#but you would be angry too if your husband continuously cheated on you

[starweed]

explaining what’s going on in this painting;

first off, the storm cloud with the face in it (right above io’s nose) is the roman god jupiter (god of the sky and thunder, king of the gods). the woman the storm cloud is holding onto is io (i-oh), she’s the daughter of the river god inachus as well as a priestess of juno (juno was a goddess of time whose job was to organize the monthly menstrual cycle since that was the first method of time keeping. she was one of the three original gods of rome (minerva and jupiter being the other two), she was married to her brother, jupiter, and she had two children (vulcan and mars). she was involved in women’s lives from birth to death and all things in between, and she was a badass).

io was a beautiful woman, and like most beautiful people of ancient rome she caught the attention of the king of the gods himself, jupiter.

io was sitting on the edge of a river, minding her own business, when jupiter decided that he must have her as a lover immediately. jupiter descended from the heavens to make io his lover, but knowing his wife would be suspicious of his sudden departure he covered the area in dark storm clouds and transformed io into a calf.

juno, rightly suspicious of her husband, went to investigate. she didn’t find her husband in the throes of pleasure with another woman, but rather sitting on the bank of a river with a calf. this didn’t dispel her suspicion because she knew her husband to be more than capable of turning a mortal into a cow. so, juno asked for the cow as a gift, presumably so that even if the cow was another of her husband’s lovers he wouldn’t be able to anything with them.

juno didn’t want to murder her husband’s lover, for she was likely their matron in one way or another, but she also didn’t want them to get back to her husband’s clutches. so she sent for her servant argus, who had a hundred eyes that never closed all at the same time. and for some time juno’s plan worked, argus watched over the cow that was io and jupiter was not able to take her as a lover.

that was until jupiter devised a plan. he would send his son, mercury (the god of commerce and financial gain, as well as poetry, thieving, trickery, and travelers), to bore argus into a full sleep and retrieve io. mercury told argus many tales until every last eye was closed, and when argus was finally asleep he took io from her pasture and fled.

juno soon got word that mercury had stolen the cow on orders from jupiter, and soon sent a vicious gadfly to torment io (who was free, but still a cow). io was completely done with the whole situation, as the only thing she had done was lay on the bank of the river. jupiter saw io’s misery and recognized that it was his fault. he begged his wife to leave io alone, vowing to never pursue her again. with that, both curses were lifted from io.

with that io decided that rome was not the place for her, so she packed up her things and made her way to egypt. she later married an egyptian king and never had to deal with jupiter ever again.

the end

so, that’s the story of io. she got a happy ending that is so rare for the people that catch the attention of jupiter. all because she was wise enough to get the hell out of dodge when the opportunity presented itself.

lmk if there are any other myths you want me to explain. most of my knowledge is in the greek and roman mythos, but i’m always looking to expand my knowledge.

also lmk if there are any glaring inaccuracies! i’m not infallible and would like to know if i get anything wrong.

Jupiter and Io (c. 1530) by Correggio.

[heegyukeluv]

M.O.R.E. - my only ruined escape (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: Trapped in a broken marriage, you felt bound by everything you had invested in it, unable to walk away despite the cracks. But when Heeseung, unexpectedly striking up a friendship with your dick husband, entered the picture, things began to shift in ways you never saw coming.

my's note: i don't condone cheating. and this fic can be triggering for many, so read the warnings with care, please!

warnings: toxic relationship/marriage, fight/arguments, mentions of blood and wounds (due to the fight lol), y/n's husband is an ass but he doesn't attacks her physically, verbal abuse, y/n is constantly degraded by her husband, angst (with happy ending!!), pet names (mostly darling), cheating (yn cheats her husband with hee), SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), oral (f. receiving), fingering, squirting, lowkey angry sex. lmk if i missed something!

wc: 26,6k.

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @tinycatharsis

“Fuck ass food.”

Heeseung was peacefully eating his lunch at the small company’s break room; the other two spare tables were already occupied when he first stepped in, later than his usual schedule as he always managed to choose a less crowded hour to take his break peacefully.

The situation led him to sit with a random guy that apparently just entered the room as well, since he had his lunch box closed for quite a long time, while typing on his phone, laughing.

They both exchanged a few words as in “Can I sit here?” and a comfortable “Yeah” in response; but as soon as the guy spoke again, his curious eyes followed towards his food and then, arched a brow

“What's up, man?”

Heeseung attempted a friendly approach, but the man seemed inclined to complain other than talk. And although Heeseung was the type who preferred silence over small talk during meals, especially with strangers, he felt compelled to interact, given that they were the only two at the table.

The downside of arriving late or during peak hours: having to deal with people sharing – and invading – your space.

The man took a deep, exhausted sigh, his pursed lips indicating he was mad, his clenched jaw only adding to it, and the way he tilted his head quickly to the side before starting to speak got Heeseung regretting his decision of asking about it.

“My wife. She's just too... Useless?” The man blurted out, shrugging as if the statement held universal and undeniable truth.

He gave a brief unreadable gaze to Heeseung, that definitely didn’t spark not even an ounce of interest in him – actually, he quietly prepared himself for the following words, restraining an eye-roll that was teetering to escape. 

“Can't cook, can't keep the house clean, can't do shit,” he continued, his tone dripping with gross disdain. “And the good thing she had on her, she lost through the years.”

Heeseung kept his skeptical and slightly confused expression weighing his features, eyes darting towards the said “ass” food as he took a bite of his; it looked delicious and the smell was amazing. If the guy kept on crying over it, he would definitely suggest changing plates.

“Yeah?” Heeseung replied flatly, his voice carefully measured to express his disinterest.

He didn’t buy a word of the man’s complaints but held back the urge to ask why he had married this supposedly intolerable woman in the first place.

“Yeah,” he agreed and then leaned closer, now chewing a piece of meat with an exaggerated disgust. “You know, she was a hottie back then,” he muttered, a repulsive smirk creeping onto his face. Heeseung swallowed his will to punch that idiot in the face, his jaw clenching involuntarily. He wasn’t enjoying a glimmer of that conversation.

The man’s face contorted as if he was reminiscent about his wife in the past. “Fuck, she was hot. Best pussy I've ever had. Thought I could marry her and screw my stress away, you know?” The man’s head shook in mock disappointment. “But now? She barely gives me anything. Always some excuse. Lazy as hell.”

Heeseung’s stomach churned as the man's nauseating words thickly filled the air. He tried to focus on his own food, avoiding engaging any bit on that topic, but that casual, sickening misogyny was an appetite killer.

“You get me, right?” the man said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Your wife probably takes care of you, huh? Keeps you satisfied?”

The playful shove to Heeseung’s shoulder nearly pushed him over the edge. Holding back a retort – or worse, a punch – he forced his expression into something resembling composure.

“Oh, I’m not married,” Heeseung finally said, his voice tight, sharp and precise, a clear indicator that he didn’t want to be bothered anymore, not by that fuck ass guy.

The man laughed, shaking his head. “Well, lucky you then.”

That was Heeseung's first interaction with your husband. At the time, he couldn't have cared less about your relationship, he was indifferent, barely bothering to acknowledge it. His only genuine hope was that you would eventually escape from the grip of that asshole and find yourself with a real man who actually deserved you.

That was his stance – until the moment he saw you.

It was the company’s party reception or something similar, he didn’t care much to give a proper definition, not when you walked into the room, radiant in a sleek, black dress that hugged your figure perfectly. The way your smile lit up your face as you greeted everyone made the entire place seem to pause for a beat. Your lips, painted in a bold cherry red, glistened in the soft lighting, and your eyes – oh, your eyes – shone like stars in the night sky, captivating anyone who dared to meet your gaze.

You were beautiful in a way that left him breathless. 

And then, as if in slow motion, his gaze shifted to the man standing beside you. Your husband. The one he eventually – and unwillingly – learned the name: Brendon.

The words that escaped his lips were little more than a breathless mutter, “Are you fucking joking?”

His grip on the glass tightened, fingers curling around it with an intensity born from pure frustration and anger. This was the woman? The one your husband had described as plain, unremarkable, not even remotely sensual?

This goddess, standing there like an oasis mirage? Like something unreachable, untouchable, immaculate? 

He couldn’t understand it, no, definitely not. A woman like you dating – no, worse married to – a douchebag that didn’t give you what you needed, what you deserved.

He didn’t believe in fate, but the way things had unfolded, Heeseung was starting to wonder if the universe had conspired to bring him there, to that exact moment. After all, there was no other way he would have ever crossed paths with you.

Witnessing your existence, so alluring, so captivating, had flickered a spark in his mind, like a quiet revelation that simmered until he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Heeseung made it his mission to make you his.

It was a dangerous game, even reckless, his friends would try to stop it even before turning the idea into real words.

By then, he had gathered just enough to know the basics – your husband was a waste of space, and you, without a doubt, deserved something far better. 

He didn’t know how you felt about the way you were treated, nor how deeply you were tied to that toxic relationship, but he knew he had to take the chance, to shoot his shot. 

With that resolve, and after draining his glass in a single gulp, his eyes never leaving yours, Heeseung moved towards you both with quiet confidence, every step sure and deliberate.

“Hey, Brendon!”

Heeseung noticed the way your beautiful eyes gently settled on his, briefly wandering over his body before returning to meet his gaze once again. Your cheeks flushed – at least, he noticed a faint blush that didn’t seem to be the result of your flawless makeup.

He smiled warmly, shaking Brendon’s hand, who made sure to release his own from yours to greet Heeseung properly, pulling him into a half hug.

The first thing Heeseung would change in this dynamic: he would never let you go for something as a brief touch, left alone to greet some random acquaintance. And if he did, he would be quick to pull you back into his arms and show you off.

“Heeseung! Good to see you, man.”

The pat on the back felt a little too friendly, a little too close for Heeseung’s liking, but if he had to go through hell just to get closer to you, the goddess, he would endure it.

“This party’s kind of weird. So far, I’ve only seen strange people, but it’s nice to have some familiar faces.”

Heeseung forced a laugh as they pulled away, trying not to let the intensity of his gaze linger on you too much – he couldn’t be too obvious.

“Yeah…” He replied, trying to keep the conversation going, but honestly, he had no interest in Brendon – not that he could admit it out loud, especially since Brendon was probably the biggest obstacle in trying to do anything directly with you.

But when you responded to your husband with a shy smile, linking your arm with his, Heeseung couldn’t hide the wave of relief that washed over him. And your voice... It was beautiful.

“Stop it, babe. They weren’t weird, they were just being nice.”

“Yeah. For you, it’s always just kindness,” he rolled his eyes, not even bothering to reciprocate the affection by properly linking his arm with yours as he took a sip from his drink. “See, Heeseung? Women and their sensitivities. Be careful when you get married, man. Choose wisely, don’t pick the sensitive ones.”

The wave of nausea that hit Heeseung was enough for him to not even try to hide his discomfort. Brendon spilled all that nonsense like it was easy to say such atrocious things, ending it with a sleazy laugh that only added to the ridiculous image he was creating of himself.

Heeseung couldn’t deny that it was impressive how quickly Brendon could spew so much garbage, as if his mind was actively working to spread blind hatred towards anyone who didn’t fit into his corrupted morality.

“And this is...?”

Before any awkward silence began to settle in, and after Heeseung noticed that Brendon hadn’t made even the slightest effort to acknowledge the stunning wife standing by his side, he took the cue and swiftly redirected the conversation towards his primary target: you.

“Ah, Y/N. Apologies for not introducing myself earlier.”

You smiled warmly, extending your hand for a handshake, but the touch was brief, fleeting – only for Brendon to possessively wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer to him.

Heeseung barely restrained the urge to roll his eyes – so this was the type of man who treated his wife like trash, yet couldn’t stand anyone giving her attention?

“You always forget your manners at home, don’t you, honey?” Brendon tried to make a joke, one that only he seemed to find amusing as he laughed solitarily.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

Heeseung didn’t bother mentioning that the few times he and Brendon had ever spoken, you had been one of the main topics – yet none of those discussions had been about praising or cherishing you as you deserved. Instead, it was always something demeaning, as if your worth were only worth degrading. 

Heeseung noticed that you seemed like you wanted to say something, almost as if you were about to murmur a “me too,” but all that came out was a forced, distant smile – almost sad, withdrawn. Your once radiant and seemingly communicative aura slowly and painfully faded away. You swallowed the words that dared to leave your mouth, and it left a bitter taste in Heeseung’s mouth to see that, but he swallowed it as well, choosing to remain polite – at least for now.

And you, indeed, were holding yourself back. Brendon didn’t like it when you greeted other people, especially men. He used to tell you that they were all filthy, that they would seduce you and take you to their rooms to fuck you, and you, as the good slut you were, would give in to their charms.

Part of you wished that were true, because if you at least had good sex with your husband, it could serve as a reason to stay firmly and resistant to his attempts – and success – of being an ass, but even that he couldn’t give you.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you murmured, more to avoid a potential fight in the future than to actually inform anyone. You could feel the tears threatening to fall, burning like fire in your eyes.

There were moments when you questioned what was still keeping you there. You had read countless reports and books – hidden, because Brendon didn’t like you becoming too informed – about women in relationships that you later recognized as abusive. They were designed to destroy a woman's self-esteem and take out the light of happiness that once burned so brightly.

You saw yourself in each of those stories in different ways, because Brendon had never dared to physically harm you. His game was personal, psychological, like controlling the finances and part of your daily routines.

He even went as far as threatening to install cameras around your apartment to make sure you weren’t cheating on him or breaking any of his ridiculous rules when he was out of the house.

Thankfully, you managed to hold on to your decision to keep working, something you cherished deeply. The flower shop that took up most of your time was a sanctuary, a place where you could momentarily forget that you had a husband of questionable character.

It was undeniable that the thought of divorce had crossed your mind countless times. Building a routine of minimal care for him, based on his absurd demands, also fed the feeling of permanence. You had to stay because you had to take care of him. Who would make his lunch boxes or wash his underwear?

It was a trivial thing, and maybe you used it to cover up your true desire – to run away, to escape from a relationship that, at one point, in a distant and fantastical past, had been full of promises that sounded genuine, of eternal love and affectionate care.

Everything was perfect during the first six months, until he realized that the sex he had once craved every day had lost its appeal, even though you kept trying to innovate, to please him. Brendon was never satisfied with you, judged every little part of your life as though that became his greatest pleasure.

Sharing a home with you was more of an obligation than a choice, and for a long time, you felt guilty.

He attempted to make it up with you, to buy you gifts and lead you to cute dates. It worked in the first year. And the second as well – the transient hopeless feeling of fixing him, of growing over it, of getting used to it… You tried everything.

To exhaust yourself in order to take every effort in the books to save your marriage from failure was in vain, your husband himself was making sure that your deep, sincere love turned into hate.

Heeseung was torn between feeling relieved that you had walked away and utterly frustrated that you had to.

He didn’t truly know you yet –  not enough to form solid judgments about whether your character was as vile as your husband’s. However, the brief moments he shared with you were more than enough to convince him that you didn’t deserve even a fraction of the treatment Brendon gave you.

But if he wanted his plan to succeed, he needed to win Brendon’s trust first.

“So, man, how’s it going?” Heeseung forced himself to sound as friendly and approachable as possible, his expression carefully crafted to radiate genuine interest in how Brendon’s life had been lately.

“Oh, you know. Tons of work, annoying clients, a couple of coworkers who... I don’t know, just seem like they couldn’t care less about their jobs. The usual.”

The internal battle Heeseung was fighting was so intense he had to physically restrain himself from throwing the punch he had been saving for Brendon since day one. The man hadn’t said anything outrageous – yet –, but the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, was enough to taunt Heeseung the wrong way.

Still, he forced himself to stay in character.

“Ah, that sounds rough. Sorry to hear you’ve been under so much stress.”

With a subtle pat on Brendon’s shoulder and words laced with faux sympathy, Heeseung could tell he had earned another fragment of his trust.

“Thanks for understanding, man. When I try to talk about this stuff with my wife, she just goes insane, you know? Says all I do is complain, and that nothing’s ever good enough…”

Heeseung nodded, carefully calibrating his expression so nothing but fake empathy would slip through. Inwardly, he wholeheartedly agreed with you – so much that he had to work hard to keep composure, leaving to Brendon the mission of filling up the awkward silence. 

“And how am I supposed to not complain when she can’t do anything right?” Brendon huffed, shrugging dramatically and exhaling like a childish tantrum.

Heeseung’s self-control was tested to its limits. He wanted to roll his eyes so badly but instead kept his mouth shut, grabbing a drink from a passing waiter to occupy his hands, not uttering a word.

“No one at work does anything right, but then I think, well, at least I can go home and unwind with my hot wife. And then I get home, and it’s all wrong there, too.”

This time, Heeseung couldn’t stop himself. The words slipped out before he could think better of them, sipping on his drink right after, eyes locked onto Brendon’s angry expression.

“Have you ever thought about getting a divorce?”

Brendon turned to him, wide-eyed, as if Heeseung had just suggested something unthinkable, as if he was a lunatic.

“What? Divorce? Are you out of your mind, man?!” And then he laughed, a hollow, grating sound. “She’s the love of my life.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Heeseung forced a small chuckle, drifting his eyes to his drink as he sipped once more. Yeah, definitely a lot of alcohol to help him go through this job of hell. “You two look like a lovely couple, my bad for suggesting that shit,” Heeseung nearly choked out that horrible sentence, cringing hard before the idea of complimenting anything in that piece of thrash.

“Nah. You’re good.”

Little by little, Heeseung managed to earn Brendon's trust. He started conversations about their few shared interests, sometimes even pretending to know more about topics he wasn’t particularly invested in, all to build a solid foundation for their blossoming “friendship”.

Heeseung had one clear goal: to keep you out of their conversations. He knew Brendon would likely take the opportunity to list every supposed flaw you had.

The more time Heeseung spent with Brendon, the more he realized he was a spoiled man who expected the world to revolve around his desires. It was almost comical and pathetic to hear him brag about his so-called glory days in college, where he claimed to have broken countless hearts as if it were some sort of accomplishment.

Through these interactions, Heeseung learned more about you – or at least about how you and Brendon had met and fallen in love.

Back then, you were calm, the kind of girl few would approach because they thought you were plain, boring, bland – Brendon's words. Apparently it was forbidden to use flattering ones even while describing how he fell in love with you. He decided to ask you out because, despite everything, you were pretty. And hot.

Of course, Brendon’s interest in you started with your looks and the supposedly mind-blowing sex you offered – almost as if you were some kind of goddess in bed – those were Brendon’s words again.

As Heeseung listened to Brendon recount this “love story,” he had to fight the urge to let his thoughts slip into words that would be anything but kind. He also worked hard to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to reveal his growing disdain.

The “love of Brendon’s life” wasn’t someone he cherished – it was a possession, a fantasy. He married you to maintain his hold on you, to keep other men away, because the thought of someone else touching you drove him insane.

The absurdity of it all nearly made Heeseung sick. Brendon couldn’t speak about you without a complaint to follow, without reducing your beauty to objectification, or without expressing his so-called “love” through a thinly veiled frustration rooted in his own insecurities.

But amidst the storm of Brendon’s toxic words, like a single ray of sunlight on a cloudy day, Heeseung now had reasons to visit your home regularly.

You were rarely home when he came by. On weekends, you worked at the flower shop, with your days off falling on Mondays and Tuesdays instead of Saturdays and Sundays. Brendon didn’t seem to care, often commenting that at least your “annoying voice” wouldn’t disturb his peace.

Yet, Heeseung found himself wishing he could see you more often. After enduring so much time and effort to break through Brendon’s defenses, earning a significant amount of his trust, it was disheartening to not see the person who made it all worthwhile.

“Y/N should be home early from work today. Let’s enjoy the peace while we can,” Brendon said offhandedly.

Heeseung’s ears perked up at the news.

It was the fourth weekend in a row that Heeseung had ditched plans with his friends to hang out with Brendon. Their gaming sessions weren’t the worst – most of the conversation revolved around the games themselves, sparing Heeseung from Brendon’s typical misogyny. But still, spending time with someone so consumed by complaints and negativity was exhausting.

The thought of finally seeing you again, however, was enough to rekindle his energy. Heeseung glanced at the time on his wristwatch, silently hoping your shift at the flower shop would end sooner rather than later; his heart was already racing at the thought of finally seeing you.

He cared little if you looked like a tired, married woman after a long day of work. You would still be beautiful, as always, with your charming smile that would likely grace your lips, your radiant gaze – maybe even surprised to find him there, sprawled on the couch playing video games with your husband. 

Heeseung just hoped you wouldn't misunderstand, that you wouldn't think he was anything like your husband. The fleeting idea of being seen under thar judgment was enough to make him slightly desperate to prove he was different.

When the door swung open, revealing a female figure entering, greeted by the dim light of the living room, Heeseung froze. Like, literally, his fingers froze on the controller, and his eyes locked on you.

You were wearing the most adorable light denim overalls, with embroidered mushrooms on the front. The black shirt contrasted perfectly with the light tone of your overalls and matched your black Converse sneakers perfectly. You looked beautiful.

“Yo, we're gonna lose, man!” Brendon shoved his shoulder into Heeseung’s to snap his focus back to the game.

“Sorry,” Heeseung murmured quietly, turning his gaze back to the light of the TV screen, though occasionally taking a moment to admire you as you slipped off your shoes and hung your purse by the door. “Need help?” He asked you directly, almost standing up from the couch when he finally noticed the two heavy bags of groceries you were carrying.

Brendon rolled his eyes and shoved Heeseung back onto the couch, not even giving you the chance to accept or decline the offer.

“Ignore her, focus here.”

Heeseung shot Brendon a skeptical look, which luckily he didn’t catch as his eyes were glued to the screen again. Heeseung gave you one more glance, a silent apology in which you gently shook your head and smiled warmly, whispering. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

Heeseung could see the frustration in your tired eyes, although you attempted to keep as nonchalant as possible, as if you were used to your husband's futility. He watched how you vanished into the back of the house, most probably the kitchen to organize the items you had bought. 

Somehow, Heeseung wasn’t interested in gaming anymore, not when you were just a few steps away and he could properly greet you. He stalled a little, just not to be too obvious with his intentions, before getting up and saying.

“I’m gonna grab something in the kitchen.”

And of course, the spoiled asshole would ask for something as well.

“Yeah, yeah. Grab me a beer.”

“Alright.”

Heeseung didn’t deny it; he had learned a few areas of the house already. After all, on the few occasions when Brendon didn’t say a single word about whether you were home or not, he’d claim he was going to the bathroom, when in reality, he was sneaking around, hoping naively he might catch a glimpse of you somewhere, gracing his eyes with your gorgeous presence.

The kitchen was the most obvious place his feet knew the way to by heart. It was the spot where guests were welcomed, where Brendon would offer drinks like whiskey and cold beer – which, apart from you and the PS5, were the only decent things that house had to offer.

So Heeseung made his way there slowly, feigning casualness, though internally preparing himself for a direct interaction with you. Since the very first day, he hadn’t had a single chance to speak to you alone, so he had to make the most of every second to begin showing you that he was a good man, and that if you wanted, and allowed him to, he could show you just how good he could be – in every sense of the word.

He heard a faint hum and the soft sound of things shifting around, indicating that you were still busy organizing the kitchen as he approached the room. He lowered his voice as much as possible to announce his presence, not wanting to startle you.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Even so, you jumped slightly and turned towards him, flashing wide eyes that expressed your surprise.

You didn’t expect no one to come into the kitchen, let alone your husband or his friend, but you couldn’t deny that you were a bit happy that he did so.

Despite befriending your husband, Heeseung seemed to be a nice guy. You had little to no information about him, since Brendon barely told you about his day or his overall routine during the brief moments you two were together; he would rather choose to mistreat you and complain about your mistakes instead of sharing the perks of his work day.

“Yeah! I’m sure,” you managed to answer back in a breath, ignoring Heeseung’s presence for a bit as you reached for some of the groceries packages scattered all over the counter, to place them perfectly into the cabinets. 

Heeseung’s eyes followed the motion of your skilled body handling everything a bit too well, as if you were used to chores overwork.

Heeseung felt a tingling urge to help, to be useful, to ease your stress. It was something he would do effortlessly, if he was the one married to you. In fact, if it were up to him, you would just sit there being beautiful while he took care of everything, because you deserved to be treated like a queen.

Brendon had complained countless times about all the things you did – for him, obviously, in the form of grumbling.

How you were “cringe” for making little love notes and putting them in his lunch box, how you made the bed so he could sleep, but never chose the most comfortable duvet, how you “tried” to cook his favorite meal but never got the seasoning right.

Heeseung once casually suggested swapping lunches, and when he finally had the chance to try your cooking, the urge to punch Brendon grew immensely, because it was all so good.

Brendon didn’t appreciate the little things you did. He saw them as annoyances, predictably bad, and yet they were the exact actions that made Heeseung realize just how special you were.

He was struck by how deeply you cared for someone who didn’t seem to understand, or even acknowledge, your efforts. It only made Heeseung more determined.

“So… You work at a flower shop, right?” 

Once again, you startled with Heeseung’s gentle voice suddenly echoing in the kitchen, pulling you out of your concentration state. You were crouched while organizing the groceries, and he was standing up, drinking ridiculously slowly a glass of water.

