this isn't a monster, this is a literal person that was created by Silent Hill and who has nothing except the memory of James and that she loves him. that's it. it's supposed to come as a surprise and make us feel uncomfortable because her entire situation is fucked up. on the surface though, throughout the main game, she acts seductive, confident, and catty. she's not outwardly likeable. tons of people found her to be annoying and that's the response you're meant to have initially. because you don't know that under the surface she's a scared, lonely woman who doesn't want to die but has no way to truly live.

I could continue to talk about how the remake spoils her entire character because she comes across meek and frightened or how they took away her iconic tacky cheetah skirt and crop top and heavier makeup and replaced it with an extremely normal, not uncanny face, and put her in a decidedly more modest evening gown and leather jacket for some reason but I know I'm gonna just have people shouting that the game isn't even out yet so I should totally trust the people who wrote The Medium to write good female characters... nobody ever learns a thing. peace.

[coraniaid]

Kendra shows up for the first time in What's My Line? and delivers several speeches about her past and her training to (maybe!) one day become a Slayer that boil down to:

"I don't really remember my parents except as pictures I've been shown, but I do know [somehow?] that they took slaying really seriously and they sent me to be trained as a Potential Slayer when I was very young. I know that if you want to be a good Slayer it's important not to be distracted by things like boys or friends or school or family, and I really want to be a good Slayer. And I know that a Slayer has to work in secret, and she musn't tell anybody else about vampires or being a Slayer (but again, my parents -- yeah, the ones I'm not allowed to talk to -- they really knew I was a Potential Slayer and they definitely approved of me being raised by my Watcher and never seeing them again ... No, I don't know their last names). You shouldn't feel sorry for me, though: I definitely don't feel sad or angry about this at all. My Watcher -- he's pretty much the only person I'm allowed to talk to, I guess -- he says that emotions are a weakness. I am a good Slayer. I definitely don't feel sad at all."

If you take Kendra seriously as a character for even a second, I'm not sure how you can hear all that and not think that something suspicious is going on. I'm not saying the Council had Kendra abducted or had her parents killed -- it doesn't seem quite their style -- but ... if her parents or her extended family (her "people", as the show puts it) know about Slaying and take it very seriously, why would the Council want them to send their daughter somewhere away from them where she isn't allowed to talk to anybody apart from her Watcher about being a Slayer? Was she going to be "distracted" by being brought up by people who were definitely 100% in favour of her being a Slayer? What real evidence does Kendra have that her Watcher can be trusted about anything he tells her about her parents? Why does this sound like the internal monologue of a character in the first third of a horror novel who doesn't quite yet realize they've been raised by a cult?

And so, you might think, this is where Kendra's arc is going to go. Next season is, after all, all about Buffy losing confidence in her own Watcher and the system of Watchers in general. Maybe Kendra will start to suspect she's been lied to. Maybe she'll try to track down her parents. Maybe they've been looking for her all this time; maybe they died in an accident and the Council decided it would be simpler to train Kendra as a Slayer if she didn't have anything else in her life to "distract" her. Maybe this is another Ampata situation, and Kendra's family really did give her up, and when she has some space away from her Watcher to think about it she realizes she's pretty angry about that. Maybe she'll go through the Cruciamentum, and lose her powers for a bit, and ask herself what would have happened to her if she'd waited and trained and gotten older and never been Called as a Slayer at all.

But instead the show means all this to be taken entirely at face value. Everything Kendra says is just supposed to stand in contrast with Buffy's own experience of becoming a Slayer, even though you can't really just reverse "Buffy's parents don't know anything about Slaying" and "Buffy lives with her Mom and has to try to hide her patrolling activites from her" and "Buffy never knew anything about the supernatural or vampire slayers until she was told she was one" and "Buffy still tries to go to school and socialize and date and have as much of a normal life as she can" and "Buffy isn't always perfect at keeping her Slaying secret from the people in her life" and hope to create anything coherent.