“Yes, I do.” You answered politely, but not quite giving Heeseung any recognizable attention.

“Do you like it?”

His question caught you off guard. First, because you weren’t used to people asking about your interests, especially when it came to your “boring” work. Secondly, because there was a sincerity in his voice, a curiosity that felt different from the usual respectful small talk.

You paused for a moment before straightening your legs, calmly turning on your heels to completely face Heeseung with a slight flabbergasted expression. 

The moment your eyes laid on his tall figure casually leaning on the wall, your breath got caught in your throat – was he watching you this whole time?

His bright and lightly inquisitive eyes were grazed on you, busying his lips with small sips of water and a hint of a tender smile, waiting for your reply. Your heart skipped a beat, a soft, thrilling tremor that vibrated through your body without leaving you to have any control over it as your hands started to tremble. 

“I do, yeah.” You pondered for a while, searching for the words that would match your genuine opinion over your job; unconsciously a sincere smile began to form on the corner of your lips and Heeseung took a close, quiet note to it. “It’s… It’s calm and peaceful. Fulfilling in a way, even when it’s exhausting. I feel I can be myself easily and… Avoid some– other stress. For a bit, at least.”

Heeseung’s chest warmed with the way you spoke, a delicate radiance of soothing heat sweeping as your softly and lovingly voice talked about something you liked. He wished to see more of this persona, more of this part of you; the apparently authentic, happy version that expressed affection through your every pore.

However, he couldn’t help the sting that came along, knowing what “other stress” you were talking about. He also hoped to help you escape out of that. 

“That’s good to know,” he nodded tenderly, keeping his tone layered with honesty and kindness. Your eyelids blinked slowly as you watched Heeseung approach, silently placing the glass on the countertop that separated you both. “I’m glad to see you being passionate about what you do and enjoying your life, Y/N. At least… Part of it.”

He had carefully constructed his sentence before speaking, wanting to ease you into the conversation with the most comforting approach he could offer. At the same time, he dared to let slip a part of his disguise, hoping you would pick up on the subtle hint about him being aware of the difficult reality of your marriage, particularly your situation.

Your eyes showed that you were slightly taken aback by his words. You were shrewd enough to catch the underlying message of what he had said, even though it was somewhat confusing to understand his exact intentions. 

Still, you gave him a shy but pleasant smile, touched by his gentle and thoughtful words.

“Thank you,” you would’ve ended there, but something unknown prompted you to add more, a sudden need to speak your truth. “I do what I can with what I have.”

It sounded too sad, too realistic. Your eyes fell to your hands resting on the cold countertop as you spoke, nonetheless, it was your reality, after all: making do with what you had. You had learned the hardest way to survive on the scraps life gave you, to accept the little, or sometimes, nothing at all. It had become routine, normal – your life for the last three years.

Heeseung caught the opening you had unwittingly – or perhaps purposefully – left for him and gently took the lead on the topic, offering his personal opinion as he noticed your guard had lowered at least a little.

“It shouldn’t be like this, Y/N.”

A part of him feared he had crossed a line, violated your boundaries, or even frightened you. If any of that had happened, he couldn’t think of a way to backpedal and ease into a gentler, slower approach. But he was surprised when you, equally startled by your own reaction, replied.

“But it’s been this way.”

The sigh that followed expressed your exhaustion – an exhaustion you usually tried to ignore, otherwise it would send you down a path you didn’t feel capable of walking alone. “This is how he makes it to be.”

The indirect mention of Brendon shocked Heeseung even further, though it also brought a strange sense of relief. He hadn’t expected you to open up so quickly, still he wouldn’t take it for granted and chose to continue to walk carefully.

It was as if the plan he had set in motion had been laid out by divine hands, providing him with every tool necessary to reach his ultimate goal.

“It doesn’t have to be… You know that, right?”

You were taken aback when Heeseung’s warm, gentle hand covered one of yours, making you flinch slightly but didn’t pull away. The touch was soft, innocent, and comforting. It offered you just enough weightlessness to let your words flow with more ease, your heart feeling lighter within each passing second.

You wished for that moment to last a bit more. 

“Maybe I know, but… it’s so hard.”

Heeseung nodded softly, his gentle eyes tracing the lines of your face contorted with an expression of sadness and frustration, still avoiding his gaze. It was clear that you no longer wanted to live in this marriage, to be stuck with a jerk like Brendon. But something was holding you back. Or perhaps, you just hadn’t found anything – or anyone – that could truly pull you out of it.

Heeseung gently removed his hand from atop yours, sliding it beneath to hold it with care. “How can I help you?”

But before either of you could react, the sound of Brendon entering the kitchen shattered the tender moment that had been unfolding between you. His presence filled the room with that grotesque energy only he could bring.

“Why are you taking so long, man?”

Brendon’s voice cut sharply through the air, breaking the fragile moment. Your immediate jolt of surprise made you stumble backward, accidentally knocking over the sugar packet on the edge of the countertop with your elbow as you pulled your hand away from Heeseung’s, sending the white grains scattering across the floor. Brendon’s exasperated voice filled the air instantly.

“Messing everything up as always. Jesus Christ,” Brendon snapped, tone dripping with disdain. The sharpness of it seemed to pierce through the quiet warmth you had shared, and the shift in the atmosphere was palpable.

Heeseung stiffened where he stood, his jaw clenched, knowing it wasn’t the right time or place to confront Brendon, but a part of him wanted to.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–” You began, your voice tinged with guilt. 

“You never mean to do anything,” he interrupted and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Go grab something to clean this up. And while you’re at it, buy another packet. Use your money this time since you’re the one who made the fucking mess.”

Heeseung stood on the corner, static, feet rooted to the ground, because if he slipped the built self-control out, he would be the one making fucking messes. His eyes darted from Brendon’s to you a brief second, acknowledging that you seemed to be blaming yourself for such a normal accident.

For a fleeting moment, when your eyes met Heeseung’s, what you saw wasn’t pity, it was fury. Not at you, but for you.

His gaze burned holes into Brendon’s side profile, the muscle in his jaw flexing visibly. If Brendon pushed just a little harder, it was clear that Heeseung’s restraint might shatter entirely. His fists curled tighter at his sides, as though physically grounding himself in order to maintain the calmness. 

He wouldn’t admit out loud, not now, but the thought of you being involved in a possible fight was the primary thing holding him back. He didn’t want you to witness how bad and intensely he would make your husband taste his own blood – alongside that, the fantasy of making Brendon clean the floor with his own tongue was tempting and so hard not to give it a listen.

“And why the hell are you taking so long?” Brendon now turned to Heeseung, still holding an arrogant demeanor. “Bet this bitch didn’t leave cold beer for us, and she was probably making up some excuse for it, right?”

The venom in his words made Heeseung’s stomach twist, as well as his hands that clenched harder. His brows knitted together as he tried to process the sheer audacity of Brendon’s determination to make you feel worse. It was as if his entire worldview was built on finding fault in you, as though your very existence was an inconvenience to him.

“Actually, I–” Heeseung started, his tone low and dangerously even.

“Yeah, that’s right.” You quickly interrupted, your shaky voice expressing how affected and fearful you were. You moved to the fridge and grabbed two cans of beer to offer Heeseung. “I’m sorry. Here.”

Heeseung froze, his gaze softening as he took in your unreadable face. He was confused by your reaction and decision, the realization you were trying to defuse the situation, even at your own expense, made his body heat to increase in pure, raw anger towards Brendon.

The kitchen felt suffocatingly small as Heeseung reached out to take the cans from your trembling hands. His fingers brushed against yours ever so slightly, a light, evanescent touch, that still created a visceral jolt that seemed to resonate between you both.

“Thanks,” he murmured softly, his voice barely audible.

Your hands fell back to your sides awkwardly, but the faint lingering warmth of his touch sent a wave of unfamiliar sensation through your body. You shivered slightly; it had been so long since you’d felt this – a connection, something near to a meaningful acknowledgment of your presence as more than just an object of blame.

Brendon’s loud sigh and mutters about something random shattered whatever serenity the moment would unfold deeper. Heeseung’s grip on the beer cans tightened as he fought the growing urge to speak – or worse, act.

For now, he let the silence swallow his frustration, though his eyes remained locked on you, silently promising that this wasn’t the end.

Heeseung felt like he needed to offer you a kind of safe space, an environment where you would feel comfortable enough to begin opening up completely. 

The encounter in the kitchen was successful, until Brendon stepped in and broke the possibilities away. Ever since, he tried to change his plans of meeting Brendon during moments where you could be with him as well.

Heeseung’s whole plan was... Peculiar. He didn’t just aim to get you out of that toxic relationship, offering you the necessary support to help you leave. He primarily wanted to show you just how deserving you were of wonderful things, and that he wanted to be the one to provide some of that happiness.

It was a decision that might have been premature, with a high chance of leading to a dangerous and frustrating path. Even though Heeseung would use all of his tricks, you could still choose to stay. But he couldn’t control the erratic beating of his heart at the mere thought of having you for himself, nor could he ignore the ache in his chest of you opting not to let go, which demonstrated the intertwining of his emotions with this entire situation.

Heeseung was now seated at the dining table with you and your husband, chewing on the carefully prepared meal he had prepared for that “dinner among friends.”

You looked breathtaking, as always. And Brendon? Spewing casual misogyny and ignorance, as always.

The dinner had been Heeseung’s idea, under the pretense of repaying the countless times he had dropped by your house, consuming snacks and drinks without contributing. It was, on the surface, a friendly gesture. But the real reason behind it was far less innocent, and Heeseung knew you were perceptive enough to catch on.

It was so glaringly obvious what Heeseung’s true intentions were that he tried his best not to make them even more apparent with every glance exchanged between you and him. Fortunately, or perhaps out of sheer ignorance, Brendon was far too naive to notice the way you subtly reacted to Heeseung’s laughter – some of it genuine, some of it forced – as you leaned ever so slightly forward, drawn to his presence.

Heeseung was acutely aware, though. He noticed everything about you – every glance, every small smile.

Ever since Heeseung had started showing up during times when you were also home, the kitchen had become your unspoken sanctuary for a sweet connection. He didn’t force or coax you to speak your soul, rather he would give you a cozy place where you got to share fragments of your personal life amid discussions about nothing in particular – Heeseung treasured them all.

He etched those details into his memory as if they were sacred scriptures, intending to one day prove to you just how deeply he cared – and would keep caring, if you said yes. 

Now, as Brendon lounged lazily at the dining table, and you, standing at the sink, rinsed your plate and Brendon’s, you tried to ignore the flush on your cheeks when Heeseung moved to casually stand beside you while keeping the talk with your husband about soccer or something you didn’t care about.

Heeseung leaned casually against the sink counter, the glass of whiskey in his hand catching the warm light of his kitchen as he took a slow sip. You could feel the weight of his presence, far, but still close, somehow calming and charged with unspoken intention.

“Hey, man,” Brendon broke the rhythm of the conversation suddenly, standing up. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Heeseung didn’t miss a beat, suppressing a grin because he had planned that all along – to give enough non-alcoholic drinks to Brendon in order to make him leave for a few in the bathroom, getting at least some minutes alone with you.

With an easy, unaffected demeanor, he answered. “End of the hallway,” and raised his glass slightly to point. “First door on the left.”

Brendon nodded, his movements sluggish, and then casted a half-hearted glance your way.

“Don’t break anything while I’m gone,” he muttered, his tone an awkward attempt at humor.

You felt the corner of your mouth twitch into an usual forced smirk, the one you struggled to maintain as a way to faux express your contentment with his terrible jokes.

Brendon disappeared down the hallway, oblivious to Heeseung’s piercing gaze following as he did so. 

The silence left behind was thick, buzzing with the tension of your now uninterrupted proximity with Heeseung, causing a sensation that got your body wincing without anything happening yet. 

“So,” Heeseung began, his voice low and unhurried. He set his glass down on the counter, the faint clink of it meeting the surface echoing in the quiet room. His eyes found yours quickly, holding a weight that made your breath hitch slightly; he took a sweet notice of your blushing cheeks. 

“So,” you echoed softly, your heart raced in anticipation of whatever was about to unfold, dodging the pull of Heeseung’s intense, yet soft, stare to concentrate back on doing the dishes. 

“How was the dinner?”

Your shy smile grew before the tender question as you finished cleaning, silently asking for a hand drying cloth. Heeseung extended you one immediately, dreamy glistening eyes trailing carefully your every move with quiet devotion. He had his attention precisely torn in between the sound of Brendon coming back and you, the prettiest, kindest and most wonderful woman he ever saw.

“It was amazing,” you complimented with sincerity, resting the back of your hips on the edge of the counter top, glancing up through your eyelashes to meet Heeseung’s affectionate, smoldering gaze. “You did amazing.”

Heeseung chuckled softly, the sound low and subtle, like a sweet melody meant only for your ears. He shifted his weight forward, his movements deliberate as he positioned himself directly in front of you. His hands rested casually on either side of your body, palms flat against the countertop, effectively caging you in a way that was both daring and exhilarating.

“Can’t compare to yours, but yeah, I tried my best.”

His voice was velvety, laced with a casual teasing warmth that sent a shiver down your spine, as if you were close friends.

Your breath hitched, shallow and uneven, betraying the steady facade you tried to maintain. The rapid rhythm of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, a dissonant tum-tum that matched the electricity crackling in the small space between you.

The proximity between you two felt suffocating in the most thrilling way; his attractive face was so close that you could see the flecks of lust in his deep, big brown eyes. He gazed at you with a tenderness that made your heart stutter, his head tilting slightly as if studying your every micro-expression.

Without realizing it, your hands moved of their own accord, awkwardly, yet hesitantly, until they found a place on Heeseung’s broad shoulders. The texture of his shirt beneath your fingertips grounded you, though the hesitant touch exposed your inner turmoil. Still, the simple gesture was enough to make Heeseung’s composure falter.

He hadn’t expected you to respond so involuntarily open.

“He’ll be back soon...” You whispered, the words barely audible as your lashes fluttered shut for a moment. The nearness of Heeseung, the intoxicating scent of his cologne mingling with his natural warmth, made it impossible to focus on anything else. When, exactly, had Heeseung become your greatest temptation?

You weren’t blind to how he treated you. The way his gaze lingered, a mix of genuine affection and burning desire that ignited something dormant within you. It was undeniable the way he affected you, the way your thoughts would drift to him during the quiet, lonely hours of your life.

You fought against those thoughts with every fiber of your being, reminding yourself of the vows you once made. Yet, Heeseung’s constant presence made that fight infinitely harder, as if he hoped for you to drop everything you once promised, as though he taunted your self-control to its limits in order to make you discover fresh and tempting possibilities alongside him.

He was willing to make you wander a path you never quite give a thought to venture yourself into. 

Heeseung leaned in, his voice dropping an octave, soft and husky, almost a caress against your fuzzed soul.

“I know how much he stresses you out, darling...” The endearment slipped from his lips effortlessly, and you clutched his shirt as though it were the only thing keeping you sane. “Let me take that stress away.”

His hooded eyes wandered over your face, not hurriedly but with a reverence that felt almost sacred, as if he were memorizing every line, every curve. The intensity of his gaze sent your heart racing again, his careful inspection leaving no part of you unseen.

Heeseung deeply saw you, and you started to treasure that. 

The dryness in your throat was swallowed with difficulties, as if the saliva production had purposefully decreased only to make you wet your lips, an action that served to draw Heeseung’s attention to that area.

His gaze, dropping to something darker, held longer than he hoped for, but damn, you were so attractive, with your perfectly kissable lips inches from his, with your pretty eyes deliberately expressing your surrender to his charms.

He had to dig self-control in order not to kiss you right there, his own body wavering knowing he wouldn’t stop on just a brief make out moment; he yearned the urge of taking you as a whole, pleasuring you, worshipping you, giving you what you deserved. 

“He’s a good husband,” you forced out, the words tasting weird, unconvincing as they left your mouth; it was a failed coping mechanism not to break in light of the awareness of how disastrous your marriage had become, one you got used to repeating to yourself over the years.

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, his expression softening as he absorbed your words. Your lazy eyes caught the small smirk dancing on his lips, a dry chuckle following just before he murmured with devastating precision.

“Does he fuck you good?”

Heeseung’s previous advances had slowly chipped away at your defenses, now the question landed like a wrecking ball in a crumbling wall – strong, direct, and final, the checkmate that shattered everything your morals once held. 

Your body responded before your mind could, a pulsing ache coiling in your core, leaving you clenching around nothing in a crescent despair that burned your skin. The audacity of his words stunned you, but the way they ignited something deep within left you reeling, dizzy.

Your husband had never aroused you with such ease, and with one simple question, Heeseung had rendered you breathless, nearly falling on your knees.

You met his gaze, your lips parted, however not a single word had strength enough to follow the deep breath you let out. The room seemed to shrink as you took in the intensity of Heeseung’s eyes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

His boldness hung in the thick air, while your principles dangerously split between clinging to the lie you told yourself every day and surrendering to the temptation Heeseung presented so beautifully.

“He provides the house–”

“But does he make you feel good, Y/N?”

He ignored your second attempt of forcing a narrative that both of you knew was just a facade, his inquisitive inspection and daring eyes never leaving yours, pushing you through the edge to fall onto his trap. 

The more he pressed you, the more you felt tempted to give in, almost like an addiction to something you had never experienced before, a painful yearning for the thrilling rush that coursed through your veins in delicious anguish with the thought of... trying.  

You feared that you might enjoy it too much if you gave in to whatever Heeseung was willing to offer.  

“He does, he makes me feel happy…”

“No, he doesn’t, Y/N. We both know that.” He cut you off again, though his voice remained calm and low.  

Heeseung was completely guided by the unconscious voice of his instincts that took control of his actions. He still remembered to respect you, to maintain a safe space, not to cross your boundaries, and, most importantly, not to push you beyond what you could handle. But it was so hard not to give in entirely to your complicit charms.  

You didn’t seem to notice, but your hands were pulling his body closer, your eyes triangulating between his brown irises and his cherry-colored lips, almost like a silent invitation to kiss him. You also had tilted your head slightly to the side, relieving your bare neck in a subtle request for Heeseung to explore that sensitive area.

You presented yourself in such a surrendered way, so open, so... reckless for someone who was working so hard to maintain unnecessary morality. 

Cheating wasn’t beautiful; neither of you believed in that. But why was cheating on your husband with Heeseung so ridiculously tempting?

“He doesn’t deserve you, darling…” Heeseung replied, unaware that this was your biggest inner doubt, daring to approach the prickled flesh of your neck.

The tip of his nose brushed slowly, painfully close, without giving you what you secretly craved, while his hot breath caressed your tingling skin like a deliberate, gentle whisper of a quiet promise. You fluttered your eyes close, the grip on Heeseung’s shirt tightening as he continued. 

“I can help you with that... Just give me the word.”

“Heeseung–”

Your desperate, breathy moan was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. No, you didn’t hear them, but Heeseung was more than aware of Brendon’s return, taking on the job of carefully paying attention to it from the very beginning. 

“Think about it, darling. I can relieve your stress.”

It was the last thing he whispered in your ear before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling away to instantly resume his casual, friendly demeanor.  

“Did I take too long?”

Brendon’s voice wasn’t enough to break your trance. You felt your body weak and incredibly light, your flustered face showing a slight confusion and disbelief, with a subtle mix of wanting. 

Heeseung glanced at you with a mild smile for a brief moment before wrapping an arm around Brendon’s shoulders to guide him into the living room, murmuring a hollow response, followed by some lame excuse about showing him something, in order to give you time to recompose yourself. 

After a few minutes in a daze, you found yourself heading to the bathroom, because the interaction with Heeseung hadn’t just left a mark on your chest. No. Your panties were ruined, and you prayed you could hide it from Brendon for the rest of the night.

You had to hide your chaotic emotions for the rest of the following weeks, not just that night.

Brendon was completely unaware of the vast storm of thoughts racing through your mind as you did your household chores, which made it easier to ignore his misogynistic taunts and repulsive complaints throughout the day.

The memory of Heeseung’s soft lips brushing against your neck left an undeniable mark, and from time to time, you found yourself absentmindedly tracing the spot with your fingertips, almost as if you could still feel the warmth of his touch melting into your skin.

It was confusing to be in the position you were in, married on the paper to a jerk with the possibility of going after someone who apparently cared about you.

Sharing the same space with Heeseung had become increasingly difficult. You even started shifting your work schedule, taking days off when you knew he wouldn’t be able to come to your house, even though his visits had become less frequent.

You couldn’t quite figure out what had happened, but it seemed that Brendon and Heeseung had an argument after clashing over something trivial. It was as if Heeseung was finally showing his true colors, shedding the persona he had carefully crafted to get closer to your husband and eventually you, now that he had made his move in the invisible game of chess the two of you had been playing.

Besides your work, Brendon couldn’t control your friendships as well and luckily you had a supportful network that held you with warmth when the stress became overwhelming.

Countless times, your friends tried to show you that Brendon didn’t deserve even a fraction of the incredible woman you were, but as always, you had a well-rehearsed response that failed to mask the disrespect you had to endure with him.

Over time, your friends stopped trying to force you to see what you already knew was true, and in response, you made sure not to bring home issues into your work.

But that time, however, it was impossible to stay silent. Your face clearly showed discomfort and anxiety, but there was also a special sparkle in your eyes that piqued Yunjin’s curiosity.

“What’s got you so deep in thought on such a beautiful day, my lovely Y/N?”

You snuggled into the back hug she gave you, chuckling softly at the way she addressed you, a clear sign that she wouldn’t let up until you answered.

Yunjin was your closest friend, the one who always made sure to check on you and your relationship, occasionally threatening to drag you out of your house by force – but you always shot back, claiming it would probably make things worse.

She also knew about your recent sudden desire to escape, to distance yourself from everything that reminded you of Brendon – something completely new in your shared world, based on past experiences. You always found some lame excuse to cover up such thoughts, rarely letting them slip, and suddenly things had changed; in recent days, you had left numerous hints that something completely different and new was unfolding.

A sigh escaped your lips, followed by your quiet reply. “If I tell you, you might not believe it.”

Yunjin adorably rested her chin on your shoulder, trying to look you in the eyes.

“Humor me, then.”

You bit your lower lip, moving your head to the opposite side so you could hide how your cheeks flushed before you muttered.

“I want to cheat on my husband.”

The small stockroom fell into a deafening silence as the words left your lips, words that had been corroding your mind for days, perhaps even weeks. Saying it out loud felt like giving your desire a tangible form, pulling it from the realm of unreachable fantasy into the tempting, possible reality.

It was a simple statement, yet it unleashed a storm of emotions in your chest and stomach, as if all the anxiety you had been harboring, trying to gather the courage to reach this conclusion, came crashing back in a wave that hit you like a brick wall.

Yunjin’s lack of immediate reaction only made the air feel heavier, stealing the very breath from your lungs. You could sense the tension in her body behind you, but your mind, too clouded by the fear of judgment, twisted it into something entirely different from what she truly felt.

“Don’t judge me, plea–” “Who with?”

Your head snapped to the side, stunned, as you searched your friend’s face. What you found wasn’t judgment or disgust but a spark of curiosity and, oddly enough, pride glimmering in her eyes, as though she had been waiting her whole life for you to say something this bold.

“What?”

Yunjin loosened her back hug only to turn you around to face her, taking both of your hands in hers, which had been awkwardly dangling at your sides.

“Alright, so you’re going to cheat on your husband.” She gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze. “With who?”

Her enthusiasm was impossible to miss, and it stirred something strangely exhilarating in you, like a mischievous excitement, as if you were about to hatch a secret plan doomed to fail, yet thrilling precisely because of the forbidden nature of it all.

At the same time, you couldn’t fully process her reaction. Tilting your head slightly, you frowned, skepticism evident on your face.

“What do you mean you're not calling me crazy or immoral? Shouldn’t you be scolding me, telling me I should divorce him instead of choosing to cheat?”

Yunjin let out a soft sigh, a subtle and kind exhale, as a small smile danced on her lightly pink-tinted lips.

“Y/N, my princess... After everything you’ve been through, seeing you reach a point where you’re ready to break free from that awful man, even if it’s not in the ‘right’ way, makes me happy and proud. So, I don’t care if you start this journey with an affair or a murder–”

“I'm not murdering anyone!” You quickly cut her off, widened eyes shooting a warning glance. 

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes playfully, the corner of her lips twitching within a smirk. “Either way, I’ll support and help you, because I know that getting rid of that piece of trash will bring you as much peace and joy as it will bring me.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong, but there was one critical detail she didn’t know yet, one that sent a thrill through you just imagining saying it aloud. For the first time, you realized you could actually put yourself first.

“I’m not cheating on Brendon to get revenge,” you said, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’m cheating on Brendon because Heeseung is hot, and I deserve better.”

Your trembling fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, each pounding beat of your heart showing how nervous you were as you stood in front of that door.

It had been a few days since your talk with Yunjin – days made even more painful and exhausting by your husband’s behavior. He had been nothing but a spoiled, petulant child as usual, a true pain in the ass with his petty, insufferable attitude. It felt as though he was deliberately testing your limits, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, waiting for the moment you would snap.

It was always the same game. He would provoke you until you reached your breaking point, only to paint himself as the victim once you finally exploded. He had done it before, twisting the narrative to label you as the irrational, overly sensitive one, incapable of handling even the smallest criticism. Of course, his idea of “small criticism” was laughably detached from the reality of his hurtful words and actions.

The truth was undeniable: your relationship had long since turned cold, deprived of warmth in every sense of the word. The affection that once tied you together had dissolved after the first year of marriage, slipping away like water into a vast, unyielding ocean of discontent and sorrow.

Over time, you grew used to the scraps, and eventually, to nothing at all. You convinced yourself to accept whatever he offered, clinging to the hollow promise you had made – to love each other no matter the circumstances. But deep down, you knew that love had died a long time ago. You just hadn’t found the courage to bury it.

“Fuck you, Brendon. Go to hell!”

Those were your penultimate words before storming out of the house you once shared, grabbing only the essentials – your keys, your phone, and your bag. The last thing you said when he demanded to know where you were going was a truth laced with a hidden lie, where, in fact, you answered him correctly, only omitting the true intention behind your trip.

“Somewhere far away from you.”

That’s how you ended up here, standing in front of a plain white door that now served as the only barrier between you and the reckless choice you were about to make.

Summoning a fleeting jolt of courage, you raised your hand and pressed the doorbell. The moment the sound echoed, your stomach dropped and the weight of what you were doing crashed down on you like a wave. There was no turning back now.

The sound of a key turning in the lock made your breath hitch. Each passing millisecond felt like an eternity, your uneven breathing exposing the anxiety surging through your body.

You had rehearsed a dozen speeches on your way here – carefully thought-out words that would explain everything, rationalize your decision, maybe even give it some dignity. But the second the door opened and his familiar face came into view, every carefully crafted sentence vanished.

All that remained were the raw, desperate words that spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“I wanna relieve my stress, Heeseung.”

Without noticing, your eyes fluttered closed when you blurted out, as if you couldn’t bear to see Heeseung’s reaction to it, extremely embarrassed of how you voiced your inner desire. However, his silence was more than enough to make you hesitantly reopen then, expecting anything but the scenery that blessed your sight, making your throat close and the simple action of breathing extremely hard. 

Heeseung stood there, freshly out of the shower after arriving from a very exhausting day at work. Clearly not expecting company, he had thrown on only a comfortable pair of sweatpants that hung low on his waist, the waistband of his underwear peeking out teasingly. 

His exposed torso was graced with droplets of water that danced slowly through its extension, his mild tanned and flustered skin serving as a beautiful background canvas, giving you a private show you hadn’t requested, yet you were beyond thrilled to witness.

At first, Heeseung was very confused with furrowed brows and lost soft doe eyes scanning you as if trying to resolve a riddle. But then, realization hit in an instant when he pieced the puzzle: you, stress relief, clearly nervous at his door…

“Oh?”

The single word failed to snap you out of your shameless admiration. 

Heeseung had an attractive physique, you already knew it. Tall figure, broad shoulders, waist slightly thinner than his hips, effortlessly strong arms; covered in his usual casual suit he was normally the culprit behind your small, careless mistakes, like burning your finger or miscutting a vegetable because your mind wandered a bit too far.

Now it felt like having access to forbidden footage, something you weren’t supposed to see, although you wanted to. Your gaze had been trailing every inch of his exposed form as if you were reading your favorite book, lingering longer on the defined V-line near to where he was covered, almost like daring you to look lower. 

You almost didn’t notice how he shifted on his feet, body language switching instantly to match your dark eyes devouring his flesh deliberately.

Heeseung took a step closer and leaned on the door frame, his head dropping forward just to try to search for your hungry eyes, the fragrance of his shampoo permeating your senses like a flood.

“So you want my help?”

The question came quiet, yet sultry as ever, and acted as a stronger trigger to pull you out of your daze bubble completely, only now noticing how close he was.

Your cheeks exposed your mortification at being caught, though you didn’t actually want to hide your need and desire – it was more like a moral shame, knowing that as soon as you allowed Heeseung to cross a specific line, there was no turning back.

With your fingers clutching your purse's handle firmly, you bravely nodded, tracking your eyes up and seeing the movement of Heeseung cocking his head to the side, as well as the curve of his lips turning into a smirk.

“Yes, I–I want your help.”

Hearing your consent replaced Heeseung’s mild doubt by an urge to take action, as if your words ignited something darker, deeper, that reflected each nuance of it on his drooping eyes. Something you hadn't seen in years, because the only gaze your husband managed to flash you was the usual disgusted, angry, disappointed one; something tempting, and unafraid, you took the bait.

“Come in, darling.”

Your trembling legs somehow managed to follow Heeseung's lead. He had made the subtle decision to brush his hand lightly against your waist as he guided you to his bedroom, your gaze unfocused barely paying attention to the decor of his apartment.

The only things your mind could fully grasp were the warmth of his fleeting touch on your lower back, the soft, dim light that bathed the cozy interior of his space, and that the outcome that interaction would lead to was implicitly obvious.

It felt oddly familiar, like when you lost your virginity – the weight of the forbidden, the eagerness to start and explore mingled with the fear of disappointment and regret, the realization that there was no turning back and things would change afterward.

It was a confusing, insecure mixture of emotions that left you dizzy, especially since you had always followed the vows of your marriage, promising to cherish, respect, and remain loyal to your partner.

But it was hard to hold onto that promise when you were the only one making an effort. It felt like an empty promise, broken, shattered, where only your side remained intact.

“What happened?”

Your thoughts were so intense and overwhelming that you didn't even realize Heeseung had ushered you to sit at the edge of his soft bed, while he pulled the chair from the pair in the corner of the room and brought it closer to you, sitting directly in front of you.

You raised your sad, lost gaze to Heeseung, finding in his eyes an offer of care and attention. There was an underlying lust simmering beneath the surface, threatening to take over, but he was determined to stay composed, ensuring your consent came first.

Heeseung communicated with you without words, a connection so deep it made your heart race, as if the two of you could read each other effortlessly. A small, shaky sigh escaped your parted lips as your fingers fidgeted with your bag, seeking grounding in something tangible, something solid amidst the chaos in your mind.

You were about to cheat. Not just your husband but the promise you had made, once sacred. It felt like madness.

“You know I’m here, right?” Heeseung’s reassuring voice pulled you out of the whirlwind of your thoughts, anchoring you to the present. And with that, you nodded and began.

“He's been... strange.”

Your eyes avoided Heeseung’s curious gaze as he leaned forward at first, close enough to rest his elbows on his knees while enveloping your hands in his warm, comforting grasp. He gave you a gentle squeeze, encouraging you to continue. You shivered and gathered strength to keep going.

“We’ve been fighting a lot lately, and it feels like… If I was already not enough before, now I’m even worse.”

"You were never ‘not enough,’ Y/N,” Heeseung interjected gently but firmly. You darted your eyes briefly towards him and he was frowning a bit. 

“I know, it’s just…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, holding back tears you didn’t want your husband to deserve. “He’s always put me in this place, and I think I started going there on my own. Like, I’m the incapable one, the one who screws everything up, the one who lost her sex appeal and can’t please him anymore...”

Heeseung listened intently, his thumb softly brushing over the back of your hand like a silent reassurance that he was there for you. It was a comfort unlike anything you had felt in a long time.

“And lately... I think he’s–” You hesitated, your gaze unfocused as it landed on a random spot on the chair behind Heeseung. “He’s been coming home late from work, and honestly, I’m relieved to some extent...” A humorless laugh escaped you. “But with the things he’s been saying, like how he could find something better elsewhere, how I’m dispensable… It’s hard not to think he’s...” You took a trembling breath, the tears you had been holding back falling slowly. “...That he’s cheating on me.”

You weren’t crying in full sobs or breaking down entirely. They were quiet tears of realization, a painful acceptance that everything you had worked to keep standing had already crumbled long ago, now waiting to be buried by you; tears of relief, knowing, somehow, you tried your very best. 

Heeseung waited a few moments before raising your hands, still enveloped by his, to place a soft kiss on them. The following words sounded harsh and weighted contrastingly heavy with how tender his lips brushed your skin as he did so.

“He is.”

You froze, feeling your heart skip a beat and your stomach dropping. Your slightly widened eyes snapped to Heeseung’s, searching for any sign of dishonesty or teasing, but all you found was an expression of empathy, compassion that seemed to hurt him almost as much as it hurt you.

“W-What do you mean?”

Even though your voice came reluctantly and your eyes kept drifting to every inch of Heeseung’s expression, as if you expected for it to be a massive lie he was telling you, that new piece of information had your entire being reacting weirdly, awakening – or intensifying – a stronger desire to maintain your previous plan, morality being thrown out the window. 

Heeseung’s jaw tightened at your expectant, griefing eyes, and for a moment he looked away as though struggling to find the right words, the ones not to hurt you even more. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft but steady, and made you wince with a bittersweet feeling.

“He’s been spending a lot of time with someone in finance these past few weeks,” a sudden pang in your heart made your breath hitch. “And… from what I’ve seen, it’s not just friendly. His hand is always on her waist, and the smiles they exchange...” He trailed off, not wanting to add to your pain, especially by how your lips pursed together into a small sad pout. “I caught them kissing the other day. I didn’t confront them– I didn’t even know how to tell you. I didn’t know where you worked, and the only chance I had to see you was at your house.” He gave a small, almost remorseful smile, avoiding your gaze. “And honestly, I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself if I saw him.”

His tone was apologetic and sincere, giving you enough to ignite a growing anger in your chest. 

If you had doubts before, this was more than a confirmation. Not only about your marriage obviously going down in shambles, but mostly to know you weren’t wrong for searching for Heeseung in the first place.

Your mind was caught in a tug-of-war, split into two opposing forces. One side replayed the vows you had once written for your husband, while the other mercilessly pointed out the everyday moments that made it clear he no longer deserved a single word of those promises.

That latter part desperately sought justification, crafting reasons to convince yourself this wasn’t wrong. He did it first, it whispered. He cheated on you. You have every right to even the score.

But this wasn’t just about revenge. It was something deeper – a mix of fractured morality and raw, unfiltered longing for the man standing before you. A man who had just confessed that he feared losing control if he ever faced your husband.

His words stirred something primal within you, replacing the sting of betrayal with a flicker of desire you couldn’t ignore.

Heeseung, in far less time than your husband had, had proven you were worth it. He showed you that you were someone worth fighting for, someone who deserved more.

The intensity in Heeseung's gaze was palpable, his eyes burning with a heat that made your breath hitch. When your own heavy, searching eyes met his, the air between you thickened, electric and tense. The room felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for one of you to make the next move.

Yet, as undeniable as the chemistry was, you were still hurt. The anger bubbling within you was impossible to suppress. Every fiber of your body screamed frustration, the weight of betrayal pounding against your chest like a drumbeat.

There was a fire inside you – a burning rage that demanded release. You wanted to scream, to lash out, to make someone – your husband – feel the same devastation that was ripping through you. It felt like an overwhelming need to break something, to pour all your fury into a physical outlet.

And it was then that you realized you needed to take it out on something. 

Before you could act on the reckless thought of leaning forward to claim Heeseung's kissable lips, he rose from his seat with a quiet confidence, still holding your hands. Gently, he tugged you to stand, leaving you momentarily dazed. Your bag slipped from your shoulder onto the chair he was sitting as he guided your body to turn away from him, positioning your back to his chest.

You shivered when his warm breath fanned over your ear, your composure threatening to crumble entirely. Your legs gave a slight, involuntary tremble, as if warning you that, depending on his next actions, you might find yourself falling face-first on the bed in front of you.

“Can I touch you?”

His voice was soft, almost reverent, and the question sparked a mix of confusion and curiosity spiraling through you. You nodded silently, unable to form a coherent response, and his hands moved to your shoulders, his warm touch both soothing and electrifying.

“I know this is all fucked up," he murmured. "But I can’t let you carry all this tension.”

You let out a small chuckle, your shoulders wiggling slightly as you did, allowing your head to tilt to the side. The gesture opened a new, vulnerable space for him to explore, and the silent invitation didn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m tired…” you whispered, your voice fragile. “Frustrated also. But so, so tired of being with him. And now that I know he cheated on me,” your voice wavered, thick with suppressed anger and sorrow, “I–I think– I know I deserve better, but… I don’t even know what better looks like.”

Heeseung’s thumbs pressed into the tense muscles of your upper back right after you spoke. You swore you could feel the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he leaned closer, his breath grazing your ear sweetly, yet sultrily.

“I can show you what better looks like, darling,” he said lowering an octave, his tone both tempting and genuine, but mostly, filthy.

A low, involuntary hum escaped you, uncertain whether it was from the pleasure of his skilled touch kneading away your tension or the raw temptation dripping from his words, words that lingered in the air like a seductive promise, enticing you towards a darker path, leading to a gate of ruins – the kind born of broken vows and desires forbidden.

“Can you?” you shot back, your voice soft but tinged with challenge and curiosity, enough to elicit a low chuckle from Heeseung.

“Yeah. If you let me…” His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck and a shiver coursed through you, your body instinctively relaxing under his touch. “I can show you. Just say the word, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, and the now painful, agonizing memories of your dead relationship clouded the course of your next decisions. Not that if you were thinking entirely rationally you would avoid the temptation offered by Heeseung, nor would you shy away from the clear want to have him in a more intimate, more physical way.

Nonetheless, the rising anger towards Brendon, that had dismissed slightly but it hadn’t vanished, was slowly, yet completely taking over your being, controlling your senses and boosting the craving for making a move – a wrong move.

There was an excruciating necessity for feeling the revenge melting deliciously on your tongue, to payback, to be in charge of the trajectory of your life back again.

The morality was long gone.

“Please, Hee.”

You tilted your head back, resting against Heeseung’s shoulder. The chant in your brain yelled for you to stop, to resolve things correctly, how they should be, however your hands had already covered Heeseung’s and deliberately pulled them up, his palms now groping your covered breasts with you inciting it.

“Show me.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, your thoughts failing to keep you away from succumbing to your raw desires – Fuck Brendon, you said to yourself. He is the one to blame.

“Show me what I deserve.”

You were blinded by a mix of desire, lust and anger when Heeseung pulled you closer and began to massage your breasts vigorously, his soft lips kissing the length of your neck, jaw and then, the corner of your mouth, while his fingers varied between pinching your nipples and playing with them.

Your desire to have him was overwhelming and indescribable, your body melted under his slow and gentle touch. But that wasn't what you wanted, no. You wanted more; more intense, more fervent, hotter.

You needed to vent your growing rage, you needed to feel your frustration and pain fading away before you exploded.

“I'm angry, Hee,” you murmured through gritted teeth, your eyes narrowing only so you could turn towards Heeseung and grab him by the neck, the hands that once explored your chest now on your waist. “Don't treat me with care. Not now. Not today.”

And in a frantic movement, you attached your lips to his as if it were the last thing you were doing in your life, not even paying attention to how Heeseung's eyes were darkened and clouded by pure lust.

Heeseung felt struck by lightning when he finally kissed the lips he had dreamed of feeling for so long, but he didn't have time to appreciate a single second of their softness because you soon sought to deepen the touch, exploring his mouth with your tongue, searching for his so you could embark on a messy and needy kiss.

Your hands tugged at his hair lightly, occasionally trailing down to his bare, warm shoulder, shivering under your touch. Your heads moved in an unsynchronized rhythm – there was no time to cherish, to appreciate the intimate connection. You just wanted to feel him closer, to feel him deep in you.

When Heeseung's large hands grabbed your ass, you murmured something that sounded like “more”, quickly indicating with your own hand for him to squeeze harder.

The request was swiftly met, your bodies pressing together hungrily to the point where you noticed the erection that was growing under the few cloths that covered Heeseung. You moaned when you felt him hard against you, your breathing hitching.

When you least expected it your back was laid out on Heeseung's bed, with him on top of you, still kissing your lips, your breaths heavy and interrupted, however not enough to break the connection.

But you still wanted more.

“More, Hee. More.” You exhaled at one point, when for a brief moment, your lips parted.

Heeseung had already thrown his sanity out the window. He had intended to treat you with care, affection, and show you how worthy you were, but his plans seemed to differ from yours; you seemed to need an intense and passionate sex, one that he knew he could offer you.

Without much hesitation, he dared to detach his lips from yours just so he could move them down your still covered torso, grazing the fabric of your shirt and stopping at the edge of the waistband of your slacks.

Heeseung guided his gaze upwards, only to find you slightly disheveled, panting, and with swollen lips. The skin around your mouth was reddened from the intensity of the kiss you shared, and he was sure he wasn’t much different himself.

“Please, don’t stop…” You whined and squirmed a little when you realized he was taking too much time to appreciate your expression of desperation instead of using it to make you feel good.

You felt your panties uncomfortably soaked with your arousal and your whole body boiled with lust and need for more.

More, more, more, it was what the chant in your head was screaming now, completely lost in the lustful haze that overwhelmed you agonizingly, mixed with the anger of having been betrayed, been cheated on.

Your hand fit perfectly on top of Heeseung's head when he finally removed your bottoms along with your panties in one go; his beautiful eyes, previously full of attention and affection, now showed pure need for having you naked and exposed.

“Shit, darling…” Heeseung groaned, seeing your wet folds and pulsing hole. “You’re so fucking perfect, so fucking wet,” he kissed your inner thigh and you winced, throwing your head back on the pillow and trying to relax your breathing. “Release your fucking anger on my hair while I make you fucking cum with my mouth, yeah?”

Although you didn’t see, he flashed you a last mischievous glance and a smirk before darting back to stare at your inviting pussy, his own respiration hitching as his mouth watered. 

Wasting no time, Heeseung dipped his flattened tongue all along your extension, sucking at the very end straight on your clit, just to get a preliminary taste but stirring quite a loud moan from you. Your hips waved forward to search for more immediate contact when he briefly leaned away to close his eyes, a phantom of a smile lingering on his lips as he appreciated your flavor melting in his palate.

Your hands pushed his head back down, forcing his face to dive deep into you and he couldn't be happier, even letting out a small giggle with your unashamed eagerness.

It felt amazing to receive an oral that skilled, that warm mouth working perfectly to suck your arousal enthusiastically, big nose nudging in an expert dance against your sensitive bud of nerves and, damn, that tongue assaulting your pulsing hole by entering in and eventually stroking through the other parts, passionately exploring your cunt.

Heeseung was giving you full attention.

Somehow it triggered an urge to cry in between your moans, because you were associating practically everything with your husband – the heated kisses you never really got to receive, the deprivation of sexual interactions where you felt desired, the words that lifted your self esteem.

Brendon had never treated you this way, the right way. He barely even gave you a fraction of the care and attention that Heeseung was now showering upon you, his desire to bring you pleasure evidently being treated as if it was his own, as though having you shaking and pleading for more with your drenching cunt on his mouth riled him up.

Your eyes stung and tears dared to roll down your temples onto the pillow beneath your head, the lump on your throat and a strange feeling filling your chest that only fueled your pain and anger.

Instinctively, your fingers tightened their grip on Heeseung's soft hair, strong enough to make him groan in pain, but not enough to make him complain or ask you to stop. You also forced him down once again, using his face, mouth, tongue, nose, everything to get yourself off and drift the sorrow away.

“F–Fuck–” A whimper escaped your lips when Heeseung entertained your idea instead of backing off, intensifying how he was eating you out deliciously, his own breath growing stronger, ragged within each passing minute he deepened his head between your legs, nearly suffocating himself.

You could feel the foreign knot on your stomach tightening along with the pang in your chest and Heeseung’s grip on your thighs; his hands moved to under them to position on his broad shoulders, skin on skin making you notice how hot both of your bodies were, and, at the same time, serving as a not-so-gentle lucidity reminder of the intimacy you were sharing.

Although the temptation of achieving your release just with Heeseung’s mouth tickled your core, you couldn’t help the sane part of your brain prompting that, perhaps, the ongoing scenario wouldn’t happen even again and you had to live it up the best.

Everything was so confusing. You just had a reckless, frustrated and anger driven decision that led you to have Heeseung buried deep in your pussy, nonetheless you were still married – at least on paper. 

You had a husband. 

The hand that held Heeseung in place was curiously your left one, as if the whole world wanted to remember you were being a cheater; your pretty ring sparkled amidst his dark locks in a beautiful, nearly artistic mess.

A roll of eyes brought you back to the overwhelming sensation of Heeseung’s warmth involving your sensitiveness, snapped you back into the haze of unawareness of your sad reality. He cherished your climax as much as you, and was willingly determined to make you cum just by his mouth. You, on the other hand, had different plans.

“Hee…” You called in a moan and tried to pull him away, your closed eyes making the unleashed tears flow easily. He shook his head and pushed himself down again, oblivious to the turmoil blending with your pleasure. 

He only halted his movements when you added. “Mhm, stop, please–”

A soft kiss within a plop sound was planted on your clit when he stopped, stirring a small shake in your body and a quiet whine. Heeseung lifted his gaze and caught your furrowed brows and bitten-swollen lips, and also noticed your tears.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

His voice carried a hint of concern, unsure if your tears were from pleasure or sadness, especially since you had just asked him to stop, leaving him dealing with mixed signals.

“Nothing's wrong,” you shook your head and smiled, because the man in front of you not only respected your request immediately but also prioritized your well-being over the sex. A rarity in your life.

Even so, Heeseung maneuvered your legs to place them back on the soft mattress and moved to hover comfortably over you, his eyes searching for your still closed ones. You felt a gentle stroke on your cheek, followed by his warm breath fanning your nose and lips, signaling he was closer to you than you had realized.

Your free hand blindly traced the path of his arms to his neck, while the other, still tangled in his hair, pulled him into a kiss with one singular, simple purpose: to drown out all the overthinking that had started to flood your mind.

The tears intensified as your lips moved in sync, and when Heeseung tried to pull back, likely to ask what was wrong, you tugged him down again and silenced the possibility by deepening the kiss.

A terrible feeling began to rise, fighting against the one that had filled the room minutes ago – lust.

You wanted Heeseung as a man. You wanted him to keep touching you as he did moments ago, to give you the pleasure you deserved and wanted, not only because he offered that chance but mainly because you desired it and allowed it.

Yet, it was so messy and confusing. The weight of guilt pressed heavily on your chest, the self-awareness and the realization of cheating beginning to restrict your actions.

And then came the anger.

He betrayed you first. He didn’t treat you right. He didn’t respect you. Maybe, he didn’t even love you.

That marriage had been dead for so long. The façade you had desperately tried to keep intact by scattering beautiful flowers along the path was already thrown in the trash. You deserved better – you deserved a confident, strong, incredible and undeniably attractive gentleman like Heeseung.

Heeseung.

Heeseung, who was right in front of you, so close, kissing you with a slow, addictive heat. Heeseung, who had respected you from the very beginning. Heeseung, who risked parts of his morality, his life, and his values just to get closer to you. Heeseung, who occupied every corner of your mind.

Why was it so hard to accept that you might actually deserve him?

A shaky sigh broke the intoxicating kiss as Heeseung propped himself up on one arm to look into your glossy, reddened eyes. Before any questioning words could escape his swollen lips, you allowed your raw desire to be spoken aloud.

“Fuck me with your fingers,” you demanded, your voice soft, yet firm and serious as your eyes roamed Heeseung’s features. 

His forehead was starting to damp some hairs in sweat, his nostrils moved along his intense breathing and his lips, parted, showed your work of art on them, glistening with your saliva and earlier arousal.

Your hand covered the one that still lingered tenderly on your cheek, grabbing it to drive slowly down to your pussy.

“I want to feel you in every way possible, Hee.”

Heeseung couldn’t deny the confusion of your actions, the sudden cry, the smallest hesitation he caught in between the kiss, and now this. He was in no place to deny such a filthy request though, a request that got his neglected, aching dick throbbing in his boxers, nearly screaming for some relief or space to breathe.

Still, an incomprehensive sensation lingered on the back of his head as he tracked your every face motion.

“Are you sure?” The question itself was just a confirmation you were alright, you were still thinking somehow straight and taking decisions you really wanted to live up with.

Cheating wasn’t Heeseung’s game either. He hated the idea of being or having an affair as much as you; infidelity never sounded right to his ears. Nonetheless the situation was so uniquely specific. His true concern was when you would dump that jackass you called a husband, the one who wouldn’t lift a finger to make you happy, the one who, quite the opposite, would be more than thrilled to make you feel worse every passing day.

Selfish as it may be, it was genuine to his intentions. Heeseung had been fully aware of his plan from the start, knowing it wasn’t entirely right to do so, but sounded like the most possible option – to show what you deserve, and how he would willingly give it to you.

Now, he wished he could have stayed loyal to the original intent of this entire thing, where he promised himself to help you out of a toxic relationship without getting personally attached.

But it was you. You, with your charming smile. You, with your pretty expressive eyes. You, with your loving personality. You, with your sincere care for those you loved.

You, taking over his thoughts within every shade of mundanity and profanity, from the most casual to the most profound and intimate area.

Tasting your lips was the first stumble. Venturing in your intimacy was where he fell. 

“Yes, Hee,” you nodded, softened eyes showing your need along with a press of his fingertips into your hole, teasing an intrusion. He moaned with you. “I’m sure.” 

“Fuck,” a curse slipped from his mouth like a grunt, and his lips pressed against yours to kiss you again, because in no world he would miss the opportunity of having you this close, to drink from your whimpers as he circled his finger on your clenching pussy.