The next time we see or hear about Kendra it's literally just for about fifteen minutes so she can be killed off and written out of the show forever. And then pretty much nobody ever talks about her again (except for a brief mention the episode after she dies and a final fleeting reference early the next season. And then in Season 7 we meet Kennedy, the only other Potential with any real screen time who the Council seem to have trained from a young age, who definitely does remember her family and tells Willow about growing up as a relatively normal (if slightly spoiled) child and doesn't seem to have gone through anything like this.

[brivinty]

Cupid, is so dumb. ★

Featuring; Megumi x Shy Reader (Female)

TW; Nothing really, kissing? Fluffy?

Summary; Nobody pays attention to her yet Megumi likes her, coincidentally she likes him too. What does he do?

-Oneshot ★

——

“Project!?” The 3 in the class asked confused. “A group project! 2 in each group!” Gojo said with his charming smile grinning at the teens. “But there’s only 3 of us here…?” Nobara said, giving Gojo a deadpan look, and Gojo raised a brow. “Y/n’s right over there…!” Gojo said, pouting a little disappointed that his most talkative students didn’t notice the quiet girl in the class. “She’s not a curse?!?” Itadori yelled in shock, making Gojo and Megumi give him a dumb look. “Clearly not, and she’s been here, guys,” Megumi says, making the two look at him. “Then why didn’t you talk to her?!” Nobara yelled, making him groan.

“Because god knows that if I get up from this seat and it’s not to use the bathroom, I’ll get dragged right back down,” Megumi says, making Itadori's sweat drop, feeling Megumis glare. But that wasn’t the reason, Megumi was just to scared to talk to you. “Why doesn't she talk to us?” Itadori asked. “Maybe we’re too loud?” Nobara said looking over at the girl. “Oh, y/n’s just like that, she usually wears noise-canceling headphones and just spaces out in that little notebook of hers,” Gojo says before waving a hand to the introvert and she looks up before removing an earbud. “Sorry Mr. Gojo, did I miss something…?” You asked quietly, making the man smile. Believe it or not, she's his favorite student. She's polite, and firm, and always buys him snacks.

“Not at all, we have a 2 person project, and you working with Megumi!” Gojo said proudly giving her a thumbs up as panic was evident on her face. “…can…can I just work by myself, like always?” She muttered with pleading eyes hoping for a yes to coming out of his mouth. “Nope! Sorry kiddo!” He said, and he was genuinely sorry, he knows you have anxiety. You sighed, before nodding your head and putting your headphones back in. ”And technically you would be considered lucky to get paired with her, she's real smart!” Gojo said, leaning onto his counter. “Then why would you pair two smart people together…” Nobara asked glaring at Gojo. “Because i don't want anyone using y/n, and megumi is the most trusted to not do that!” Gojo said with a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “Anyways! The project is research on old… uh?” Gojo scratched his head looking up from behind his blindfold. “Oh! The old history of jujutsu sorcerers! Nanami's idea! You could do a PowerPoint or just like a thing… get working!!” Gojo said before hopping onto his chair and going on his phone leaving the teens besides y/n in shock.

“Welp, good-luck to you two! I’m gonna go work with my partner!” Megumi said with a wide grin watching Itadori and Nobara panic. “Wait! Megumi! You can’t just leave us to struggle..!!” Itadori yelled, clutching onto the boy's uniform. “Actually..! I can, I refuse to go through another day with you guys yelling in my ear.” Megumi said, unlatching itadori’s hand from his shirt. Gojo laughed seeing Itadori start sobbing hysterically. He loved the idea of making Megumi and Y/n work together leaving the two slow ones to struggle. Now Megumi may look confident walking over to you, but in reality, he’s a mess, he doesn't even know how to start a conversation with you. He stared at you sitting while you looked out the window. ‘She's so gorgeous...’ Megumi thought, listening to you humming to the song you were listening to. Gojo was fangirling from the distance, glad his plan worked well.

Megumi took a deep breath walking up to you sitting in the seat in front of you facing your way. He waved at you before motioning you to take off your headphones. You quickly got the memo pausing the song then taking off the headphones completely wondering how in the world was he actually talking to you. “So, I'm your partner for the project.” Megumi said, taking his notebook out from his bag. “Oh! Uh.. so..so, what's the project about?” You asked, taking a pen from your bag and flipping your notebook to a fresh page. “I wasn't.. Uh, I wasn't listening…” “I usually just ask after class! But since we're working in-” You blabbed on starting to bounce your leg to shake off your nervousness. “No, it's fine, really, it's on The old history of Jujutsu Sorcerers.” Megumi said, rummaging through his bag for his laptop. “I was thinking we could do a presentation? If that's cool with uh, you?” Megumi asked, typing in his password, kind of freaking out on the inside wondering how he’s still holding up the conversation.

“Yea… Yea! Um, so… uh.. We could start the research now and… I could come to your room later and we could work some more…” You muttered so quietly he wondered if he even heard that last part clearly. “Sure, that's cool.’ Megumi said, trying to push back the red creeping onto his face. ‘That's cool..? He said it was cool?! I'm going to his room?!?’ You thought eyes frantically looking at your notebook, you took your pen heading the paper to distract yourself. You two worked for the rest of the class and surprisingly got along well, he almost broke you out of your shell completely.

—

You look for an outfit to put on, settling with pajamas just in case you fell asleep there. Then you realized maybe it was weird? So you put on a sweater and shorts. Then you changed your mind again, and again…. And again. Then you went back to your first option, Your pajama pants with a white t-shirt. You then grabbed your bag, putting your laptop, books, notebook, and pens inside. You then started walking towards his room giving yourself a pep talk. “You got this!” You whispered to yourself. “He said it was cool! So why would it be a problem now? There's no problem! I'm alright!” You whispered, kind of panicking, then you realized you made it to his room. You took a deep breath knocking on his door. “Uh, it's y/n!” You said quietly, but somehow he still heard it because he opened the door. “Hey, Come in.” He said opening the door for you letting you walk in.

You let out a breath of air, smiling at the aroma of the room. “Your room smells really nice, like strawberries.” You said before taking a seat next to him at his desk. “Thanks.” Megumi said while internally screaming in his head, he specifically sprayed a strawberry scented spray everywhere in your room because he noticed you would always wear this strawberry scented perfume. “So let's continue?” You asked with a smile, and Megumi almost screamed seeing your smile. It was like he was taken to heaven then brought back down to earth.

“Yeah, So I did some research actually, and this is what I have, so I think we just have to work on the presentation now?” Megumi asked, looking at you, as you looked intently at his work, he wanted to tuck that loose hair piece behind your ear and just kiss you all over your face, but he knew you would slap him, and maybe call him disgusting. He just knew. “This is good, I think it’ll work well.” You said looking up at him and he nodded before pulling his chair closer so you two could work on the presentation. You almost fainted at the action, he pulled himself closer to you?!” You two worked together on the presentation laughing as you two started to get more comfortable with each other.

——

“You should laugh more y’know that y/n? Your laugh is so gorgeous.” Megumi randomly said making you flush red, and he didn't even seem to register in what he said. “You think so?” You said just above a whisper, wondering if he heard you, and like always, he does. “I think everything about you is gorgeous, your eyes, your lips, your nose, your hair, everything.” Megumi said, making you blush madly. “Megumi…? Do you really mean that?” You asked turning your chair to face him completely. “Yea, I really do.” Megumi said, making you smile widely. “Y’know, i'm really glad you said that…?” You said looking at him, and you looked so giddy and happy. “Really?’ Megumi asked in shock, he said those things out of nowhere he didn't even realize he said it until after you asked if he meant it. “Yea… I actually like you..like, alot..” You said and Megumi turned to red, he looked like a tomato. “I.. I Really like you too.” He said and you smiled at him, you didn't even know you could smile that wide until today.