Heeseung was skilled in many nuances, you came to realize. But kissing was definitely his most noticeable talent. He knew where and when to move to match your energy, how to use his tongue to grace yours in a deliberate dance that twisted your feelings, leaving you lightheaded and dizzy, craving for more.

You might have taken his supposition of you deserving more a bit too far, because you also noticed Heeseung was apparently tailor-made to provoke your instincts of wanting, of more – it never felt enough.

So when he finally inserted his middle finger, you jolted and gasped mid kiss, without being able to prevent your hips reflexively wiggling to get additional contact, nor your hands tightening around his silky strands, trembling just enough to make your desire noticeable.

“More,” you whispered in a shaky breath, lips brushing against each other before Heeseung’s ones trailed lazily along your cheek, lowering to your neck. You moaned. “Add more, Heeseung–” 

Your spongy interior hugged his following finger in a warm, tempting hug and he didn’t hold back his shameless humping against your leg that matched the pump into you, his cock twitching in despair for release, for freedom. It felt tight; both your pussy and the fabric around his length.

Heeseung panted in between the sloppy kisses he delivered along the extension of your goosebumped skin, loving how needy you sounded and acted by clutching his hair stronger and waving your body forward. 

His fingers worked wonders inside you, palm brushing lightly against your clit and providing a teasing amount of friction, but didn't give enough fulfillment to leave you satisfied. Both of you grew impatient before the silent shared-thought of Heeseung’s cock filling your pussy, replacing his two fingers, so he could feel all of you and hit your every spot.

A displeased whine followed by a quiet surprised gasp jumped out of your mouth when Heeseung removed his hand from you, lewdly licking his fingers clean with an arousing smirk before quickly sneaking it under your penult clothing piece to unclasp your bra.

You helped by arching your back just to give some space, and didn’t hide your shock by how easily he did it with just one hand; the tight tension that held boobs in place soothed as he removed your shirt altogether, making you sigh and wince a little as the room air fanned your, now, completely naked skin.

“Need to fuck you, darling,” he muttered, voice low, velvety and desperate. “Need it so bad.”

Your eyes followed closely how dilated Heeseung’s pupils were, blown with unfiltered, bare hunger dedicated to you. He unashamedly showed his craving by licking his swollen lips at the sight of your perked nipples aching for some attention, and for brief seconds he cupped your breasts with each of his hands and kneaded softly, just to feel the smoothness of them.

Your lazy smirk and hooded eyes demonstrated your enjoyment with the devotion Heeseung was giving you willingly, without asking anything in return as you were used to; your husband always sharply requested something back if you said you wanted him to play with your body and give you something instead of using it for his own pleasure. 

“You’re so fucking hot, darling,” Heeseung complimented with a quiet grin, worshipping your gorgeous body exposed for his eyes, eyes that showered you with want, with genuine interest on what they were seeing.

Such a foreign experience for you.

He grazed his fingertips downwards the fat of your waist and hips as he, himself, lowered all the way on the bed before standing up on his feet. 

“You think so?” You asked shyly, barely audible as you propped yourself in one arm to watch the small show Heeseung was giving you by removing his sweatpants; you couldn’t help your salivation or the pulses in your cunt seeing the shape of his cock, drawn along the fabric, and the big dampened portion indicating his leaking tip that teased the subsequent vision.

When Heeseung finally exposed his length completely, you couldn’t hold back the sigh, the wide-eyed stare, or the dry swallow that slid down your throat.

He was big. Long and flushed, angrily aching, begging for relief. And he was about to be inside you.

“Fuck…” 

Heeseung’s grin stretched with your adorable, yet sultry reaction – the whisper of your curse traveling straight into his ear, flattering his ego; your legs closing and your thighs clenching involuntarily in order to find some satisfaction stirring a throb on his hardened cock. 

“I’m totally sure of it, doll,” the endearment got your needy hole clenching more, and Heeseung seductively hovering on top of you with his piercing eyes locked onto yours didn’t help much. Your breath hitched, eyes gleaming with expectation, but your cheeks warmed after he added. “You’re like a goddess.”

Maybe it wasn’t exactly his words, but how he sustained eye contact while he voiced them. Heeseung had an attitude that got your core bubbling in a rush of excitement, both sexual and… affectionate. 

Effortlessly and shamelessly, he had expressed just how deeply you affected him, simply by being in your presence. The way his body responded to yours with such ease, by nothing more than fleeting touches and exchanged words, with your consent, felt surreal. It was so far from the reality you were used to, so unexpected.

“You make me go insane…” He continued, kissing your neck while positioning himself in between your legs.

Your hands grabbed the sheets beneath you as he pressed the tip on your pussy, his free hand caressing your cheek as the other held his support beside your face.

“Dreamed about you from the very first day…”

The confession sounded raw, voice slowly pronouncing each word with care, but hoarse enough to show the sincerity of it, as if he had let down his guard completely and was letting his deepest thoughts escape without filters. It caused an unfamiliar wave within you, something that both eased your nerves and sparked your curiosity, something that got you clutching the sheets harder and your eyes fluttering close.

“When I found out you were married to that pathetic excuse of a man,” Heeseung maintained his tone low and deliberate, matching the rhythm he started to enter you, face still buried in your neck. “I was so, so pissed.”

Your breath hitched, overwhelmed by the feeling of the weight of his length and how deliciously he was stretching your hole.

On top of that, Heeseung’s unfiltered words didn’t leave an open space for you to add anything else, too flustered, aroused, lost in your pleasure and bafflement under the bare feeling of intimacy, leaving the job of talking entirely for him.

So he kept going, taking your silence and how your brows furrowed into a contorted expression of pleasure as a positive reaction. 

“I saw him talking shit about you every day,” he murmured, already more than halfway inside you, taking his time, savoring the way you clenched around him. Soft and breathy grunts escaped amidst the speech he chose to vent to you. “And I couldn’t do anything, not back then. I had to get closer to him to get closer to you.”

That piece of information was new, though you could easily deduce it by sorting out the fragments you already had. You wished you could fully comprehend it, respond as you wanted, maybe even thank him or whatever, but the way Heeseung deepened his movements, his body pressing against yours, his pelvis in contact with your skin, was clouding your mind.

“I wanted to destroy your marriage, love. I’m not even ashamed to admit it,” he whispered against your ear like telling you a secret, then raised his head to search your gaze. “So, so, so beautiful…” 

You fluttered your lashes, weakly trying to meet his eyes. Your hands, once gripping the sheets, trembled as they found their way to Heeseung's shoulders. He noticed how your eyelids struggled to stay open, feeling the weight of his body on top of yours, knowing that every sensation was pulling you deeper into a space where he believed you truly belonged – completely immersed in raw pleasure.

Your cheeks flushed, and although Heeseung believed it was from the lustful warmth, it was mostly because of his genuine words, the way he told his side of the story, which left you disoriented yet absorbing every sentence.

“You’re gorgeous, darling,” he said once again, as though expecting you to absorb the compliments. Knowing how unwanted your relationship made you feel, he had a mission to make you understand you were wonderful and he was deeply affected by you. “The prettiest woman I ever laid my eyes on.”

You whimpered quietly when he dared to move an inch away, pulling out his cock a little just to pump into you again. With your body already limp, you gave up on keeping watching his handsome face up-close, the glimpse of a tender smile being your last view before closing your eyes.

Heeseung took your decision as a silent invite for a kiss, hand sneaking in between your hair towards you nape, attaching his mouth on yours in a slow and sensual touch that got you melting even more. He muffled his own grunts as he drank in your beautiful moans.

You couldn’t come up with a proper description about the fluttering in your chest and stomach with such a gentle contact, nor the way his hips moved deliberately, allowing you to not only adjust, but feel his deep thrusts everywhere. 

Somehow, you really felt Heeseung everywhere. 

His tongue twisting softly with yours, sucking your lips with a slow passion that took your breath away. The words, lingering on the back of your head and mixing with the amount of pleasure he was giving you, had your heart beating louder and stronger against your ribcage. 

“You deserve more,” he carried on with his mission of making you feel worthy, stopping the kiss to press his lips on the corner of your mouth. “So much more, darling.”

And although you wanted to enjoy the slow sex he was providing you, the words of devotion he was offering with so much ease and genuineness, your messy thoughts and feelings suppressed it.

It felt like Heeseung’s adoration triggered even harder those reminiscences of your broken marriage. You remembered the times you sacrificed yourself, damaging your mental health for someone that threw everything away to cheat you, to have an affair. 

Regret was an euphemism to begin with what was going through your head. You felt so ridiculous for letting things get to that point. It was an unpleasant blend of blaming your husband and blaming yourself because, even if you tried to see it from the perspective that he never deserved even a fraction of your care and love, there was still the part where you chose to stay.

And why?

You had always brushed aside the possibility of divorce. At times, questioning why you stayed meant entering a limbo without an exit – or one you didn’t want to find. So, you avoided thinking too much about it. You accepted what he gave you.

But why? 

Why did you accept so little?

Your friends had asked you that a few times, but your anger grew at the mere thought of considering the question. Eventually, they stopped asking too.

It was a silent answer you didn’t want to give – acknowledging that the man who had promised you eternal love didn’t love you anymore hurt your ego, hurt your sense of integrity. Instead of leaving, you chose to stay and try to fix it, to make yourself wanted and loved again. But how could you change something immutable?

Anger.

It flared again, thundering in your chest and making you tight your hands into fists. The fingers tangled in Heeseung’s hair gripped a tuft tightly, pulling unconsciously as a way to release your rising rage. He hissed right after, furrowing his brows trying to understand what was happening with you.

Heeseung felt like perceiving your actions and moods with surprising ease after spending quite some time along with you, observing your demeanor and how you changed expressions due to something in particular, either for good or bad. 

However, right at that moment, when he was fucking you nice and slow, kissing you with care and giving you the amount of fondness he felt you deserved, he sensed confusing signals about what you really wanted. Or maybe he was interpreting your needs through his own perspective, assuming you sought love and affection when, in fact, you craved for something tougher.

Heeseung pressed your lips together once more, but now with less delicacy than before as testing the waters. You gave an immediate reaction, gradually loosening your grip on his locks to something teetering the bearable and actually pulling him closer, deepening whatever you could deep while kissing him.

The frustration in your chest dissipated as your tongues clashed aggressively against one another, suppressing your growing moans as he started to thrust faster. Within seconds, Heeseung started to hit a certain spot that got you shivering and letting out a particular loud moan under his strong hold on your body.

He quickly noticed the change in your body language and adapted himself to it. One last tug on your lower lip between his teeth, strong enough to almost leave bloody marks and elicit a groan from your throat, was what told you he was about to change positions.

Heeseung slightly raised his upper body to position himself on his knees and looked at you with a certain fierceness, with hunger, and you, now with your eyes mildly open, saw the bareness of his lust stirring the most profound heated desire carved in your soul, bringing back to life something you didn’t notice you had lost.

“So this is what you wanted, huh?” Heeseung flashed you a devilish grin, his voice low and notably teasing, finding support on your open thighs. 

His pelvis, once slow, began to move with more urgency, gradually increasing the pace together with the smirk that graced the corner of his reddened lips. You winced, feeling dizzy with the sound of his low moans and the slapping skin-on-skin.

Rolling your eyes with a content smile and a quiet nod was your failed attempt to give a proper response, because you felt too lost embracing the sudden switch that got your core throbbing in excitement, at the same time that released your tensed nerves.

“S’good,” you whimpered and arched your back slightly, head being thrown back as you did so. 

Heeseung cooed at the view of your boobs bouncing with each of his deep pounds into you, together with how your hands desperately struggled to find a grounding physical piece as you grabbed everything around you – the sheets, his arms, the pillow.

He had picked up a rhythm that kept you swaying on the edge of your growing release, so extremely close to snapping you into a bliss of pleasure, yet far enough to drive you insane.

He was playing with you like a toy – his favorite. Denying you the climax of your desire – so freaking amazing. 

“Y’could have told me earlier, darling,” he clicked his tongue with faux disappointment, breathing heavy in between his sharp words. “Would be fucking you like this from the very begining.”

You even tried to murmur a soft apology, but it got lost amidst your messy whimpers, your hazed mind, foggy with need making it hard to think of anything other than Heeseung’s cock, Heeseung’s voice, Heeseung’s name. Heeseung.

And you wanted more. Always. Fucking. More.

So with your lips falling open, you were able to only plead.

“More… Please, Hee, more…”

Heeseung was going crazy as much as you. He felt his body becoming exhausted with each passing thrust, however, he had no intention of stopping too soon, not without feeling the amazing clench of your pussy hugging his dick so fucking good as you cummed all over his shaft, not without letting his release fullfill you in a way that you would never forget who fucked you dumb so good like that. 

It felt like a magic spell, drifting him back and forth into reality and insanity, because of how good your cunt were making him feel, allowing his length to go fast, deep and strong into your pulsing hole; spongy interior pressing his hardened cock that ached for an orgasm. 

“Fucking pussy– Fucking tight pussy, makes me insane– Shit–” He panted in between breathy moans, voice coming out low, yet strained as his body faltered forward.

You lost count on how many times your eyes had rolled, not that you were actually trying to number it; the ecstasy Heeseung was providing you was wild, lunatic even. You only noticed his closeness again when his lips brushed your neck, not kissing or anything. He was just… there, as lost in his pleasure as you, muttering a row of curses and your name within gorgeous moans. 

You wanted to cum so, so bad, and somehow you couldn’t let go of it fully, the pressing knot on your lower stomach refusing to unfold into your orgasm. 

“Hee– Mhm–”

Heeseung was in love with how distant and broken you sounded, babbling nonsense as he pounded deeper. In love with how hot and sweaty your skin was in contact with his equal one, showing how intimate you two were. In love with your beautiful noises, that made his balls tight with his near climax. 

“Fuck– You like cheating on your jerk husband with me, don't you?” The breathy question murmured against your earlobe had no purpose of getting an answer, yet you gave one, echoing ‘yes’ like a prayer, hand in fist hitting lightly Heeseung’s broad shoulder as a way to find an anchor. You were so close. “It's okay, darling. It’s okay, yeah?” 

Heeseung kissed your neck, then your lips. 

“You deserve better.”

Heeseung led his fingers to rub your clit, eyes locked on your contorted face. So close.

“I can give you better.”

Heeseung’s body trembled nearly at the same time as yours started to shake uncontrollably. The wave of pleasure that coursed through your body was too much to handle, so you simply let go, relaxing your entire being and allowing it to take control of your movements without thinking deep into it.

You saw the world turning into white for a few seconds, your ears ringing with an annoying, far noise that clouded your mind and numbed your limbs. Heeseung's name escaped your lips, the ones stained due to the long, passionate kisses and delicious bites, like a sob that was both painful and sweet.

You barely heard anything Heeseung cursed through his heavy breath and addictive moans, nor your name being called as he filled you with thick ropes of his warm cum, let alone the kiss he placed on your chin right after or the chuckle he let out when noticing your drool.

The burning sensation in your stomach traveled its path until it reached your cunt, releasing in a squirt as you cried and squirmed. 

You cried, tears dancing on your face as you, slowly yet impactful, went through every possible sensation, but not really feeling all of them. It was weirdly good, an unprecedented experience you didn’t know you needed to have until right at that moment.

You wanted to make it last forever.

After what you decided to define as minutes passed, remotely distant, like a muffed blur, fighting with the dense fog inside your head, you started to hear Heeseung’s voice trying to bring you back to him.

“Hey, darling,” he kissed your cheek softly, brushing his thumb on your lower lip, a contact that contrasted absurdly with the fact that he was still buried deep within you. “I’ve got you, mhm?” 

And he followed to shower you with affectionate sweet words, asking if you were alright, for you to open your eyes, to say some words just to know you were fine. At some random moment you lazily blinked, hardly actually seeing Heeseung due to your tear-drenched eyes. 

“You made me squirt,” you whispered weakly, the lingering touch of Heeseung’s lips on yours still feeling like a ghostly caress, though you felt his body trembling as well as his smile when he chuckled.

“Hell yeah, I did.”

Heeseung slowly searched for air to his exhausted lungs, his body relaxing but making sure not to press your exhausted one. He was worried about your integrity after such a long and hard orgasm. 

“You good, baby?” 

The pet name felt natural, as if for Heeseung, calling you with endearing nicknames was as common as drinking water on a daily basis.

The warmth of his touch – he had let his hand, which had once gently caressed your face and brushed away sweat-drenched strands of hair, travel to your waist – was loving, making you yearn for more while feeling valued.

His gaze, full of care, radiated an aura of calm, like a magical magnet pulling you closer; there was no other explanation for your desperate desire to kiss him, as a way to reciprocate what he offered you freely.

Heeseung made you feel wanted, cherished, and respected in ways you hadn't known in far too long. It was all so new, though not entirely; it was confusing and messy and chaotic, but so, so good.

You gave a small nod in response and pulled him into another kiss, this time slow and gentle. You felt him pull his softened length from you, a small hiss and a frown coming from your side due to your sensitiveness. 

“Sorry,” Heeseung whispered in a genuine apologetic tone before diving back again to keep his tongue brushing deliberately on yours.

He was kissing you with so much feeling, yet in a sensual motion that got your breath caught in your throat, the beats of your heart matching the pace of the subtle pressure of his swollen lips against yours.

You could feel a phantom of a smile coming from Heeseung in between the kiss, as if he was thrilled about what just happened with you two – and to be honest, so were you. He had given you not only an unreal, breathtaking sexual experience that led your body to feel limp and extremely relaxed, but he mostly showed you the possibility beyond your current life.

Heeseung unveiled, somehow, your freedom to quit the confines you were trapped in, a way out of the prison that held you in place, restricting your needs, your wants and, mainly, your love and affection.

He had shown you an escape. Maybe a ruined one, but still an escape. 

Nonetheless, as quickly the sweet moment started, it stopped, when a sudden wave of realization hit Heeseung. The once hazy mind that drove you both into an intense path, leading towards a more serene one, was now reactive and alert.

“Oh, fuck…” Heeseung’s voice was dripping with exasperated concern when he broke the kiss by leaning back from you with widened eyes. 

The moment you saw his expression, you couldn’t help but frown, a confused pout forming on your lips. He started scanning the bed frantically, his gaze darting around as if searching for something if it was used, would be on his… “Shit.” He glanced down to see the obvious. No condom.

His mouth opened and closed, as if the words were stuck somewhere between his brain and his tongue. He exhaled deeply, searching for comfort in your gaze, but, obviously, you wouldn’t be offering a quarter of it to him. Actually, your curious-dumbfounded eyes increased his nervousness.

“We didn’t use protection,” he finally blurted, his voice heavy with anxiety.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the whole soothing atmosphere suddenly fading in a snap as the room seemed to shift, the air growing thick. You felt a shiver running down your spine and instinctively you lifted your body, propping yourself up on your elbows, your eyes widening with a surge of fear. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You glanced back at him, your eyes wide with alarm, completely unaware of how Heeseung’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed dryly. 

His usual calm demeanor faltered before your reaction, and the fear was clear in his current state, with his body tense, pupils blown and dilated, as well as his short bursts of breath that grazed your face, blending with your equally rapid one.

The following question got your chest tightening even stronger, the weight on the room now teetering unbearable. 

“B–But you take your pills… Right..?” His voice wavered, his eyes desperately searched for reassurance in yours, his hand once gently holding you, now gripping quite fiercely on your hips.

Your immediate silence was more than enough of an answer, still you shook your head, denying. A cold spread through your chest when you realized you had made a huge mistake, your body falling back on the bed as you said, voice barely above a whisper as you did so, filled with terror. 

“I stopped taking it when my sex life stopped existing.”

Reading the situation, more specifically when he noticed your eyes brimming with fresh tears before you closed them, Heeseung quickly rushed to change his behavior, and instead of causing you even more pain and suffering, he sought to calm you.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, alright?” He positioned himself on his knees, gently taking your hands to pull you to sit as well. “We always have the option of the plan B pill, right?”

Fluttering your lids open, you sobbed, the view of Heeseung’s disheveled hair blurring due to your watered eyes. 

“But if he finds out–”

“He won’t,” Heeseung immediately interrupted, cupping your face tenderly.

He opted to ignore the pain in his chest because your instant line of thought somehow fueled a wave of realization that, despite his attempt to pull you away from that broken relationship, you might still go back to your husband as if nothing happened.

“I’ll buy it before you leave, okay?”

You let your gaze travel over Heeseung’s caring form as he gently caressed your face and placed random kisses on your lips. Your heart warmed, relief and genuine happiness flowing through every part of your body as you relaxed back, regulating your breathing. He nodded along with you, flashing a small smile that got your heartbeats thumping faster. 

“But just know that if– No. Forget it.” Heeseung started, but then cut himself off with a quiet, mysterious laugh and a shake of head.

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him inquisitively with your head cocking to the side.

“Now you have to tell me.”

A sigh escaped his lips when he realized you were unwavering in your demand and decided to speak, avoiding your stare.

“I was going to say that...” He cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks heat up. “That I wouldn’t mind you carrying a child of ours.”

If it weren’t for the quietness of his room, you probably wouldn’t be able to hear a word of what he had said. Unfortunately – or not –, you heard each single part of it and your reaction was to freeze.

Heeseung immediately noticed how you tensed, the grip on his hand tightening since he hadn’t let go of one of your hands. He blushed in a deep shade of crimson, feeling mortified for saying something so outrageous, but… He freaked out. He wanted to make you feel comfortable and secure, offering you a safe place with options for any possible outcome due to both of your irresponsibility. However, he made it worse.

“Sorry. I– We don’t know each other well enough for me to say that, but... You’re special, amazing, beautiful, smart... A child of yours would be a blessing, that’s what I meant.”

He tried to explain himself and he couldn’t pinpoint if it made the situation worse. The words caught in your throat because you hadn’t prepared for such a raw declaration after such intense and wonderful sex.

Heeseung was proving to you, once again, that you deserved more and better, even in between stumbled sentences of a rambled speech.

“In any case...” He continued, gulping. “I wouldn’t want a child of ours– Yours. Mine?” He giggled, embarrassed. “To be conceived in… Y’know…”

Your stomach dropped with the realization of what you just did. Yeah. A cheating sex. You cheated on your husband. Yes, you had a husband to start with.

How had you forgotten?

Once again, you found yourself torn in between your chaotic feelings, unable to make proper decisions due to your sensitive mind. You just had an amazing moment with Heeseung and would be willing to extend for some more encounters. On the other hand, there was still so much you needed to work through – both internally and externally – and it involved another person as well. 

The one who was supposed to be the love of your life, just as the promises of youth had once told you.

But those promises now felt like distant echoes, fading against the weight of reality. The life you imagined with Brendon had been clouded by too many unanswered questions, too many unsaid things throughout plenty of years. It crashed down now, like a tide that dragged you towards the deep, profound ocean of uncertainty. 

The connection that was supposed to bring comfort now seemed like a distant and extremely painful memory, because, afterall, he betrayed you first.

Lost in your reminiscences and confusing mind, you didn’t notice when Heeseung laid you back down on the mattress, cleaning you gently while leaving you to your thoughts. He was aware of the necessity of you having to think. He couldn’t even imagine what was going on in your mind and, honestly, he didn’t know if you wanted to share with him.

Especially with him.

Heeseung was not only an acquaintance of your husband anymore. He was the man that helped you to cheat. He was your affair, the wrong side of your life, the lack of morality, of honesty, of loyalty. He would be associated with that for the rest of your days, and strangely enough, he had no regrets.

Heeseung was aware that despite all the wrong decisions made that night, in the end, you got what you deserved: affection and the feeling of being cared for.

That was what you deserved, forever; to be desired, to be adored, to be placed on a pedestal as the incredibly wonderful goddess that you were.

Brendon didn’t deserve the heart-shaped sandwiches or the love notes you worked so hard to make every day, nor the meticulous care you put into the home he lived in, even though you worked as much as he did.

He didn’t deserve the way you looked at him with fondness, although most of the time it was a pretense, hiding the real layer of what you had felt for so long and refused to accept.

He didn’t deserve to hear your beautiful voice excitedly talking about a new flower arrangement you made or the new recipe you learned and nailed on the first try. He didn’t deserve to hear your laughter while watching comedy films or when something went wrong and you giggled, embarrassed.

Heeseung didn’t know if he, himself, deserved any of that, but he wanted to make you realize that you were so much more than just a facade of a wife.

You were so much more… To him.

“How do I go back to my house now?” You asked quietly after a while, your voice breaking the silence of the room like an anvil falling into a glass-floor. 

The question, however, wasn’t exactly directed to anyone in particular, you didn’t even notice you said aloud.

Heeseung’s response caught you off guard. 

“Do you want me to take you?”

You sighed, looking at him. As said before, you had laid back on the bed and he was right by your side, caressing you while you spent your last minutes thinking about your life and your future decisions. 

Heeseung driving you back to your house would make things worse, though you wanted to see how Brendon would react to that.

Brendon. Why does his reaction still mattered to you? He literally chose the same path you did tonight, but way before you and keeping his cool, as if he wasn’t throwing his whole marriage into the thrash for some random chick at his work.

“No.” You answered after a brief, yet close inspection. “I need some time alone.”

And Heeseung’s chest tightened in pain. You could still choose to stay with your husband after everything, it has always been one of the options when everything first started.

He swallowed the urge to try to convince you of his… Love? He couldn’t even name it yet, but something was definitely blooming into his heart and you, with your beautiful presence, was the big picture in that scenario. 

“Okay,” he whispered, agreeing with you.

And although you, yourself, weren’t sure of much, Heeseung was of one thing. 

It was more than worth it. 

When you got back home, the silence and the darkness of your house greeted you, embracing your confused and broken self with something bittersweet – your home was supposed to be your comfort spot, however it felt wrong. 

Everything felt misplaced, even though nothing had moved out of position. 

You scanned every corner of the living room, and yet, despite its familiarity, it felt foreign, like you didn’t belong there anymore. Perhaps you never did.

The walls were adorned with photos of you and Brendon, frozen moments from a life that now felt distant. The blanket draped over the couch was in your favorite color, a choice you had made once. On the coffee table sat an empty beer bottle, a quiet marker of your husband’s absence.

There were traces of you both scattered throughout the room, but more of you – too much of you, as if you had been trying to compensate for something. It felt forced, a desperate attempt to fit into a space that no longer welcomed you, if it ever had.

The realization clawed at your chest, leaving a dull ache behind. How had you gone so long without seeing it? Was it Heeseung – his touch, his words – that finally broke through the carefully constructed denial? Had he been the catalyst for you noticing just how distant you had become, not only from your marriage but from yourself?

You felt like an afterthought, an appendage to someone else’s story, shaped and reshaped to fit a mold that was never meant for you. When had you started losing yourself? How had it come to this?

Those questions lingered as you retreated to the guest bedroom that night, claiming it as your sanctuary. For the first time in years, you felt the stirrings of autonomy, fragile but liberating. The divorce was inevitable now, and though the thought of it was daunting, it also carried a bittersweet promise of freedom.

Years of effort and devotion would be discarded, left behind like relics of a life you no longer wanted. But there was still so much ahead of you – a chance to rediscover who you were, to seek experiences that might lead you closer to the version of yourself you once dreamed of becoming.

Heeseung had shown you that in such a short time.

And there he was again, invading your mind without warning, his presence haunting you in ways you couldn’t shake. You still feared that you might not be able to untangle your motives, whether they were born from the rage of betrayal and the years wasted on Brendon or from the fleeting warmth Heeseung had offered you with such tenderness and sincerity.

It felt good to be wanted, cherished even, but a painful truth gnawed at the edges of your resolve: you couldn’t just leap from one branch to another. It was your life, not Brendon’s, not Heeseung’s. Yours.

In the bittersweet goodbye that had left a knot in your throat and tears threatening to spill, Heeseung had told you he would wait, that there was something he felt for you that went beyond how your relationship had begun, tangled in raw desire and masked in the shadow of infidelity.

But no matter how grateful you were for him, you knew there was a path you had to walk alone first.

It was with that conviction, and Yunjin’s steady hand gripping yours, that you signed the divorce papers the following week after an argument tinged with sorrow, regret and truths being yelled out.

None of the words Brendon said to you would be forgotten. The contempt, the look of disgust, the bitterness as he harshly verbalized that you were never good enough for him. Yet, you would keep them in a special box, as a poignant reminder that you went through the worst, that you overcame the heaviest moment of your life.

You wouldn’t forget the hatred he made you feel for yourself, because it was through it that you allowed yourself to start loving you again.

Your chest tightened, anxiety and anticipation intertwining as you faced the blank slate of what came next. You had no idea where this journey would take you – but for the first time in years, it was entirely yours.

A first date.

You vaguely remembered the last time your body felt this nervous at the thought of meeting someone. It definitely hadn’t been with your now ex-husband, but it had been long enough to leave you sweating under your arms.

After a few encouraging words with Yunjin through your phone and a “good luck” text from your mom – who had been thrilled to hear about your divorce and provided immense physical and emotional support during those first few weeks – you stepped outside your apartment.

You had saved enough money to maintain yourself, still working at the flower shop on weekends as a hobby, after landing a job at a photography studio specializing in model shoots.

It was a passion that had been crushed when your ex made you believe your work was inferior and lame, forcing you to shrink yourself to fit into his impossible standards by leaving your best sides outside.

Now, freedom was your closest companion. You went out for coffee by yourself, enjoyed lunches at pleasant restaurants in your own company, and never felt sad or shaken by being alone – because you were alone, but you didn’t feel lonely.

The autonomy surrounding you was intoxicating, filling you with radiance to push forward with your days, even in the face of difficulties.

A quick greeting with the doorman snapped you back to reality as you headed to the restaurant that would be graced by your presence tonight. The difference this time was that you wouldn’t be dining alone.

The soft door noise indicated your entrance at the place, and instinctively your fierce eyes swerved through the small crowd looking out for someone. The way your heart raced made it feel like it might burst out of your chest the moment you saw his broad, unforgettable shoulders.

“Hee?”

He was standing, his tall figure casually leaning on the countertop chatting with someone at the little open bar in the corner of the restaurant. When he heard your angelic voice calling him, it took him seconds to turn and face you.

“Y/N.”

Your name left his kissable lips like a relieved sigh. And truly, he was relieved. Not that he thought you would stand him up, but after receiving an anonymous message – followed by the revelation that it was from you, a year after everything that had happened between you two –, asking for a meeting, it was hard for him to think positively about anything.

The walk as you approached felt as if the world had blurred into nothingness. The background music softened until it became a distant echo, your eyes fixed on Heeseung like he was the main subject through the lens of your camera, with everything else fading into obscurity.

Even in your daze, you caught the hesitant twitch of his hand, as though he wanted to reach for you but feared you might vanish the moment he did. The thought of him yearning for you as much as you desired him made your heart pound harder, stronger, and the flutter in your stomach increased.

In the past year, your mind often wandered back to how he made you feel in every nuance, from both physically and emotionally. It was undeniable that the heated night you shared replayed in your head like an irresistible, delicious film, tempting your urge to give up completely on your healing plan and run towards him.

But you couldn’t let yourself act in such a way, not when you promised you would be sure of your decisions from now on, and Heeseung was still a fragile subject back then. 

His height difference was striking enough to make you tilt your head up to meet his gaze, a movement that made you feel shyly adorable, and before Heeseung could help himself, a compliment slipped from his lips.

“You look beautiful.”

Your cheeks burned with fluster, unprepared for such an open and genuine remark. But it was Heeseung – effortlessly charming, naturally disarming. “Thank you,” you muttered, glancing down briefly before meeting his eyes again. “You look amazing, as always.”

Your compliment wasn’t just polite – he truly did look gorgeous. He looked delectable, dressed in casual all-black attire. His button-up shirt was left slightly undone, teasing you with a glimpse of his sun-kissed chest adorned with a golden chain that only added to his allure.

And then there was his brand new haircut. Heeseung had gone for an undercut, a style that veered away from his usual office persona but perfectly captured his seductive, magnetic charm. At least to you, it worked far too well.

On the other hand, Heeseung had to actively remind himself of how to keep air in and out of his lungs, otherwise he would pass out before your alluring, enticing, beautiful, provocative, goddess-like, unreal figure.

You had changed a lot, for better; not that you were anything other than stunning and attractive before, but you now carried your presence with confidence, you had a special glow that shone brighter than any chandelier in that fancy dinner place, enough to make Heeseung struggle to keep his cool, relaxed demeanor.

He could feel his self-control faltering, slipping through his fingers like sand, utterly unable to think straight as you quietly, yet intensely analyzed his features with your pretty eyes. 

“I reserved a table for us,” he managed to voice out, although it sounded slightly hushed. 

You giggled with his unexpected nervous behavior, clutching your bag strap as you nodded. “Bet you did.”

And with that, Heeseung guided you towards the mentioned table, placed far enough from the general crowd to grant you both a bit of privacy, with his hand touching your lower back. The area heated enough to leave you tense, yet thrilled with the fact that the atmosphere was slowly loosening. 

The conversation that followed felt awkward at first – unsurprisingly, considering your last encounter had been chaotic, brimmed with lust, guilt, and anger over circumstances neither of you could fully control. And, of course, it had all unfolded under the veil of cheating.

But as the initial tension began to dissipate, you found the exchange becoming more fluid. Heeseung’s responses gradually eased your nerves, just as your candidness gave him obvious clues about your intentions.

He admitted he wasn’t seeing anyone. In fact, since your last encounter, he had gone on a handful of dates, none of which, he confessed with a shy chuckle, had left him remotely satisfied. This revelation only came after he relaxed enough to let it slip, his words hesitant yet genuine.

If you had to describe him in one word, it would be anxious. And he was, in fact, very anxious about the outcome of the night, about the new details of your life, about what might unfold beyond this dinner.

There was a distinct tension lingering in the air between you, a silent but undeniable pull. It was as if the thought of your lips attaching together was a shared, unspoken desire – loud enough to keep ringing in your minds, connected by the lustful want of being each other’s.

It made its way subtly through the playful banter, through your soft laughter over his silly jokes, and mostly, through the fleeting touches on your shoulders and thighs.

“Y’know, after the whole thing we did, I was afraid I might back out with the divorce,” you blurted suddenly, after relaxing on the small couch they used as seats for that table.

Heeseung was sitting on your side, after you asked him to do so, instead of taking the seat in front of you. The minimal seconds with him were enough to make you crave more – Heeseung’s natural effect on you –, and you were glad he embarked on your request, even placing his arm on the back of your headset. 

This was the first time you mentioned the occurrence, though.

Heeseung wasn’t sure about it, but throughout the night he eventually figured out there was no way you would be acting this happy and sincere, beaming with your achievements and living an apparent good life, if you were still with that jerk.

Either way, hearing you speak brought the weight of reality – the weight that you were finally away from that shitty man, and even if it sparked a small flame of hope that maybe you might let him care for you the way he had wanted, his relief was already established by knowing you were no longer trapped in a burden relationship that aimed to destroy your beautiful soul.

He sipped on his drink before muttering, eyes never once glancing away from yours. You felt seen. 

“And what made you keep with it?” 

For a moment, a brief feeling of embarrassment flushed through you, although you didn’t let it take over your following response, sounding firm and, somehow, determined. 

“You.”

After you answered with such a soft tone, you tracked the movement of Heeseung’s Adam’s apple moving as he gulped, but he didn’t show any signal of hesitation when he smirked and leaned slightly forward as his brightened gaze wandered through your face, deliberately taking in your beautiful, serene expression.

He was offering you such a breathtaking visage, his demeanor finally at ease, yet magnetically pulling you to react to an unspokenly demand.

His lips were covered with a layer of his drink from the last sip, gleaming under the dim light that hovered you both, taunting your need of having them pressed on yours. His iris slightly dilated as they followed the movements of your eyelashes fluttering open and close in a slow dance, just to drift back to your lipstick colored lips, as if silently asking you for a kiss.

As if automatically, your faces began to slowly lean closer, breaths blending together with a mix of alcohol from your side and a strawberry flavor from Heesegun’s. 

But just as quickly as the atmosphere shifted into something more charged, it disappeared, as a waiter suddenly appeared to serve the dessert you had ordered. Embarrassed, you both pulled back briefly, sharing a subtle laugh and looked up to acknowledge the waiter, but Heeseung immediately cut in.

“Thank–”

“That can’t be real.”

A sharp pang in your stomach, your heart racing, and your throat immediately drying out. These were the initial reactions, before your hands began to tremble and a rush of heat spread through your body, making you feel utterly reactive.

“Brendon?” You whispered, disbelief making your voice shake as you processed that, after a year, you were seeing him during a sweet evening with Heeseung.

You had done everything to avoid him, taking every precaution to keep him out of your life,  even deleting your social media, afraid of what he might do. There had never been a physical threat, but after the breakup, you feared he might become volatile, wanting to take his anger out on you.

Thankfully, none of your friends had ever known about him, and you had never bothered to find out about him either.

But now, here he was, standing right in front of you two, his expression in complete disdain, his eyes seething with fury.

“You piece of shit,” was the first thing he spat out, as he saw the situation unfold – his ex-wife, now with what he considered his former friend. Betrayal.

You didn’t even notice how tightly he gripped the metal tray at his side. You also didn’t realize that Heeseung, who had been sitting at the edge of the couch, had already risen to his feet, his hands clenched into fists, his jaw clenched, and his eyes burning with rage.

He was ready to strike.

“So, it was for him that you left me, you whore?”

He barely managed to finish the slur because Heeseung moved too quickly. The collective gasp from the surrounding people was what made you realize exactly what had just happened.

You saw Heeseung throw a powerful punch, landing accurately on Brendon's face. Brendon staggered back, dropping the metal tray before quickly retaliating with a weak jab to Heeseung’s cheek.

Heeseung’s expression hardened after a stunned moment in place, processing the impact that got the area tingling, but the subsequent pain was far from being his main concern.

He smirked dryly and then grabbed Brendon by the shoulders to shove him back with force, sending him crashing into a nearby chair. Brendon struggled to regain his footing, but Heeseung advanced, his eyes burning with rage, and with a swift move, he knocked Brendon to the ground with another punch, leaving him unable to fight back.

The men around you quickly rushed in, trying to break up the fight. But you didn’t care about them, you shoved anyone who tried to intervene, the ones attempting to cling to Heeseung, trying to drag him back, or at least seeking comfort in the chaos that was unraveling within you.

“Hee–”

Your weak, tearful voice was cut off. Heeseung instinctively wrapped his arms around you in a protective embrace, not even realizing what he was doing as he pointed a finger at Brendon, who had managed to get back on his feet with help from the others.

“Shut the fuck up before you say a word about Y/N, you piece of shit,” he growled, his vision distorted by the boiling rage in his chest. He had been waiting for this moment from the very beginning, the moment to unleash all his frustration, all the hatred he had toward that man. “You’re useless. A worthless bastard who couldn’t recognize the fucking queen you had in your life.”

Heeseung’s large hands tightened around your waist, almost unconsciously, his chest rising and falling rapidly against your face as it pressed into him. Tears slowly started to coat your cheeks, your trembling body finding support in Heeseung’s tensed one.

“I hope you fucking burn in hell and get torn apart in the worst way. You don’t deserve a single ounce of the love Y/N gave you, and you had the fucking audacity to cheat on her.”

Brendon spat out blood, his lip split from Heeseung’s earlier punch. He smirked sarcastically, looking around the crowd that watched the scene.

“She cheated on me too,” he muttered, his voice weak but laced with venom.

Heeseung scoffed, almost rolling his eyes and nearly advancing on Brendon again; you felt the sudden attempt that immediately stopped when you whispered a quiet, hurtful “No…” 

You looked up, your eyes glossy with tears, finding Heeseung’s now worried ones. He softened before your pouty, scared expression.

He caressed your face tenderly, holding you closer as a way to keep you under his protection, although he knew Brendon wouldn’t have the guts to try anything else. After, he drove his attention back to the asshole standing weakly in front of him. 

“You didn’t even have the decency to give her the bare minimum, you worthless cunt,” he spat, words full of rage. “Let alone decent fucking sex. Of course she would cheat on you.”

That triggered a jolt from Brendon to charge at Heeseung, but it was quickly stopped by those holding him back, his ego riled up by the insult.

Heeseung let out a humorless laugh. “She searched out for someone who could give her what she truly deserves,” he said, his gaze shifting to you. His expression softened into a gentle smile, one that was genuine but sharp in contrast to the situation. “And if she'll allow me, I’ll keep being that man for her.”

Your eyes widened at his abrupt and sincere confession. Heeseung didn’t expect a response, honestly, so he turned his attention back to Brendon, his warning clear in every word.

“Get near her again, and I’ll make sure there’s no one around to stop you from getting your ass kicked, you little shit.”

He began pulling you towards the exit of the restaurant, but as he passed Brendon, he leaned in close to murmur just loud enough for him to hear.

“Just so you know, she cheated on you long after you did… And, oh, I’m sure you don’t know that, but she looks fucking gorgeous when she's squirting.”

Until you settled into the passenger seat of Heeseung’s car, everything felt like a blur, robbing you of the awareness to even notice he had paid for dinner before driving off. His voice had broken through just once, a soft “Are you okay?” before he retreated into an oppressive silence.

At first, you welcomed the break from words, needing time to process the storm of emotions swirling inside you. There was anger, because Brendon had crashed your date. Sadness, for having to relive that chapter of your life all over again. Gratitude, since Heeseung had defended you without hesitation. And then... there was desire, because he had looked absurdly damn good while doing it.

God dammit, you cursed silently in your head, shrinking into your seat and glancing away from Heeseung. You felt like a teenager stealing glances at a crush and pretending you weren’t staring when caught.

Worse, you felt like a dog in heat, your thoughts obsessing over how ridiculously attractive he was. His clenched jaw, hands tightening and relaxing on the steering wheel in an effort to calm himself, the slight cut on his lip, and the faint bruise forming on his cheek – likely from a ring Brendon had been wearing – all combined to give him an effortlessly rugged, devastating appeal.

The wound wasn’t deep, nothing to be overly concerned about, but it added an edge to his already striking features. You knew you would take care of it the moment you got to his apartment, but until then, you had to deal with the mixture of lust and a bunch of other things bubbling in your core.

Heeseung, however, was a bit different from you.

Seeing you so broken and tearful had hit him like a bullet to the chest. He never wanted the night to end like this, but there was no regret in the brutal way he had taken out his frustration on Brendon.

Heeseung’s mind raced, tangled with worry and anticipation over how you would react once the adrenaline wore off and you were in a comfortable space to properly talk things through.

He couldn’t get a read on you – not only because his eyes were mostly fixed on the road, but because you kept stealing glances at him and quickly looking away whenever he dared to glance back. Your behavior gave him no clear hint of what was truly going through your mind.

A flicker of anxiety sparked within him. Maybe you were nervous – possibly even considering ditching him altogether and ending whatever it was between you before it could truly begin. The mere thought gnawed at him, amplifying his own anxiety.

The fact that you had suggested going to his apartment instead of your own had caught him off guard. It was enough to confuse him even more, given the contrast with your otherwise unreadable demeanor.

Still, he opted to keep the quietness over the air, since he needed a time to think deeply about his actions. 

He acted out of impulse, for sure, but he wanted to make sure you understood he had absolutely no regrets and he would do it again, and again, and again.

To protect your integrity, he would settle a war if necessary. 

The moment you two reached the place you had visited once before, a sense of an odd nostalgia crept up your spine. Without even realizing it, you were both walking towards the elevator directed to Heeseung’s apartment’s floor. 

Your eyes were glued on your feet as a way to hide your fluster, struggling to fight the urge of jumping into that handsome man standing on your side. Your head was spinning with the most lascivious, filthy thoughts about how you would kneel right at that moment and give Heeseung the head of his life in order to pay back his earlier demeanor.

So. Fucking. Hot.

And contrastingly enough, there was Heeseung, frustrated with himself for making you witness such violent acts. 

He leaned his back and head against the cold metal walls of the elevator, eyes closing as a shaky breath escaped his lips. After a long moment, he finally spoke, carrying off a guilt you didn’t understand at first.

“I'm sorry you had to go through that,” he said, his voice gentle, yet filled with regret. You turned to face him, catching the movement of his beautiful neck exposed for you. You gulped. “I’m sorry you had to witness all of that. And I’m sorry for being a bit of a dick at the end... I got carried away.” He then opened his eyes to look at you, his expression almost vulnerable, his cheeks with a faint blush exposing his embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to objectify y–”

Before he could finish, you cut him off, practically throwing yourself into his body to attach your mouths together. Your lips collided with his bruised ones in a kiss that tasted of longing, and something metallic, like blood, and your fingers crawled their way towards his nape. 

Heeseung let out a pained groan, but didn’t stop you at all. Actually, he held you by the waist to press your chest on his torso. 

However, you immediately pulled back, your eyes wide with worry as your hands held his face delicately. 

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Hee…” you gasped, looking at him in alarm.

He chuckled, the sound deep, sensual, and made your heart flutter despite your current state of concern.

“You're good,” he said, shaking his head slightly with a teasing grin adorning his features. He didn’t care about any pain if that meant having your tongue swirling with his in that addictive motion he once got to try. 

With a tilt of head, he murmured. “Come here, mhm?”

“But your lip–” you tried to counter his words, but Heeseung’s hands seemed unwilling to let you go so easily.

“Shh,” he shushed softly, pressing a tender kiss against your lips. “I heard kisses heal wounds.”

A giggle escaped you, light and fleeting, before it melted into the moment, swept away by the kiss that happened subsequently. It began slowly, unhurried, as if both of you were savoring every second together.

His lips moved against yours with a sensual, deliberate rhythm, one that carried not just desire but something deeper – affection, yearning, a tenderness that spoke volumes.

It was as if Heeseung feared breaking you with his touch, or perhaps losing you altogether. You could feel it in the way his hands cradled your face, in the way his thumbs brushed softly against your skin. And you, in return, clung to him like he was your lifeline, your own quiet fear mirrored in the way your fingers twisted in his hair, anchoring yourself to him.

The metallic tang of blood on his lips barely registered; it was overshadowed by the warmth and electricity of the moment. His tongue traced the shape of your lips, a gentle request you didn’t hesitate to grant, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

His tongue caressed yours with a languid, intoxicating ease, exploring, coaxing, as if he wanted to memorize the taste of you.

Your breath hitched, heart racing in a chaotic rhythm that matched the way his hand slid down your side, fingers possessively holding your waist, as the air grew heavier within each passing second. You wondered for a moment when would the elevator stop, barely noticing the opened door. 

Heeseung broke the kiss briefly and realized the open door, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm and shallow as it mingled with your own.

“Inside,” he rasped simply, tone dropping an octave, thick with desire that dripped from his beautiful swollen lips. 

You nodded, unaware of what exactly he meant, leaving the mission of being guided completely at his hands as you pulled him back into another kiss, this time urgent and rushed. 

Heeseung frowned and moaned against your mouth, the collision of his bruised area stirring his thristness, awakening his most profound hunger for you; elicited an immediate reaction that got him stumbling with his own legs as you pushed him into his apartment.

A fleeting moment of clarity pierced through the haze in your mind as Heeseung groaned in pain once again, this time caused by your teeth accidentally grazing his injured lip in the heat of the moment.

“Hee–” you murmured, trying to pull back from the kiss, but he didn’t let you go easily. Only when you gently pushed against his chest did he finally retract, his dark eyes clouded with lust as they bore into yours.

“Let me take care of this first, please?” You whispered, your voice tinged with a teasing whine, paired with the kind of faux-innocent eyes that made him melt on the spot.

His firm resolve faltered instantly, and his temptation only seemed to deepen because of that very expression.

With a faint smirk, Heeseung pressed one last lingering kiss to your lips before stepping away. He disappeared into the bathroom to grab a first-aid kit, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the living room with your heart still hammering.

He wasn’t gone for long, but by the time he returned, you had already settled yourself on the sofa. Without a word, he joined you, sitting close by as you carefully tended to his wound.

A sharp hiss escaped his lips as the antiseptic made contact, and you couldn’t help but smile faintly, murmuring a soft apology.

His gaze never wavered from you, watching with an almost disarming tenderness, his large hand resting casually on your thigh as if to ground himself.

And when you finished, you lingered, your eyes tracing his features. Damn it, how did this man manage to look impossibly hotter even when roughed up?

“Stop looking at me with those eyes,” Heeseung broke the silence, his voice dropping to a low, teasing drawl.

Your gaze, which had shamelessly held contact on his lips – not because of the injury, but because you craved them – snapped up to meet him properly.

“What eyes?” you challenged softly, your voice laced with subtle mischief that matched nothing with your small pout and frown. 

Heeseung’s hand shifted from your thigh to your jaw, his touch firm and gentle as he tilted your face closer to his.

“Like you want me to fuck you,” he murmured, his words hitting like a jolt of euphoria. 

A sly smile crept onto your lips, your eyelids growing heavier as the air between you thickened with tension. “You know that I do,” you replied, biting your bottom lip as your fingers traced a slow, invisible pattern over his chest.

A thought crossed your mind, bold and unbidden, and you let it spill.

“Y’know, last time I came to your apartment…”

“Yeah?” Heeseung prompted, his voice soft but loaded, his hands effortlessly guiding you to settle in his lap. You obliged with a grace that didn’t break the magnetic pull of your eyes locked on his, though they flickered occasionally to his kiss-bruised lips.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Hee.”

His lips curved into a soft smile, relief flickering across his features as your words unintentionally reassured him in ways you couldn’t have known he needed. His hands traced a comforting path along your hips, keeping you steady in his lap.

“I’m glad to hear that, darling.”

The term of endearment may have been simple to anyone else, but to you, it meant so much more. It sent your heart stumbling over its rhythm, your body instinctively leaning closer to his warmth. It made your breath hitch, especially when he leaned in as well, his words brushing against your lips like a gentle breeze.

“Let me remind you what you deserve,” his tone was intoxicatingly soft yet laced with a darker edge that tempted you to fall head-first into it. “How does that sound?”

Your lips quirked into a smirk as you cupped his face with deliberate tenderness, careful to avoid hurting him further.

“I know what I deserve, Hee,” you shot back, your voice daring as you teased his lips with a featherlight graze of your own. “And I also know what I want.”