Megumi smiled at you before he looked at your lips, then back to your eyes. “Do you mind.. Me, kissing you?” Megumi asked and you giggled at him. “Maybe you should ask me out first?” You said with a smile before wrapping your hands around his neck. “Well, Y/n? Will you be my girlfriend?” Megumi whispered, wrapping his hands around your waist, as he stared into your eyes. “Of course I would…” You replied too lost in the moment to think of anything else to say after that. You felt him place his lips softly against yours and you hummed softly, kissing him back. You both then pulled away, but then you went in for another peck at his lips. “You enjoying yourself?” Megumi asked and you nodded your head.

“I’ve been waiting a while to do that.”

[moonliteve]

My headcanons for the deadly alliance before being recruited by Damashi

cw suicide mention

some of these r inspired by my friends' hcs ily cicada and leonarnd!!! <33

SHANG TSUNG

born in an impoverished village near the seaside

his mother had him at a pretty young age

she wasn't the best nor the most loving but she did care about him, she tried to be the best for him even though it was really difficult to do so on her own

mama shang had to teach him basic survival skills

however she committed suicide when he was around 16-17

shang wasn't left with much but in his late teenage years he had gained an interest in alchemy along with some biology

sold what he had to get his caravan, he knew he wouldn't be able to survive if he stayed in one place

at first he did try to plan out an honest living but he realized that he could just. cheat and lie? so he came up with the whole hack salesman thing

"a living? it is barely survival" so what if it doesn't work. so what if he kills a few people. as long as he's getting by

he stays in his caravan a lot and doesn't go outside unless he absolutely has to (eg to gather ingredients n stuff). the inside is a complete mess, it's not like he doesn't want to clean it he just doesn't see the point if everything is just going to revert to a mess once again

he does not care if he's gonna die tomorrow and doesn't care for any consequences

and of course he longs for more but in the conditions he's in right now? don't even think about it

until damashi steps in and offers him a chance

QUAN CHI

born in the mines to parents who didn't want him, was a complete accident

his father died in a mining accident shortly after he turned 5

grew up to resent the world since his mother almost didn't care at all and barely treated him like her son

started working w/ the rest of the miners around 13

autistic + really awkward + no confidence at all

barely interacted with anyone else, not like he wanted to anyways

always just went about doing his job everyday even though it fucking sucks

the others always thought he was an odd one since he almost never talks and just stares and observes a lot

resulted in him always being picked on and nobody really put a stop to it until it gets out of hand

outside of work he would rather spend his time alone

killed his mom when he was around 17. He thought about taking the easy way out and just bash her head in or smth at first but he didn't want to raise any suspicion since ppl knew about the mutual disdain him and his mother had for each other

eventually ended up poisoning her

that was when he first piqued damashi's interest, he doesn't approach him yet though as he wants to observe him more

around the same time he discovered he had an aptitude for magic and had been practicing it in his own time in secret, he couldn't do any crazy stuff yet though

possibly inherited from his father? maybe he was some kind of mage who was thrown into the mines because of some hard labor sentence

and liu kang let him keep this power as he wished for him to use it to aid the slave revolt

when he first heard about his fellow miners planning a revolt he didn't think much of it. he didn't want to have anything to do with them anyways

had he actually had a good relationship with the others he might've had considered helping, but as time passed he decided to snitch. not only to raise his station but also out of spite for how he was treated

late at night the same group of ppl tried to kill him a few days after he ratted them out, although he was strong and had a bit of magic to defend himself he was overpowered until damashi intervened and saved him

he made a complete mess out of the others, blood everywhere

it terrified quan chi at first. he had never seen such power before and he was almost certain he was next before damashi offered him his aid and power

he was hesitant to trust this stranger at first but having seen what he could do it was impossible to refuse

and that's how the alliance came to be :) tysm for reading!

[ppeasants]

i feel like i haven't really brought up Willow in my Time Hollow AU that often, and I've been thinking about it more recently. She's such an interesting character to explore.

In my head, she just feels like she slots in really well, as a friend to both Luz and Hunter before they got trapped in Belos' mind, and that carrying over to being a close friend to both of them, once they were free just felt natural. and I guess with how right it felt there wasn't really a need to elaborate on why they might be close.