Heeseung’s jaw clenched as he teetered on the edge of self-control, your provocations pushing him closer to the brink. But he played along, matching your game, because he loved your game.

“And what do you want, darling?” He asked back, a question that was dripping with anticipation.

Your eyes softened briefly with a mix of affection and unrelenting desire before you let the fire in your gaze take over.

“More.”

[nana-gumi]

I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR ANGST SM, WELL WRITTEN ISTG!! as one of my favorite angst writer, i had this idea in my mind for a long time. imagine you found out that you're 12 weeks pregnant and you were too excited to surprise satoru about it but when he came home, he broke the news that he got his ex pregnant. he was cheating and the surprise slipped out of your mind and you got angry at him and led into an argument... YOU CAN CONTINUE IF YOU WANT. I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW OR WHAT ENDING YOU'LL WRITE. and also, make it a very very angst 😋

anyway, don't be a stranger g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, infidelity, pregnancy, illness, mentions of death, cremation, as usual not proofread hehe

a/n: YOU ASKED FOR THIS OKAY?? anyways, happy reading :p

next

it was positive.

the moment you saw two red lines from the pregnancy test you bought, you didn't know what to feel at first, you were in disbelief so you tried it for the second, and third time, but the results did not change at all so you took this as a cue to visit a doctor, and there was no doubt in it, it was revealed that you were 12 weeks pregnant.

how should you tell your husband? satoru was barely home from his work after all. you knew how hard it is to be a new company's head so you understand him.

and so you dialed satoru's number as you nervously bit your bottom lip. he answered at the fifth ring.

"hello?"

"satoru–" you paused, and a small smile made its way on your lips. "can you come home, tonight? are you busy?"

"uh, not really." he sounded unsure but you didn't even noticed it on how excited you were.

"can you come home tonight, please?" you repeated.

"alright." he said as you heard him sigh from the other line "i– wanted to tell you something." he said and satoru's tone was unrecognizable, it was like his voice was slightly shaking.

"okay?" you worriedly said. "see you later, satoru. i love youuu."

"mhm, i love you too."

-

if someone would see you right now, they would, in an instant, notice that you were celebrating something special. you sure were prepared for satoru's return, you even wore nice dress and a cardigan as you await for his arrival.

and here he comes.

satoru enters the door and saw you approaching him.

"welcome home." you said as you leaned your face his chest followed by a kiss on his cheek. it was unusual on how he didn't return your advances as he walked past you.

his gloomy approach was affecting you as you placed a concerning hand on his shoulder, the surprise you prepared for him suddenly slipping out of your mind.

"what's wrong, honey?" you asked as you felt him tense up.

"you know i love you, right?" he said, and you thought you've read those words from a book before. you just hoped that the words he would say next wouldn't hurt you as much as the words on the book did.

you hummed in response as satoru turned to face you.

"i'm really sorry, my love. please forgive me."

"satoru, what's wrong? why are you– i'm scared." you said as satoru face palmed, his own body giving up as he was forced to sit down on the couch as he opened his mouth to speak and..

what was he saying? you sure you've heard it but, it sounds muffled when it entered your ears.

"i'm so sorry." he said as he stood up, embracing you as tight as he could so you wouldn't have a chance to step away from him.

"how long?" you muttered and satoru wasn't familiar with the tone of your voice. he didn't respond and it made your blood boil as you pushed him. "i asked how long!" you yelled.

"4 months."

"4 months?! 4 fucking months and you're just informing me about it right now? is that why you're not always home?!" you were screaming at this point and satoru tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to draw back.

"i already cut off ties with her! please believe me."

"satoru, you got someone pregnant! do you want the child to grow up without a father?" you exclaimed as you released a heavy sigh.

"it was just a mistake, we were drunk." satoru said as he embraced you.

-

"are you sure you'd let me attend the reunion?"

"yup, why? don't you want to?" you said as you fixed his tie.

"my ex is going to be there, though." he said and out of all the reactions he could get from you, he didn't expect you to smile at him as you pinch his nose.

"i trust you, satoru. i already did the moment we exchanged vows."

-

satoru was sure that the trust you had for him was already gone by now.

"take responsibility, satoru." you said as you push him by his chest.

"i love you so so so much, (name). please, i can't live without you."

"satoru, you can't just have me around while raising a child with another woman! what would people say?"

"like i told you, i already cut off ties with her."

"i know how it feels to grow up without a father, satoru." you mumbled as you look down on the ground. "it'll be fine. i'll manage, somehow."

"no–"

"why are you being stubborn!"

"you're being selfish!" he exclaimed as you gasp in surprise. selfish? you? how could he say that.

"you'll thank me someday, satoru." you mumbled.

"(name), please.."

"satoru. understand the situation." you weren't screaming anymore and.. why was he crying?

satoru took your hand on his as he placed it on his cheek and leaned on it, his tears stopping on your fingers and, you couldn't help but tear up as well.

"it'll be fine." you mumbled, voice breaking as you closed your eyes.

"i swear with all of my heart, that i love love love you. i'm sorry, forgive me. i didn't have enough courage to tell you sooner, because i was scared that it'll end up, like how it is now."

"it'll eventually come, you can't hide it from me forever, y'know." the storm was starting to calm as both of you spoke with hushed tones. "now go."

"let's talk about this one more time, please?" he mumbled as you slowly removed his hand on yours.

"then tell me, 'toru. what's there left for us to talk about?" you asked and satoru was, unfortunately quiet. "there's nothing, right?"

"love, please. i'm so sorry."

"what's done is done, satoru. we couldn't possibly go back in time and fix everything, right?"

"please." he whispered, hoping for something that he, himself doesn't even know what.

"i won't hate you for this, satoru. it's just– i hope you told me sooner."

"i'm so sorry. i'm grateful to have you as my wife, i'm sorry if i couldn't treat you like how you deserve it."

he really didn't deserve you. you were so understanding that satoru couldn't even look at you in the eyes.

"i'll say it as many times as i could. i love you. i didn't regret marrying you." he said as he cupped your tear stained cheeks and leaned his forehead on yours. "i don't really deserve you." satoru leaned in, kissing you and kissed back because both of you knew that, it was for the last time.

satoru left your apartment after settling things out. you fell on the couch as you felt something on the pocket of your cardigan.

"fuck." you muttered as you laughed bitterly, clutching the results in your hand, placing it close to your chest. you forgot the surprise and now that satoru have made up his mind, you knew there was no point on telling him anymore. grow up without a father, huh? now you're the one to talk.

a week has passed.

"hey." he acknowledged as he sat beside you inside the court.

"hey." you responded as you fiddle with your fingers. a gesture satoru noticed when you're uncomfortable. were you uncomfortable around him?

"how have you been?"

"i don't know." you said as satoru went silent.

"are you okay? let's stop this divorce if you–?"

"no, i just don't feel well."

"you can still change minds, y'know." satoru mumbled, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.

should you tell him? it was a chance, the only chance left before you and satoru have to separate ways. but as you recalled it, he mentioned that his supposed to be ex was 4 months pregnant and you were just on you were just on 12 weeks, equivalent to more or less than 2 months. it was her advantage.

"it'll be fine." you said as you sighed.

"you always say that."

-

"so, this is it?" you said as you stand across each other and satoru looked to his side and he was caught off guard when he felt you hold his hand, he took note of your cold hands.

you placed the wedding ring on his palms as you forced to close it.

"no." he said as he placed it back on you after removing his own ring. "i want you to keep it. for us." he said.

"okay." you said, turning around as you placed his ring and yours inside your bag.

"(name)." he called as you looked back. "i'm sorry i broke my promise, to have a happy family with you." he said and you wanted to tear up but you reminded yourself that it's not the right time to as you smiled at him.

"find me in another life then we can have a happy family there." you joked as both of you laughed.

is it normal to be like this with each other as if satoru hadn't just got his ex pregnant? as if both of you just haven't came out of the court after signing the divorce papers?

"i'll come and visit when i can." he said, and you hoped he would keep his words this time.

"okay."

"for the last time. i love you." you do too, but this time, you didn't say it back anymore.

"don't you think sanyu is a good name for our child?" satoru said as you look up at him.

"do you want to have one?"

"i'd love to have a happy family with you."

"is that so? but why sanyu?"

"sanyu means happiness. it means we are happy that we have him." he said as you chuckled in response.

"and how are you so sure that it would be a boy?"

"instincts."

-

his instincts was right. you had a son with him and you named him sanyu.

unfortunately, when sanyu turned a year of age, it was found that he had a very weak heart. there wasn't a day where you and your son doesn't visit a hospital. he was just a kid but they already wanted to take him away from you.

"mama." sanyu called. there were a lot of tubes that was connecting his body and it hurts to see your son suffer like this. you always hoped that it was you suffering instead of sanyu.

"yes?" you responded as you sat on the nearby chair.

"papa? where?" he curiously asked and your heart couldn't hurt more. you were lying to your child all this time, that his father was not around because of his job. you'll have to explain it to him when he grows up though.

you held sanyu's hand on yours as you softly caress it.

"papa's not here. he's very very busy!" you said as sanyu frowned. "don't worry, papa will see you soon, okay?"

"okay. love love mama, papa."

-

you bit your bottom lip as you stared at your contacts. your eyes switching from the phone to the surroundings as you slowly became anxious.

his contact was still in your emergency. you took a deep breath but in the end, you just couldn't dial his number, proceeding to call the person below his contact as you place the speaker close to your ear.

"hello?" you said as you heard a small gasp from the other side of the phone.

"hey, how are you? we haven't seen you since."

"i'm doing fine, thank you for asking, geto."

"what's the matter? why'd you call all of the sudden?"

"satoru." you said as you paused, gathering some courage left in you. "um, how is he?"

"well– he's doing good."

"he is, huh?" you mumbled. "can i ask you a favor, please?"

"of course. is it about satoru?"

"kind of?"

"alright, but satoru's a very busy man now, that's why it's gonna be hard to contact him these days."

oh.

"don't worry, it's not about that. can you– can you come here at the hospital? i'll send you the address and explain it to you later."

-

suguru arrived earlier than you expected it to.

"i'm sorry for calling out of the blue." you said as you approached him on the front desk.

"it's fine." suguru said as he shrugged. "why here at the hospital? are you sick?"

"i'm not. come, follow me." you said and suguru silently obliged as you finally stopped at a certain door. suguru noticed your discomfort as you slowly opened the door.

"mama!"

"hi baby. i brought someone." you said as you approached your son.

"what?" suguru mumbled in disbelief and he was left frozen on the door, his eyes widening. it was like a child version of satoru was infront of him.

"papa?" sanyu asked as he tilted his head to the side.

"i'm sorry, sanyu. i can only bring papa's friend." you said, your heart aching as your son frowned.

"sanyu?" suguru asked as he approached the two of you.

"i'm sanyu!" your son exclaimed and once again, suguru could only sigh in disbelief.

-

"how old is sanyu?" suguru asked when both of you left the room to grab a drink outside.

"he's 4 years old."

"does satoru know?"

"no."

"then tell him." easier said than done.

"you know i can't." you mumbled. "the favor–" you said as you faced suguru. "can you tell sanyu about his father? i just couldn't.." you mumbled as you played the can of the drink with your thumb.

"alright." suguru said and you smiled at him in return.

"thank you so much. it's just.. the doctors said he doesn't have enough time to–" you paused as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. "sorry for asking you this, geto. you are the closest to satoru, that's why."

"i understand, don't worry about it too much."

"i just couldn't tell satoru. i want sanyu to know what he wants to know. i couldn't tell him because i'm scared that i'll tear up once i mention his father to him. they said sanyu's running out of time.. i don't know– i'll just have to accept it nonetheless." suguru looked at you in pity as he embraced you.

"don't think about it, okay? sanyu will live and so satoru will know about it. i'll help you with it, 'kay?"

"okay, thank you.."

-

"you look like your papa."

"really?!" sanyu exclaimed happily as suguru hummed in response. "mama said papa is busy.."

"it's true, that's why i am here to tell you about your papa." sanyu looked at suguru hesitantly as he proceeded to ask a question.

"hmm.. is my papa good?" sanyu asked as suguru looked at you.

"he is. and he loves your mama so much."

"then why is he always busy?"

"sanyu." you called him, indicating to not ask those type of questions as he frowned.

and so sanyu asked a lot of things about his papa like what's his favorite color, favorite food, what he hates the most and many more, and you were thankful that suguru was there to answer it all when you couldn't.

-

"thank you, geto. i somehow feel at ease now."

"why don't you tell satoru about this?" suguru said as you started to zone out. should you? or should you not?

part of you believes that satoru has the right to know but part of you doubts it. satoru have a family now, a family without you. how would people think if they found out the owner of the famous company has a son from another woman?

you were once married to satoru, it was a mistake to let him take responsibility of his ex' pregnancy but, she was already at her 4 months of pregnancy while you're on your 12 weeks, she's clearly at the advantage.

"i'll try." you said as you embraced yourself for warmth.

"he's free around this time every thursdays." suguru said and you only nodded at his words.

satoru was on his way to his office and he thought he caught a glimpse of you and, he wasn't wrong, it was really you.

"(name)?" you were startled at the voice as you placed your phone behind you.

"gojo–"

"i hate it when you call me that. call me satoru." he said, frowning at you as you laughed nervously. "you look tired. what's–"

get straight to the point.

"are you busy?" you asked, cutting him off.

"well.." he placed his palm on his nape as he looked behind your shoulders.

"dad!" a voice called as a kid you haven't saw in your life appeared beside him. "what's taking you so long? mom's waiting."

"i'm sorry (name)."

"no, it's fine." you said, smiling at him and satoru knew better than anyone that your smile was forced.

"who's she, dad?" the kid asked. this must be satoru's child.

"an old friend, sanyu." satoru said as he looked at you and he wonders what made you look surprised. "go ahead first, i'll follow after you." he said as his son started to walk away.

"sanyu, huh?" you said as you looked behind his son's retreating figure.

"yeah. sorry about that." satoru said.

"why?"

"i don't know. but it was supposed to be our son's name."

"that's all in the past now." you didn't mean to sound harsh but something just hurts.

"right."

"i'll take my leave then." you said, every step you take makes your heart ache as an apology for you son slipped out of your mind.

"(name)." he called once again as you stopped in your tracks but you didn't face him.

"you were right when you said i'll thank you someday." he mumbled and you knew very well that he was smiling as you gulped the lump in your throat. "so thank you. i am the happiest father, ever. even if–" he paused and you didn't respond. it was like he was rubbing a salt in your wound as you heard him sigh. "see you then." he said as you felt his hand on your shoulder for a moment before his footsteps disappeared, and then you took your leave after, going back to your son, who was waiting for your arrival.

but, why was this happening to you? of all people?

"hold onto mama's hand, mhm?"

"mama, sorry."

"mama's sorry too, i promised that you'll see papa but–" sanyu shake his head, something like disagreeing to your apologies.

"it's okay, mama." sanyu mumbled, the sound of the monitor beeping slowing down as you hold onto his hand tight. this happened before already, he will get back to normal soon, you were sure.

"mama loves sanyu, papa too. always remember that, okay?"

-

"hey (name)!" suguru called from the distance as he approached you. "what are you doing outside? oh by the way, i was wondering if i can bring shoko too? she would be delighted to see a carbon copy of satoru." suguru chuckled but he noticed that you were quiet, your hand was between your thighs as you stare at the ground.

the door opening caught your attention as the doctor came out after what it seemed like a year as he slowly shake his head left to right.

"i'm sorry ms. (name) but your son didn't make it."

"but you said he'll be fine! i am paying enough why couldn't you–!"

"i'm very sorry. we already did what we can." you were about to start an argument when you felt a hand on your shoulders and the doctor bowed at you before leaving.

and it all came crashing down as your body lost its strength, unintentionally leaning on someone, which was suguru.

"what am i supposed to do now?" you asked, the emotions you've been keeping all this time was starting to go out, all at once. "sanyu's all i have." you didn't even care if people watch as they walk pass by. "what should i do now, satoru?" you mumbled, voice breaking as you call the name of the person that wasn't even around.

-

"my condolences, (name)." suguru had managed to calm you down as he handed you a bottled water and sat beside you.

"i've decided to cremate sanyu. it hurts but it'll be for the best so.. so i could keep him near me." you said.

"i'll support your decision but i think you should tell satoru about it."

"no." you said, your tone was strict but it was quick to dissipate as you clutched the bottle in your hand. "i went to his workplace yesterday."

"what happened?" suguru asked.

"his son's name is sanyu too. i'm guessing you know it?" you asked as his breath hitched silenty.

"yeah." he mumbled.

"well, it was the name he wanted when we were still planning." you mumbled as you smiled at the memory. "geto, i trust you not to tell anyone about this. it's just you and me who know this, okay?"

"i'm sorry but–" suguru paused. "i told shoko about it." you were surprised at first as you sighed at him.

"it's fine. i trust shoko too."

"yeah, sorry about that but– i was really hoping that you tell satoru about it because–"

"there's no need. thank you for telling my child everything he wanted to know, geto. i owe you."

"listen–"

"geto, as much as i am thankful for you, please understand that i don't want to hear things regarding satoru anymore." you said as suguru nods in response, feeling bad for pushing you when your still mourning for your lost and now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

[lillithsalvatore]

million dollar man

pairing: royal!jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

summary: the price of loving a million dollar man, a prince

warning: modern royal au!, mention of cheating, angst, minor dni, cursing, asshole jace (?), cried. like and reblog are appreciated!! my 1st imagine, please be nice!!

---

"Did you fuck her, Jace? Answer me!" you demanded your soon-to-be-husband, your voice trembling with anger as you stared at Jace, eyes burning with rage. In your hand was a newspaper from a well-known publication, which you held up in front of him. A news about him with his 'childhood bestfriend'

When Jace finally confessed, nearly shouting, "Once, just once, and I fucking regreted it" your heart tightened. His admission felt like a powerful blow to the trust and pride you had invested in him. Your anger intensified, but beneath it all, a deep sadness began to take hold of your mind.

"Once?" You gave a bitter smile. "Even once is fucking enough to destroy everything we had, Jace."

Jace looked at you with regretful eyes, but that only made you feel more exhausted. "Do you know? I trusted you more than I trusted myself. And you betrayed that trust for a moment of weakness."

"Y/n…" Jace began, trying to approach you, but you raised your hand to stop him.

"Don't!" you choked out, but your voice remained firm. "Don't make this worse Jace”

You took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "I loved you sincerely, but love cannot continue when trust has been shattered."

Finally, you turned away, heading toward the door,

"I hope you never make anyone else feel the way I did."

Jace stood there, frozen, feeling the pain in every word you spoke. He realized that you were not just angry about the betrayal, but also about feeling disregarded, pushed aside in a relationship where you had poured all your heart and soul.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, —" Jace said, his voice trembling, but you couldn't bear to hear any more. Apologies at this point only deepened the pain.

"Don't apologize, Jace," you replied, your voice breaking with sobs. "Sorry doesn't change anything. You chose her over me, It's always been her, Jace."

You could feel Jace's hand still holding yours, but now, that warmth no longer provided the comfort it once did. Instead, it only reminded you of the times he wasn't there for you, when he chose to protect someone else over you.

“Please don’t do this, please let me fix it” He begged

"I tried so hard, Jace. I gave you everything I had, but you chose her, even if you didn't realize it," you said, your voice now filled with nothing but exhaustion and despair.

Jace didn't know what to do, what to say to fix his mistake. He could feel everything between you falling apart, piece by piece, with no way to put it back together.

"Y/n, I—" Jace started, but you interrupted him, pulling your hand out of his grasp.

"I can't stay here anymore, Jace. I can't keep going like this. I guess that's the price of loving a million dollar man."

"And I giving this ring back to you, I hope you'll find someone who deserve it" You turned away, moving towards the door, trying to leave this suffocating space before your heart completely shattered.

Before opening the door, you looked back at Jace one last time, hoping he would understand what you couldn't put into words: that you had loved him deeply, but you couldn't stay with someone who no longer belonged to you.

And then, you walked out of the apartment. As the door closed behind you, you felt a profound sadness but also a sense of relief, as if a great burden had been lifted. The tears had dried up, leaving a void in your heart, but it was a necessary emptiness, allowing you to move forward, to find yourself again and rebuild your life from the ruins.

And though the pain was immense, you knew you had done the right thing. You chose yourself

Jace might realize his mistake, but it was too late. The love and trust you had given him were no longer intact. Now, you had to seek happiness for yourself, a happiness unbound by emotional scars.

And so, you moved on, looking toward the future, knowing you deserved a true love, a love that would never betray you.

[lovetei]

Hiii! I’m that person that request the “them finding out that MC is married to Solomon” and i wanna add one more thing if u don’t mind! And i can’t stop thinking about it

So after married to Solomon for too long MC is able to chow down his cooking with ease. His cooking doesn’t make them passed out anymore, doesn’t send them in the past anymore, and it actually tastes good…?

They would be the saviour whenever Solomon brought his cooking to the HoL

Tumblr decided to fuck with me but I ain't no bitch so yeah, here's your long delayed request :')

--------------------------------------------------

Their reaction to finding out MC is Solomon's spouse and they find his cooking edible

Warning: Shenanigans, grammar error, spelling error, no proofreading, Consists of three parts, readers gender is not mentioned

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------

SOLOMON'S SPOUSE...

LUCIFER who knows about his spouse but doesn't know who it is and whose faces turn sour whenever he would flirt with you because he seems to forget he has a spouse.

MAMMON who rolls his eyes whenever Solomon proudly mentions his spouse while having an arm around you and continues to tell him off saying he should be loyal.

LEVIATHAN that doesn't want to get close to him and doesn't want you close to him because he cheats on his spouse when the two of them are not together.

SATAN that tried consoling Solomon about how he treats you and if he remembers he has a spouse. Oh how his anger boiled when he said, they won't mind. They're used to it.

ASMODEUS who knows he flirts with Solomon and knows about his spouse but he can't help but feel dirty now and then knowing his spouse might be crying.

BEELZEBUB who refused to talk with Solomon and kept on telling you to keep your distance with Solomon and stay close to him because Solomon is shady.

BELPHEGOR who would pull you away without any warning and tell you that he's a married man, telling you that it would be better to stay close to him or else you'll commit sins.

SOLOMON'S SPOUSE?!

What the fuck do you mean you're actually his spouse?! Is all LUCIFER can think about after you declared to everyone that you two are actually, legally married.

MAMMON whose mouth hanged open as soon as he heard the news but immediately tried to assert dominance by saying he marked you up first and saying he's your first man.

A tear almost fucking dropped from the eyes of the LEVIATHAN as soon the news reached his ears. He would lock himself in his room for a few days out of pure shock.

SATAN swears to burn everything breathing if anything will even get close to him knowing how angry he is that his lover is actually married and he's the other man.

While everyone is furious, ASMODEUS couldn't get any happier knowing that two of his favorite humans are married, knowing that he can be the first demon in the relationship!

BEELZEBUB who lost his appetite through out the week because of pure sadness and shock. How come you couldn't tell them this important information MC?

BELPHEGOR who almost jumped out of his bed, a knife in his hand, ready to kill the sorcerer on sight as soon as he found out about the marriage papers with your and his signature in it.

SOLOMON'S SPOUSE!

Christ in a stick, that looks fucking horrendous is all LUCIFER could think as he looks at the food Solomon wants him to eat but luckily MC grabbed it out and ate it for him. He can't even think straight anymore after smelling that...

He fucked you up didn't he?! Is what MAMMON thought as soon as you ate his portion of Solomon's food, even saying how it can taste good as time passes by.

The way LEVIATHAN would sit beside you, whispering requests for you to eat it for him instead because you're the spouse! You're suppose to like his cooking right?

SATAN who said that the spouse should get more of the portion because the husband's hardworking should not be wasted to someone like him and proceeds to push his portion to you.

ASMODEUS who even spoon fed you his portion of Solomon's food saying that you'll need more energy to tend and care for two husband's now!

BEELZEBUB who got even more sad because how can you get used to eating this nuclear waste, another reason to add to his protest on why you should break up with him.

He doesn't care, BELPHEGOR will eat it for the sake of that hospital record he will soon add to the annulment protest with the reason of maltreatment and attempted murder.

[dilfscvm]

Fitzgerald Grant x Female! Reader

Hi! This is my own work, I wrote it and I much don't like to have it posted in other social media flatforms without my permission.

WARNINGS : This contains smut, if you don't like such content please skip it and don't read it. Vulgar words has been used also. Do excuse my grammatical errors and typos, correct me nicely or else I'll block block you. English is not my first language:)) Enjoy reading!<33

Special thanks to the owner of this gif<3

“I told you to stay away from him!” Fitz yells at you, he's in the pit of rage and you know you just crossed the line.

Making him jealous because you wanted to make him pay at what he did to you a week ago. He thought you got over it, but looks like his naughty wife has a better plan. And that is to make him angry. What's on his mind right now?

I'll get you bend over this dining table, fuck you and breed you.

That's what his brain tells him to do. You're his property, you're his and he doesn't like to share. And you absolutely knew it. That's why you make everything on planned.

"I'm sorry, but you really need to stop working." Fitz firmly stated, you're shocked at his sudden statement.

"W-what?" you scoffed.

"I said... I want you to stop working." he repeats as he slowly strode over you, like a lion ready to attack its prey. His eyes tells he craves. You stumped in front of him, face to face, nose almost touched. Eyes raged.

"I. Won't. Stop. Working." you said what is to be said, "I love my work, Fitz, I love working as a professor and you know how much I love my work and you can't just barge here in my office to tell me to resign and stay with you at the white house and fulfill my duty as a first lady. How did you get in here anyways?"

"You don't need to know how I get here, what you need to do is to get all your things and sign these resignation papers and let's go at the white House." his frown deepen, but you can see his eyes averting from your eyes to your lips, his breathing getting heavy as you argue with him.

"I won't resign just because you're jealous of my colleague who haven't done anything but to do his job." you continued. He scoff, he backs away a little shaking his head.

"Believe me, you will." and that's the last thing he said before he walks out your office. You stared at the door where he just walked out of, jaw drop, can't believe that your husband can do such things.

Well he's the president of the United States after all.

You're at his birthday party, talking with some guests. Not paying attention at your husband who's been such a attention seeker for you.

Since he made you sign those resignation letter you give him silent treatment that he deserves. He can't just manipulate you just because he's jealous.

“Dance with me?” you heard a voice from your back making you turn around. It's your colleague, the man Fitz don't ever want to see.

“Well why not.” you giggle and took his hand that been waiting for you to take.

You wanted him here. His name is Race, and he's a colleague, a married man but it's a private marriage. Fitz were a fool, he doesn't even let you explain it, and now, you will take advantage of it.

Race lead you to the dance floor where there's already some people who's dancing, including your husband who's with a old lady which you can recognise as the 40th president's wife.

Well watch me turn the tables around, darling.

“So, I bet he still doesn't know.” he smiled at you which you returned with a naughty smirk.

“This is a lesson, he has been fooling himself. You know that I would never cheat on him, I love him too much to break his heart.” you factly stated. He sighs as he slowly sway you, syncing with the music.

“I know that you cheeky minx.” he whisper that makes you both laugh together.

Both of you continued to dance and talk about random things up until Fitz finally notice, well actually you've seen him, he got his eyes on you. Watching you dance with the man he despise right now, and all he wanted to do were to yank you off him and take you right in front of everybody, specially him. You're playing with fire.

“Ma'am if you'll excuse me.” he politely smiles at the woman who nods with a smile. As soon as he turns around, his face contorts into a deep frown, raging eyes glued at you.

He walks with power, greeting every person he walk pass with a smile then immediately turns back into a frown as soon as he looks at you.

“I think that would be great, I like it and I know-”

“Mind if I steal my wife for a while?” firm, and low husky voice. Fitz says as he folds his arms across his chest. His face shows it all. Anger, rage, jealousy... Lust.

Well you were about to say that you like race's idea to surprise his wife for her birthday.

“Why sure, Mr. President.” race politely agrees as he smiled at the man, not paying attention to fitz's face, looking like he's ready to punch him.

Fitz did not waste anymore time as he possessively pull you away from him by your waist. He then pressed his lips on yours, taking you by surprise. Race sealed his lips containing his evil grin. Success.

You on the other hand, didn't give what Fitz wants. You did not kiss him back making him pull inches away from your lips.

“You like him don't you?” Fitz slowly said. You stared at him, slowly, a smile formed in your lips, mocking him. You know it makes him more hungry for you, and you like every bit of it.

Knowing your husband, he loves you so much, he's a very territorial, possessive, and obsessive at you. Well because you're his wife, and he needs you to know it.

“I love you.” you smiled at him. He'll say it back. No matter how he's mad at you. You know he will.

“I...love you too.” he whisper, as he look down on your lips, almost looks ashamed. I know you too well.

“Dining room.” you whisper at him before pulling away to walk out of the room.

“What?” he asks confusedly. His brows knitted, his signature look. You smiled evily, seductively bit your lower lip as you said;

“I know you like it anywhere, baby.”

Fitz is a kinky man, you must declare.

A knowing smirk were now plastered on his face making you giggle.

“Meet you there, baby!” you turned around and walk off.

Did he waste more time? Of course he didn't. He quickly walk off the room full of guest and walk towards dining room, where you waited there. Wearing nothing but a pair of black lingerie and a black stocking.

“Y/N-” his breath caught above his lungs as the view in front of him completely astonished him. “What's all of these?” he asks, as his eyes continue to hungrily Starr at your body up and down.

You hop ontop of the table and crossed your legs. He slowly walk towards you.

“A lesson.” you simply said when he's already standing right in front of you and tries to open your legs.

“A lesson for what?” he looks confused. You smirk and parted your legs, you hooked him with your legs on his hips and forcely pull him using it.

You put a finger on his lips and it just parted for you, “You know what you've done, Fitz, and now I'll teach you.. A.. Lesson.” you lean closer to him, he thought you will kiss him, so he lean forward to reach your lips but you pull back. “Ah, ah, darling... You need to be taught and punished—”

“Screw you.” that's all he got to say before he slam his lips on you, you tried to pull away but you're too intoxicated at his taste and scent. He kissed you hungrily, both hands on either side of your cheeks. Both with heavy breathings, both were panting, and moaning in each others mouths, as their tounge collide, exploring the insides of it adding more heat down your womanhood.

Fitz grab ahold of your stockings and rip it apart making you gasp into his mouth. But keep on kissing him still anyways. He pushed your legs more apart and start to kiss your neck. His hands were now roaming you body, specially down your area.

“F-fuck, Fitz.” you moaned as his kiss went down your cleavage, to your stomach up until he reached where you wanted him to be. He place a kiss on your lingerie, as his eyes stilled on yours.

“You can't punish me. I will punish you... For being such a brat, for ignoring me, for teasing me, you think you'll get away with it? Think again...” he snarled. You scoff at him. He just smirked. That devil smirk he always does when you both on bed. It turns you on.

“Fuck you.” you smile and press your lips on his kissing him ever so roughly as your hand went to his belt and undo it. He slapped your hand away and grab a hold of your ass and yank you off the table and put you on your feet as he turn you around, panting as he retrieve his breath, as well as you. He continue to kiss on your neck as he unbuckle his belt and push his pants down.

“Fuck you, you mean.” he chuckles, he ripped your panties and thrown it on the floor leaving you gasping. There's nothing can make you more turned on than you are now.

He latched his lips again on your neck as you grab ahold of his head pushing him more to it, moaning as you did. Fitz let his mouth open while he teased your hole with the tip of his enormous cock. Confusedly you is when he put his hand tightly on your mouth, but it didn't take long when he rams his cock inside of you with a guttural groan, trying to contain his own sounds.

You swear if he hadn't covered your mouth, you would scream. You never got used to his cock, up until now.

“I will never get tired fucking this sweet, tight pussy of yours, Y/N.” he whisper erotically in your ear, while you left there moaning in his palm, grinding your hips with his as he thrust slow but you can feel the roughness.

“Now tell me, my sweet, does teasing me satisfy you?” he asks as he slowly fastening his thrust, breathing were getting more heavier. You shook your head. “Liar.” he grunts, he let's go of your lips and push you down the table, making you lay your front to it as he grab onto your hips and continue his bruising pace. He pause a little when you began to moan, as much as he wanted to hear it, you must minimise your moans so no guest will get traumatised, “Please do be quiet for me, sweetheart, there's people outside. I don't want them knowing I'm screwing my bratty wife while I have party to be at. Wouldn't want to look disrespectful yeah?” he whispers at your ears. You only nodded, panting. “Good.” he smirk before he bit your ear gently. He then suddenly pushed in roughly making you squeal and him shushing you.

Fitz won't let you dominate him, we'll at least not now. He doesn't have much time for you to tease and edge him. But he will let you do that later, when no one's in the house.

He spread your ass to watch his harden cock penetrate your wet cunt, he couldn't help but whimper looking at the beautiful view. He sure is won't ever get enough of you.

No one can ever make his cock this alive, only you, his wife. You always turn him on even in small things you do. Like the way you walk, you talk, your smell, he gets turned on easily, if it's you who'll make him.

“Fuck, Fitz, I'm close.” you quietly moan, Fitz was too lost in pleasure. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pull you against his chest as he thrust up to help you cum for him. He's nearing, as much as he doesn't want this to end, he has visitors to entertain.

“Darling, I'm gonna cum.” he whisper against your skin. His eyes closed, mouth open, eyebrows were knitted, pleasure takes over him. “I know you want to cum too. Cum hof me.” he place a kiss on your neck.

“Fitz..” you moan, almost out of breath. His hand went to your breast and squeeze it tightly as he left his other arm wrapped around your waist. “Ah! Fuck!” your walls clamped around his cock that enough to edge him, and leave him moaning as you cum.

“Oh God, you feel so good.” he groans through gritted teeth. He continues to thrust in you as he breed you, filling you with his cum—wait he breeds you?!

“Fitz!” you yell at him. He frowned at you.

“W-what?” he says panting.

“You finished in me!”

Not to be rude but you both talked about having another baby and he said it's not the right time yet to have another one, and you agreed with it.

“So?” he asks confusedly. He's still inside of you, still thrusting very slowly as he just reached his climax. “You're my wife, I have the rights to do so.” he said, he slowly pulls away making you bite your lip. You turn around to face him.

“Yeah, but I thought you don't want another baby yet?” you ask, he sighs and pull you closer to him as he wrap his arms around your hips.

“Jerry's not a baby anymore, he's four—well he'll still remain our baby but I miss having a small human in my arms,” he chuckles. He place a hand on your cheek, a finger in your lips and continues; “I want to have another baby, I know that you also want another but I choosed to deny you. I'm sorry.” he whisper, your eyes were glistening as he rub your cheeks.

“Thank you, and I love you.” you smiled at him, which he returns.

“I love you too.” he says back with a chuckle. You giggle and tiptoed his lips. Kissing him deeply and passionately.

It didn't last long when he lift you up again and sat you on the table before he push you on your back. He pulls away with a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Fitz!” you giggle when he pulls a chair and sat on it before he pulls you by your tighs to the edge of the table. He smirk at you making you part your lips.

“What? I'm hungry.” he teasingly said before burying his head between your tighs leaving you breathless as you throw your head at the back, moaning as you did.

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Disgusting comments of a sexual nature. Let me know if I missed any!

Chapter 1 -- Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Your mother rushes into your room, followed by her many assistants. "It's today," she tells you. You give her a confused look and she rolls her eyes. "The marriage. It's happening today so you'd best dress up. My ladies will do your hair and makeup so you can look somewhat decent for your new husband."

"Yes, mother," is all you can say. Any attempts at pointing out you'd had no notice would be futile. And should you dare try to state a preference in your looks it would be immediately dismissed, paired with an insult. Best to just comply and do as she says. You make sure to follow the instructions of the hair and makeup team. They have to put up with your mother, too, so you always try to be polite to them.

As soon as they finish your mother shoves you in front of a mirror. "There," she coos. "Don't you look so lovely?"

You think you look like a clown. Like a lesser copy of her. "Yes, mother. Thank you."

"Would have gotten you a better dress but you refused to lose weight," she sighs. You bite your tongue. The doctor said you were healthy, that should be enough. But not for her.

"Now," she continues, "we will be meeting your father and brother at the Jensen estate. Apparently they've already go the paperwork and notary crap sorted out. Remember to walk gracefully, be polite, and for the love of everything, smile. I don't need my daughter's wedding photos to look like a funeral had happened!"

"Yes, mother."

Jake is really trying to keep calm. His father, father-in-law and brother-in-law are all drinking to the "marriage" happening this afternoon. Apparently they're just waiting for the bride and her mother to finish getting ready. Jake is scared she's going to be just like his own mother: power hungry, demanding, backstabbing, cold. Meeting the bride's family has not helped assuage his concerns. If anything, it only further drives his conviction that he did the right thing, breaking his sister's engagement. The only thing keeping Jake calm is Clay's presence. Having an ally makes a world of difference.

Montgomery, his father-in-law, is already three drinks in. "And as a wedding gift to the happy couple, your father and I have purchased a penthouse and a car that you won't be embarrassed to be seen in."

"Are you ashamed to be seen in an American classic?" Clay raises an eyebrow.

"It's a pinto," Travis, the brother-in-law, scoffs.

"Exactly," Clay calmly says. "An American classic."

Travis rolls his eyes before turning to Jake, "I'm kinda disappointed you agreed to this thing. I was kinda hoping for that niece of yours. You know, once she turns 18. The young ones are so much easier to train."

Jake's gripping his glass so tightly his knuckles are white. He has to behave, it's in the contract. And punching his brother-in-law would not be behaving.

Thankfully Clay has his back. "Young man, you've got problems. I'm specifically talking in the bedroom, but I'm sure you've got plenty of problems outside as well. If you need some lessons on how to please a woman, I'm happy to give you some pointers."

Travis glowers at him but Clay just smirks.

A knock at the door breaks the tension in the room. An attendant comes in, "the bride is here."

The first time you see Jake, your heart falls. He looks angry, mean. You didn't have much hope about being treated well to begin with but this just solidified it.

The first time Jake sees you, his own heart does the same. You're the spitting image of your mother. He mentally prepares himself for a life of being scolded for never being enough, a life of being cheated on, a life without love.

The documents are signed and notarized. The fake smiles are pasted on for the photos. Jake is given the keys to both the penthouse and the car. Clay promises to meet them there, driving his pinto.

You and Jake sit silently in the car. Both wanting to cry.

Chapter 1 -- Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness;@ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[maleficient]

hi hii, can i get a sceanrio for reader who is hashirama's (whos out of town for whatever reason) wife with madara and tobirama who collectively decide to fuck her together and share her for the time being (maybe dubcon, like reader doesnt straight up agree but ends up sumbiting to them and lowkey enjoys it) haha sorry if its too much, hope you have a nice day

💋 yandere account; and thanks, you too :), sixth post. be safe.

threesome ; mentions of cheat ; tobirama x reader x madara ; +18 ; smut ; for obvious reasons mdni

;;;

At one point, you were still sobbing pathetically as you drank the tea Tobirama had passed you to soothe your hangover.

And then… well, you don’t know how it happened.

Well, you do know the problem is that you got drunk the night before, and for some reason you told your marital problems to your brother-in-law and your husband’s friend.

You moaned, feeling your legs shaking violently.

You knew this was wrong. Very wrong. You were married; you had a husband. So why did you allow it?

You choked on your brother-in-law Tobirama’s long cock as your husband’s best friend kept pushing his thick, fat cock into your sweet spot.

“That’s it…” Tobirama gasped as he carelessly wiped your tears away with one hand and held your hair in a messy bun with the other. “It’s foolish for my brother to not treat you like this.”

Madara’s large, strong hands gripped your hips tightly as he continued to thrust into your tight, wet core. You were close to your orgasm, but guilt was still eating away at you from within. Madara, it seemed, sensed your guilty emotions because in the next moment you felt a hard spank that made you jump and moan in surprise and tighten like a tourniquet around him. “Don’t you dare feel bad when the idiot cheats on you with that woman from the Uzumaki clan.” He growled; it could easily be deduced that he was upset with you for feeling guilty, but he was actually upset with your feelings of guilt.

From his point of view, if your husband didn’t respect you, you didn’t have to respect him. Madara panted as he shifted positions carelessly so he could hit your G-spot relentlessly. You moaned at the mixed emotions, causing Tobirama to throw his head back in ecstasy at the vibrations you caused on his cock. You knew your ‘husband’ had agreed to marriage with you as an agreement.

He didn’t love you. His heart belonged to another woman. You felt suffocated in your marriage.

So you sought solace with the people closest to you at the time. But you never thought you would end up in this obscene situation.

Your body — though sore — gladly accepted the stimulations it only received once on your honeymoon. It had been three years since your wedding.

You pulled away from Tobirama’s cock with a loud sucking sound so you could lick the drool and precum-covered tip, earning a satisfied grunt from the white-haired man.

“Do you want to cum, pretty thing?” Madara asked you in an angry voice. You only managed to moan out a hoarse “yes” as you continued to suck Tobirama’s cock like a desperate whore.

You could feel Madara’s body was shaking with desire. He was holding back, you realized. Didn’t he want to hurt you?

“Shit— if you were my woman, I wouldn’t stop fucking you.”

You moaned as you felt Madara’s cock rearrange your tiny insides; your pussy tightened as you felt him push even deeper. His thrusts became harder and faster; he was pulling out almost completely, only to slam back in his long, thick length, making you gasp.

Both men were taking you to that paradise of lust and pleasure, taking you away from your pitiful reality. Your blissful orgasm was getting closer, leaving you helpless against the intense emotions and sensations he was leaving in its wake.

Tobirama growled, not wanting you to forget to please him. His hands guided your head so that his cock was buried in your throat again as Madara lowered his hand, running over the soft skin of your stomach and belly, finally burying his calloused fingers in your pussy, finding your clit with relative ease.

You nearly choked on Tobirama’s cock. The quick, merciless circling strokes around your clit had you whimpering around your brother-in-law’s cock. Your cries, muffled by the cock in your throat, were like music to the two men.

Your spine arched, your breasts brushing against the sheets as your nipples touched the fabric, adding more stimulation, your ass rising upwards as your entire world exploded in that searing pleasure. Your eyebrows furrowed in utter ecstasy as you heard Tobirama let out a loud gasp before cumming in your throat without warning, nearly choking on his thick, somewhat bitter seed.

Almost as an apology, he gently pushed you away from his still somewhat hard cock that was glistening with your drool around it. You managed to see in the midst of your pleasure how a vein throbbed as some precum oozed out. You were getting horny just by seeing that. Madara's pace became wild as he was close to his climax, making you see stars from the roughness of his movements. Not even in your wildest dreams did you think you would enjoy being treated like a sex doll.

Your pussy enjoyed the overstimulation before Madara painted your velvet walls with his white fluids. Madara growled deeply as his balls emptied deep inside you.

Madara's hand that had been masturbating your pearl slid lazily down your spine, making you sigh.

The gasps of the three of you were the only thing heard in the room. You didn't know how to feel at the end of all this.

[heavenlyakin]

call it what you want

soulmate au, suguru geto x fem!reader, cheating (reader is married to kento nanami), reader has kids, cigarette smoking (suguru), angst, kento calls reader honey, and kento lifts reader up from the floor. 

wc: 3.2k

a/n: biggest shoutout to @meltedluck for brainstorming this with me and listening to me talk nonsensically over it. I appreciate you sm <3

–

He knew before you did. Of course he did, he didn’t have the distractions you do. No, they’re not distractions. They’re evidence that you have loved and will continue to love. That even without him, you will always have something to live for. Suguru knew the moment he saw you in the grocery store, wrangling one kid into the cart, while the other stood quietly beside you, holding onto the hem of your shirt. 

You didn’t see him then. How could you? You were busy and obviously hadn’t believed in soulmates. You’d married someone, had a family, probably fallen in love. 

You didn’t wait for him. 

You probably didn’t believe there was a him. 

He went home, leaving his basket of bread and some fruits he’d forgotten about behind. What had he done to deserve this? He wondered about it the entire walk home. Why had you not waited? Why had he waited? No answers came to him, nor would they. 

The next time, you saw him. Your eyes widen, the color so bright and beautiful, and so full of fear. 

You’d been wrong. You should have waited. 

Soulmates, while rare, were in fact true and you could find them. You’d found him. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but when he felt the timid tap on his shoulder, he had to turn around. The fear was still in your eyes as you began to speak. 

“Hi,” you said, so softly and carefully. Like he was something to be terrified of. Perhaps he was, to you. 

“Hello,” he smiled, not saying anything more. He wasn’t going to push you, despite every nerve in his body wishing he would do something with you. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go. I-” and before you finished your sentence you were gone. 

Suguru watched as you left, your hair bouncing behind you. He watched as you caught up with your husband, tall and blonde. Everything he wasn’t and will never be. However, it didn’t make him feel sad. You deserved that, you deserved everything you wanted and if it was not him, then so be it. 

He doesn’t yet know your name, but he does know you like to come to this side of town to shop and go out with your husband. If he wants to see you, he just has to wander around and hope you feel the same and want to see him again too. 

It isn’t that simple, he realizes after a few weeks. He has to work, he has to live, he can’t spend all his time waiting. He has to live too, after all. So he decides to do just that. 

The first night he’s out, with his friends from school, he sees you in the same bar. 

Alone. 

He can’t hear anything Satoru is saying to him. He can’t hear the music in the bar. He can’t hear anything at all. 

“Hold this,” Suguru passes his beer to Satoru and walks over to you. “Hi,” he says as casually as he can muster. 

“Hello,” you smile at him. “I’m sorry for the last time I saw you. I was… frightened,” you paused before saying the last word as if you weren’t sure what your emotions were and that word felt safe. 

“You never have to apologize to me. For anything.” 

“I didn’t believe my parents, you know. They are soulmates, but I thought that was just a joke growing up. None of my friends met theirs throughout school, their parents weren’t soulmates and often divorced. I just thought it was made up.” 

Suguru realized then that this wasn’t an apology at all, but a defense for what you’d done. It’s not like this isn’t something that happens regularly. Not everyone decides to wait until they find the one, if there is the one. 

“It’s okay,” he pushes his hair back from his face. “I don’t blame you. Nor am I angry with you. I couldn’t be if I tried.” He sits on the barstool beside you. 

“I just feel… silly. I shouldn’t be here. I should be home with my kids, but I had to see you again. At least just to have a conversation.” You shift in your seat, turning to face him. 

He takes you in, his eyes meeting yours and it’s like he’s never felt peace before now. 

“I’m glad you decided to come,” he places his hand on your knee, and you look away. He removes it and you turn back to him. 

“I should go. This wasn’t a good idea.” You slip off of the barstool and make way to the exit towards the front of the bar. 

He lets you go, for a moment. Then he sees Satoru looking a thim as if he’s the stupidest man to ever live. So he decides to chase after you. 

You haven’t gotten far, after all he’s the one running, not you. You’re standing outside the restaurant next to the bar when he sees you clearly. The street lights illuminate your face and hair, making it look shinier than in the bar. 

“I-I don’t know your name,” he says, taking your hand in his. “At least give me that.” 

“-----,” you tell him and he nods, letting your hand go. 

The crosswalk sign changes to walk, and he waits for you to cross, but you don’t. You stand still, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes. People pass, mumbling curses at you both for standing in the way, but Suguru doesn’t care. 

“I’m Suguru,” he tells you, and you smile. 

“Suguru,” his name sounds like a melody on your lips. “Nice to meet you.” 

You cross then, leaving him standing as the rain that’s been threatening to fall finally does. It sprinkles at first, but then it gets heavier and heavier. By the time you’re across the street, it’s pouring. He waves to you as you turn, watching as your smile fades from your face as you turn down the street and hurry off towards wherever you live. 

He accepts this, he knows you will be happy with your husband. Afterall, you looked happy when he saw you with him before. If you’re happy, he will be too. Even if it means a life without you. He can do that, he can manage. 

He doesn’t see you again after that, even though he looks for you everywhere he goes. You’re in all his dreams and all his thoughts. He imagines what life would have been like if he’d met you first, even though it does no good. 

When the doorbell rings, 4 months after the night at the bar, he doesn’t expect it to be you. When he sees you standing there, he pulls you into his arms before you can even say anything. Your arms wrap around his torso, fingers digging into his back as you hug him back. 

“Suguru,” you say, muffled against the shirt over his chest.”I couldn’t go without seeing you again.” You look up to him, eyes welling up. “I’m so sorry.” 

He kisses the top of your head, inhaling and taking in your scent. “I’m so happy you came.” 

With that, a series of visits began. He’d get to see you once, maybe twice a month. Never for long. Just an hour here, maybe two the next time. You had a life you had to get back to and couldn’t afford to risk more than the time you had already risked. 

However, Suguru began to get greedy. He knew it was unfair to you, but fuck, how was this fair to him? He deserved time with you, too. 

“Stay,” he said, holding you close and kissing your temple. 

You were still clinging to him after he’d prolonged sex for more than usual. You’d been here more than an hour now, and it was getting dark. He knows you can’t stay longer. But, that doesn’t stop him from asking. 

“I can’t,” you tell him and he sighs. 

“I know,” he kisses your temple again. “Can’t blame me for trying though can you?” 

“I need to go.” You tell him and he unwraps his arms from around you. 

While you dress, he watches you, reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. He lights the cigarette, inhaling slowly and then blowing the smoke out. 

“Those will kill you,” you tell him and he laughs. 

This is your routine with him. He smokes, you say it’ll kill him. Then he thinks to himself that he’d rather die from lung cancer than continue living like this, but he never says it. He will never do anything that would compromise your time with him. 

“When will I see you again?” He asks and you give him a sad look. You never know when the next time will be. 

As you leave, he stands in the entryway, leaning on the door frame as you walk down the walkway of his house and onto the busy street outside. Blending in with the crowd. As you go, he lights another cigarette, enjoying the crisp fall air. 

“Until next time,” he says to no one, letting the wind carry the sound away as he shuts the door. 

– 

You arrive home just as the sun sets over the horizon. Kento is cooking dinner when you walk in, dropping your work bag on the couch and then stepping into the kitchen. 

“Where are the girls?” You ask. 

“My mother still has them. They wanted to eat dinner with her,” he smiles, stirring the pot of soup on the stove. “They’ll be back after dinner. Are you hungry?” 

“Famished,” you answer and he turns around to look at you. 