But thinking about it, that 'natural connection' to both of them, might be exactly why Willow is such an interesting character in this AU.

Compared to everyone else, it feels like nobody really has a good connection to both Luz and Hunter, at least early on.

Amity is obviously extremely close to Luz, but she doesn't have any reason to like Hunter - the only emotion that isn't inherently negative, like anger or mistrust or hatred, is pity. And after they escape, she turns those emotions into care and worry for Luz, and mistrust and fear for Hunter, with how close the two have gotten.

Darius is very close to Hunter, and he cares deeply for him, especially after ASIAS, but he doesn't really know Luz, other than whatever rumours he would've heard around the castle, or from Raine. And that translates to after Hollow Mind, as well. Almost all of his care and worry is directed at Hunter, and his concern for Luz is only up to the point where he isn't an asshole and hopes she's okay, as well as glad that Hunter has someone to turn to.

The other coven heads feel pretty similarly. Eberwolf cares mostly for Hunter, and while Raine is closer to Luz through Eda, they were purposefully keeping themselves isolated from Eda, so they aren't as close to Luz and they want to be, aside from caring about Luz's connection to Eda.

Gus does know Hunter from ASIAS, and is more willing to trust him, but he's not close like Willow is. He probably hears from her about him, and doesn't hate him, but he still can't fully trust him. And Luz is one his his best friends. Compared to that, it's very hard for him to trust Hunter. (at least at first)

Even Eda, who quickly comes to care for Hunter like one of her own, isn't like that at first. Her parental instincts take over pretty fast, but until they do, and until she recognizes it, she's mostly just worried over Luz and King, and their safety with a new houseguest she can't really trust yet.

But Willow is different.

Sure, Luz is also one of her best friends, and she's only known Hunter for a weeks - she knows he's dangerous, and untrustworthy - but she can't help but care for him too. They're been messaging more and more, and they've gotten pretty close. And she knows that she's probably one of Hunter's only friends. And her sense of duty, of captainship, means she can't abandon him.

But that doesn't mean she can abandon Luz. Luz is the person who gave her back her confidence, her joy in magic, and her life. She paved the way for her joint the plant track, to play grudgby, and later flyer derby. But most of all, she was her friend, when no one else but Gus would be.

So when she heard that both of then were trapped in Belos' mind, she was immensely scared for both of them.

Not like the coven heads, who were mostly worried for Hunter. Not like Gus and Eda, who were scared for Luz. Not like Amity, who was wondering if Hunter would've hurt Luz. She was hoping they were both okay.

And that's what brings her even closer to both of them, right away. She cares for both of them, and when she sees how traumatized both of them are, she vows to make sure they're both okay.

And that's where it gets really interesting.

Because the coven heads are making sure that Hunter is okay. And while they're glad he had Luz, they're still concerned with how close the two have gotten. Amity and Gus, in the same way, want to make sure Luz is okay.

Darius especially wants to be there for Hunter, but when he sees how close he is with Luz, he gets especially concerned about what happened, and why they're so close.

Amity, too, wonders how Luz has gotten so close with Hunter. Concerned about what happened in there to get them close. Jealous about how close they are.

But Willow can't bring herself to care about all that. She's just glad they're alive, and now she's focusing on how she can be there for them. And that's why she's able to connect to them so well. She cares for both of them so much, and she just wants to see them be okay.

And that's why it's so interesting.

She gets closer to them than anyone else, faster than anyone else. The coven heads are worried about how close she gets with Hunter. Gus worries about her even getting close with the Golden Guard. Amity is jealous of how much Luz accepts her into their circle with Hunter.

And all those conflicting emotions creates a lot of interesting dynamics between everyone.

All because Willow cares about both of them.

(eventually, as time passes, the coven heads start to care about Luz. Gus finds another best friend in Hunter. Eda adopts yet another kid. even Amity can't deny how close they are)

But for now, it's Willow. All because she's herself.

And that's why it's so interesting.

Because almost everything else changes. But Willow stays the same.