Your husband has always been a kind and gentle man, someone you could always lean on for support. He likes to cook dinner for the family, rarely ever accepting your help. He does, however, let you clean up. He’s not fond of doing the dishes or laundry. He always sweeps and mops and takes care of the yard, though. It’s a perfect fit. 

Yet, you are risking ruining this peaceful harmony everytime you tell him you have to stay late at work and go to visit Suguru instead. You throw the last ten years of your life away and stomp on it with your pretty little heels that you know Suguru likes you to wear. 

“You shouldn’t let them keep you overtime so often,” Kento tells you, walking towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You feel sick as he does it. You just spent the last two hours with /suguru, letting him worship and love your body that your husband now touches. You’re ashamed of what you’ve become, but you know you cannot change it now. What’s done is done. 

Yet, now you can’t help but wonder if Kento has a soulmate out there somewhere. Selfish of you to imagine so, you think, but why wouldn’t he too? 

“I know, but we’re short on editors now that two retired. I have to pull my weight too.” You lie, knowing he’ll buy it. 

“I just worry about you,” he kisses the top of your head and you pull away. 

“I’m going to shower before dinner. Don’t feel like you have to wait on me.” You take your bag with you to your bedroom, placing it on the desk you use when you work from home and then strip down to shower any trace of Suguru off of you, as much as it hurts you to do so. 

The shower is anything but cleansing. Instead it’s a steaming hot punishment. You keep the water as hot as you can take it, your skin steaming when you step out. You dress into pajamas, slipping a robe on over top knowing it’s going to be chillier. As you step into your bedroom, you can hear the voices of your children outside in the living room with their father. 

“Mommy!” They both scream, running towards you as you open your bedroom door. 

“Hi babies,” you drop down to your knees so they can hug you at their level. “I’ve missed you all day,” at least you don’t have to lie to them. 

This is how it goes now, every evening the same. Even the ones when you spend time with Suguru. They become more and more, until you’re seeing him twice a week. Each time it’s harder to go, harder to face your husband, and harder to come up with excuses. 

Kento must know there can’t be that much work to edit. He has to know you aren’t spending all your time at your office when you used to have such a lax job. Yet, he says nothing. You say nothing. You just cook, clean, and care for your girls when you’re both home. It becomes the new normal. 

–

Kento knew something was happening with you. What? He wasn’t sure. He just knew three things. 

You were working late a lot. 

You always showered before bed now instead of in the mornings. 

You hadn’t had sex with him in four months, despite him trying to initiate it regularly. 

It began eating at him, nerve by nerve, minute by minute. Deciding to take the day off wasn’t something he normally did, but he couldn’t help himself now that he was suspicious something was wrong with you. 

Afterall, he had always taken such good care of you. He needed to make sure everything was alright, even if you didn’t want to tell him. He would find out the best he could. Even if that meant following you to work from a distance to make sure you made it safe. 

Which you did, you walked into the office and spoke with the secretary at the front desk. Once he saw you go up the elevator, he decided to camp out at the coffee house just across the street. With autumn in the air, he didn’t mind a warm drink and a pastry. 

He’d brought his laptop, so he could catch up on work if he absolutely needed to, but he found himself staring at the office across the street all day instead. He made it through 2 cups of coffee and 3 herbal teas before he saw you again, right at 5 o'clock. 

He smiles as he watches you, talking with a coworker he met a few times at holiday parties your office has thrown. You wave as she crosses the street, and he expects you to turn and make the trek home, but instead you head the opposite direction. 

He gets up from his table, crossing the street and following you. God, this is silly, he thinks to himself. He’s stalking his wife, someone he should trust above anyone else. Yet, he can’t stop himself. He follows you north, up towards the suburbs that are on the other side of town from where you and him reside. 

When he sees you open the gate of a home, he pauses. Why are you entering a random yard? Then his eyes advert to the left. A tall man with long dark hair stands at the doorway, opening his arms as you fall into them. Then it all clicks in his head. 

Perhaps you’d met your soulmate, because why else would you be cheating on him? He is not one to brag, but he knows what he brings to the table and the love you had for him for all these years. After all, he’d fallen in love with you and you’d given him the two biggest blessings in his life. 

Before he can watch you walk into another man’s home, he turns away. He heads back home, to wait for the girls to be dropped off. Today is their normal day with his mother, so they won’t be home until evening, but he doesn’t want to chance anything. 

When he gets home, he checks his phone, seeing the girls are asking to stay the night. He texts back that it’s fine and he’ll pick them up in the morning for daycare. Since there’s no one he needs to worry about for dinner, he calls in take out and then grabs the whiskey he keeps in the high cabinet above the fridge. 

The first sip burns as it runs down his throat, but the rest go down smooth. He sits on the recliner in the corner of the living room, not even bothering to turn on the television. He does eat when the food comes, cleans up, puts the leftovers in the fridge, then takes his seat again. 

It’s nearly 9pm when you come through the door. 

“Hey,” you say softly, smoothing your hair back. 

Kento knows that look on you, the “I just got fucked but I need to look presentable” look. He’d seen it all so many times, especially when you were trying for your second child. Had you loved him like you love this new strange man? 

Instead of replying, he raises the whiskey glass to you. 

You frown, dropping down onto the couch. “No dinner? Where are the girls?” 

He laughs, just a chuckle. “With my mom. They wanted to stay the night.” 

“Oh, I hope they have fun then. I’m going to shower.” 

“Of course,” he knows you must smell like him. You probably have for months now, and he’s just not noticed. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask, fear creeping in your voice and in your eyes. That’s when he notices the smudged makeup around your eyes and lips and he can’t take it anymore. 

His eyes well up, and he takes a long sip of his drink, finishing the glass. He pours himself another one, and you scoot closer to him on the couch. 

“Kento, I-”

“Are you happy?” He asks and you nod. 

Of course you do. Of course you’re happy, but it’s just not with him. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He asks, his voice breaking as he sees you start to cry. 

“I don’t know. I’m so sorry, Kento..” you drop to the floor in front of him, holding your head in your hands. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop right now and we can go back to how it was.” 

“Honey,” he says softly, putting the drink down and bending over to put his hand on your shoulder. “There is no going back to how it was after this.” He gestures with his hand between the two of you. “When did I stop being enough?” 

Afterall, you are everything to him. He didn’t know if he had a soulmate, but he had thought if they were real that you had been made for him. He’d been wrong. So very wrong. Because how could someone he loved so much, hurt him like this? 

“It’s not you,” you look up to him, face running with mascara. Even now, you are so beautiful, he thinks. 

“I’m not angry with you. I don’t even blame you,” he says. “He’s your soulmate?” 

“He is,” you nod, not meeting his eyes again. 

“Come here,” he collects you from the floor, pulling you up into his lap. 

You cling to him as you cry, and he holds you tightly, unsure of when or if he’ll ever hold you again after tonight.

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ iii. suguru/reader

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⭑๋࣭ summary page

please refresh your memory of the content warnings that's mentioned on the summary page. this chapter will include s*xual activites.

Suguru

  Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message. . . 

Call forty-four, and I’ve yet to hear from Y/N. She possibly couldn’t be ignoring my calls, my texts. . . I know she wouldn’t ignore me because she said we could continue our affair. I’m getting frustrated. My cock is getting frustrated. If something happened, she would’ve told me. . . Right? 

  Right, Suguru. 

 We were doing so well last week. Talking on the phone. Video chatting. She even sent me sexy photos of herself. I know my cock has been tired seeing my hand, but fuck, that woman makes me feels like an animal. I can’t help but be in love with Y/N. She belongs to me. Not that sad excuse of a husband. 

 From the moment she agreed to our agreement, I knew there was a possibility of her ghosting me might happen, so I prepared myself. After I had the pleasure of fucking that perfect pussy of hers, we parted ways. At least, that’s what I made her think.

 I followed her around for the rest of the day while she ran errands. You know… just to make sure she’s safe. I don’t need no other fucker trying to hit on what’s mine.  

  She’s not yours, Suguru.

 Yes she is.

 She just doesn’t know it yet. 

 I’m not sure if I should call her for the forty-fifth time. I don’t want to come off as too pushy, but her not responding is annoying me. And I know she’s home. I checked the tracker I left between her car seats and I see she’s been in the same spot for the past week. So I figured that’s where she lives.

  I’m going to sleep now. Talk to you tomorrow? 

 I stare at the last text message she sent to me. I mean… it didn’t seem like anything was wrong. We just finished having phone sex and it was pretty late. But if Y/N said she was going to talk to me tomorrow, she should’ve talked to me tomorrow.

 Tomorrow was a fucking week ago. 

 Wait… what if something happened to her? What if her fucker of a husband found out about us and he’s trying to keep me away from her? 

 No.

 I can’t let that happen. Not when I need her. 

 It would be too creepy if I showed up to her apartment. Maybe I should just send Y/N another text asking to meet up at the bakery I saw her at the last time? Yeah, I think I’ll do that. 

 I just want Y/N to know I’m worried—

 My phone is ringing. 

 I knew she wasn’t ignoring me.

 “Y/N, hey-”

 “ Nope .”

 I remove my phone from my ear to see it’s Satoru calling me. Awesome. 

 “Oh. It’s just you,” I say nonchalantly. 

 “ Well, damn. It’s nice talking to my best friend, too, ” he teases. “ Mad because I’m not your girlfriend? ”

 I deeply sigh, squeezing the bridge of my nose.  “What do you want, Satoru?”

 “ What are you doing tomorrow night? ”

  Fisting my cock to Y/N. 

 “Nothing. Why?”

 “ The Zen’ins’ are throwing some big fancy event, ” Satoru tells me.

 I arch my brow as if he could see me through the phone.  “And what does this have to do with me?”

 “ Do you know who Y/N is married to? ”

 “No?”

 “ Toji Zen’in, meaning nine times out of ten, she will be there. I know you said you haven’t heard from her in a while. Maybe you’ll see her .”

 She’s fucking married to him? Out of all people, that is who she chooses to spend her life with? 

 I’ve met that fucker a few times. I did a couple of his tattoos. Hate him, but he pays good money so I just tolerated the jackass. Knowing my Y/N is giving her pussy, love, and time to him makes me even more angry. 

 I need answers. 

 I need to know why the fuck she hasn’t been responding to phone calls and text messages. She can’t fucking promise an affair just to leave me and my cock dry. 

It doesn’t work like that. 

 “I’ll go.” 

Reader

 I tilt my head back and allow the hot water to hit my skin while I take a shower. It’s been a week since I last spoke to Suguru and two weeks since I told Toji I cheated. My life has been… complicating, to say the least. 

 I decided not to speak to Suguru anymore because I know Toji means well on his threats and I don’t need my husband killing someone on my behalf… again. I honestly thought he left to go find Suguru. However, when he returned home, I texted Suguru and he was okay.

 That was the last I heard of him.

 When Toji came home a few days after our argument, we went from having small talk to not talking at all. Only having quiet breakfasts and dinners together. We’d steal glances, but that’s about it. Though, he has been sleeping in our bed lately, which I find weird. 

 We haven’t slept next to each in months. His excuse? He said he didn’t want to wake me up since he comes home late from work. A pathetic excuse because Toji knows I don’t care if I’m woken up as long as I’m sleeping in his arms. There was a time where his arms felt like home to me…

  Anyways .

 Just earlier Toji watched me stripped naked to prepare for my shower. We stared at each other through the mirror. His body, muscular, covered in tattoos and scars, having only his briefs on to leave me with my imagination of his cock I haven’t seen in months. Toji hasn’t looked at me for that long in a while. 

 I was self-conscious.

 Marriage only made my body fuller. More curvier in these past seven years. My insecurity of him not being attracted to me anymore only heightened the longer he watched me. But when my eyes roamed down his body, they stopped at the front of briefs. 

  He was hard. 

 And I’m not talking about semi hard. I mean straining hard, like he was uncomfortable. I sucked in a soft breath and pulled my eyes away to look at his face that flushed a rose color across his cheeks. 

 I felt… desired. 

 The desire I’ve been yearning for months that I found with Suguru. 

 That silent moment I had with Toji and the lack of communication with Suguru is all I’ve been thinking about since I got in the shower. I didn’t even start washing myself yet. 

 I grabbed my body wash to pour on my loofah, and just when I was about to scrub myself, the shower door opened.

 I wasn’t startled because I knew it was Toji, but I was surprised because it was Toji. The last time we showered together was on his thirty-ninth birthday. We had sex. Amazing sex at that. What’s the likelihood of us recreating that memory right now? Slim to none. 

 I turn to face him.

 I don’t say anything.

 He doesn’t say anything but stares at me with those jade color hues I fell in love with ten years ago. I held his contact and I saw… hunger in his eyes.  

  You’re imagining things, Y/N. 

 Toji grabs my loofah and begins washing me, starting with my arms. He drags the loofah along my chest, down the mountain of my breasts, which he scrubs next. Toji took his time washing my tits. Something so simple like washing your partner’s body can be intimate and pussy soaking. Because that’s all I feel right now. 

 Drenched. 

 Turned on. 

 He knows I am. That’s why he slowly circles my full, perfectly saggy tits with the loofah. 

 All of this while never breaking eye contact. 

 He has me sit on the shower bench, lowering him to his knees to wash my legs. After he finishes with one leg, he spreads me open to clean the other one. Why? I don’t know, but I comply. For the first time since coming in the shower, he breaks contact to look elsewhere. 

 My puffy pussy that’s dying to be touched. 

 I’m no longer under the shower head and the water isn’t touching me since Toji is in front of me. He notices how wet I am, looks at me, then takes a deep breath that could be mistaken as a groan. 

 He stands me up, turning me around to wash my back. While doing so, I felt his cock brush against my ass. A moan touched my lips, causing Toji to stop and I immediately grew embarrassed from my actions. 

 Me being wet. Moaning. Getting turned on from being washed by Toji. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m in heat. Horny. I want to be fucked by my husband, but my stubbornness is not allowing me to make the first move. 

 Once he finished taking his time washing my ass, he grabbed the shower head to spray my body. My breaths were slow and steady, chest heaving desperation. Warmth also began spreading across Toji’s cheeks again. I didn’t bother to conceal my need for him.

 I looked at his cock and he was hard, veins popping out and leaking precum. 

 He wants me just as much as I want him. 

 I break the silence. 

 “Are you okay?” I ask, invitingly. However, he doesn’t respond. Toji swiftly lifted me off the shower floor as if I weighed nothing and hooked his arms under my knees while I rested my hands on his broad shoulders. 

 Again, Toji and I just stare at each other. His cock mere inches away from my pussy. It doesn’t matter how long we haven’t touched each other. Haven’t had sex or slept in the same bed. Once we connect, it feels like the first time again. 

 I’m needy. Impatient. Starving for his dick inside of me. I just can’t give him the satisfaction of begging. Not like I used to, and not after when I cheated. But lucky for me, Toji doesn’t make me wait. 

 He unhooks one of his arms to grab his length to align it with my sex. I hold my breath, anticipating the first time I feel him in months.

  Breathe is all he says to me before slamming into my pussy. The cry I let out was sharp and loud. I feel embarrassed from sounding like a cat in heat, but I can’t help myself.

 Toji feels so good. 

 He doesn’t even work his ways into my walls. His thrusts are brutal, but the wetness of my pussy mends the pain and makes it easier for him to slip in and out of me. 

 I close my eyes to bask in the moment, however, a territorial growl comes from Toji and I know he’s telling me to keep my eyes open and on him as a warning. 

 I have no intention of not listening to him. 

 I look into his earth like eyes where I see we share the same lust and craving for each other. Toji starts fucking me harder, more profoundly without missing a pace of his strokes. For a minute, I think of how big Suguru is, but Toji? I’ve been questioning how I’m able to take all nine-in-a-half inches of him inside of me.

 Toji fills me to the brim. He stretches my pussy until I’m perfectly molded around his width, taking him like his favorite slut. For years I’ve been Toji’s fuck toy. Maybe to other women, they don’t like being used by their husband, but I do. 

  I like the feeling of being fucked into oblivion by Toji, until drool coats the side of my lips and tears prick my eyes as they’re doing now. 

 “T-Toji…” I whimpered. “I miss how you feel inside of me, baby.”

 He clicks his tongue, abruptly pounding with a bit more force. “If you miss my cock, why did you let another guy fuck you? Hm?”

 “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Toji. Please… ” What am I begging for? I said I wasn’t going to, but… “Harder.”

 “You let another motherfucker use you to help him cum,” Toji says through gritted teeth, thrusting into me harder every word he speaks. “Y/N, you should know I don’t like fucking sharing. Do I have fuck you until you remember who you belong to? Until you know who pussy is this?”

 “Y-Yes.”

 He whispers in my ear. “Wrong answer.” How does the wrong answer feel this good? 

 I feel the coolness of the shower wall on my flesh as Toji fucks me against it. His thrusts are merciless. It felt like he was trying to punish me for my infidelity, making me atone for my sins while being stuffed with cock. 

 “Fucking being a filthy slut for someone else,” he mutters. “I’m going to stuff you, fill you with every single last drop of my cum. And I have a lot in me, sweetheart. It’s been months.”  He pulls his cock out my pussy, putting me on my feet to push my chest against the wall and force an arch in my back. 

 Toji didn’t even give me a chance to complain from his loss of touch before sinking deep into my warmth again. His fingers wrapped around my coils to pull while his free hand squeezes my nipples. 

 I feel overwhelmed. I’m trying to hold back my orgasm to relish this fucking because it may or may not happen again, but I feel a knot coiling in my stomach. 

 “Y/N, I feel you throbbing around my cock. I know you’re about to cum. So do it,” he orders, letting go of my nipples to slap my ass. 

 “I… I don’t want to.”

 “Are you saying you’re not going to cum for me when I told you to?” His question comes off as a warning.

 This side of Toji is… different. He usually fucks me rough, yes. Though, with tenderness and praising me for taking him well. But now… his intention is to fuck me until I’m numb. Degrading me. Talking down on me like I’m some whore he picked up at a bar.

 I… I like it.

 Actually, I love it. 

 I can’t hold back any longer. My orgasm creeps up on me and I shatter all over Toji’s cock. I moan, cry, scream, whimper his name like it’s all I know. But he’s not done. 

 “Gonna keep fucking this greedy pussy until I want. Keep cumming for me and take this cock, Y/N.”

 Toji finds his hands at my waist and continues to work me open past my orgasm. I put my hand on his pelvic to alleviate the pressure, but he slaps it away, giving me a slow and long stroke that kisses my sweet spot. 

 “Oh, fuck. Okay, Toji. I’ll keep taking it,” I cry. “Praise me, baby. Am I doing a good job?”

 He chuckles. “Why should I praise you after you cheated? My cock is hard for you. Isn’t that enough?” Embarrassment flushes through my body after being rejected by Toji, but I’m too fucked to care. “You want me to say you’re a good girl? That you’re doing a good job taking my cock? That’s what you want me to say?”

 Just hearing those words spill from his mouth makes me squeeze his cock viciously. “Y-Yes, please.”

 “Fuck, Y/N,” he grunts, pulling me up by my coils again to ghost over my ears. “I’m supposed to fucking hate you. Hate you for cheating on me, but I can’t. Not when you sound pathetically sexy while I’m pounding this good… fucking pussy. This fucking pussy you gave to someone else.”

 Toji won’t stop fucking me. My legs are growing weak and I feel the sweetest pain in my hips. I meet with his thrusts and bounce my ass on him because I know he loves when I try, even if won’t tell me that now. 

 The grunts and growls that came from Toji have now joined me with moans. His dick throbs inside me indicating his near release. Toji doesn’t get sloppy when he’s about to cum. He goes harder. He pounds into me until I feel light and my wetness echoes in the bathroom. 

 I can’t go back to Suguru after this. No matter how good his dick is, no one knows my body the way Toji does. How he makes ke cum feels like a rare experience. My body only responds to Toji this way. This fucking reminds me that I’m forever his. 

No one else’s. 

 “Toji, please. Please cum inside of me, baby. I want your cum so badly,” I cry, fucking him back.

 His dick twitches. “Begging me to breed this pussy? 

 “Yes. I want you cum with me. Please cum with me, Toji.”

 “Stop talking, Y/N.”

 I know he’s close. 

 “I love your cock, baby. You always fuck me so good,” I tell him. 

 He told me not to hold back, but I know his cum is a few thrusts away from spilling inside of me. 

 “Y/N,” he says, attempts to warn me, but fails with a groan. 

 “I know this pussy is yours. I’m sorry. I won’t cheat again. I’m yours, Toji. Only yours.”

 “Fuck!”

 He kissed my sweet spot a few more times before drowning my pussy with his release. His strokes don't soften, ensuring every drop of him is pounded deeply in my walls. I cum for the second time and this I squirt on Toji’s cock, between my thighs, on the floor until my wetness causes him to abruptly slip out of me. 

 I shake uncontrollably because the overstimulation of cumming back to back overwhelms my body. Getting fucked Toji does that to me. 

 And I know he isn’t finished with me. He turns off the shower, picks me up bridal style, making his way to our room where he throws me on the bed and continues to fuck me until I’m numb. 

previous chapter | next chapter

[thereticx]

ᎠᏆᏙϴᎡᏟᎬ́Ꭼ II.

♰Summary: Even after your confession, his life had to move forward and in order to do that his wife had to listen to everything that has happened after your first kiss.

♰Warnings: explicit sexual content, cheating, toxic relationships, mention of cigarettes etc.

♰Author's Note: Welcome back to part two of longest fic I've ever written.

The professor’s voice was faint in the background. As you continued to stare out the window — tiny raindrops hitting the large windows aggressively, you were more interested in the weather outside rather than any school work.

A few weeks after the incident, life was slowly retaking its course. At first there were angry calls, threatening messages and God knows what else — you've stopped checking after some time.

It was exhausting.

Each minute was spent in frustration, wondering if you did the right thing or was it just a carnal desire to hurt him? Maybe both. You still don't know for sure.

She was heartbroken. Betrayed and lied to for months on end. He could apologize hundreds of times and she still won't look at him the same again.

The look of pure adoration, of desire, of love she carried for her husband thinned out the second she heard your voice. An angelic and sensual sound but with the most venomous words.

She was right all along. You wanted to destroy something beautiful, something that would have lasted for many many years if it wasn't for you.

You were a poison, finding your way in the middle of their relationship, tearing it from the inside — like a disease and feeling no remorse.

“LIAR!!” She screamed, the tears flowing down her cheeks. She went pale only by thinking of the two of you together, on the same bed she shared with Geto for four years.

However, he didn't react. The man only looked down, ashamed of his own person. What he did was unforgivable and he deserved everything that was coming his way.

.

“Was it worth it?”

“Excuse me..?”

Your father cleared his throat. “Was it worth it — what you did?”

“No” You admitted, clenching your fist at your side “It wasn't worth it”

He tightened grip on the counter’s edge and gave you an ultimatum “I hope you're aware of the shit show you created. I don't care how you do it but you're gonna fix this. If not —”

“I know…”

As he walked out of the kitchen he glanced at you with pity “You're my daughter and I love you..but I must say I'm ashamed of you”

Somehow, that felt worse than your ‘break up’ with Geto. Which made you realize how far gone you actually were.

.

Cigarette smoke escaped his pierced lips, the strong scent getting lost in the air. He could barely concentrate on his work – on anything for the matter. Geto had a painful headache that started in the early hours of the morning, shortly after his wife left for the appointment. Although they still lived together in the same luxurious apartment, their paths never crossed.

He sipped on his coffee, the cigarette later forgotten in the ashtray — still lit. The man typed fast on the keyboard, checking his recent emails, his recent messages, hoping none of them to be from your father ”Fuck me–”.

His eyes read each word at least two times before moving on to the next sentence. Everything seemed a bit too formal, not at all like the messages your father used to send.

He apologized on your behalf for the chaos provoked and asked to meet again, at dinner.

Geto massaged his temples, the headache more unbearable than before. How could he possibly respond to this? Having dinner and drinks at your house, the same house where the two of you first bonded. It would be wrong for him to accept and it would be wrong for him to decline.

Dammit.

”You seem lost” His wife stood there, with her arms crossed, her weight supported by the glass door. She was dressed in a white dress that was hiding her growing belly.

He closed his laptop. Before shifting his body to face her better. His eyes widened. ”What?” She asked, her piercing gaze raising goosebumps on his skin ”Nothing. Just surprised you're talking to me” Geto admitted, clasping his hands together. He was nervous and she could tell.

”Yeah..don't get used to it. I'm still furious but I have been thinking and I'm willing to listen. No screams, no fights…just a talk” She said, motioning for him to make her room to sit next to him. She rested her arms behind her body, sneaking a glance at the man she loves.

Geto felt his heartbeat uncontrollably. Fuck, where can he begin?

Your laugh was contagious. A sound so melodic to his ears — beautiful. Seeing you there, in his arms, naked and vulnerable — he could die from just looking at you.

He supported his weight on his right arm, the other tracing the apple of your cheeks, down to your lips, your chin — that he slightly tilted up so his lips could reach yours.

Geto could feel you smiling between the kisses, your happiness radiating off your lips, and body, your hands gathering as much of his dark hair as possible, forcing him to deepen the kiss.

It was impossible to stop at just one kiss when it was you. He couldn't remember the last he felt as much desire, a rollercoaster of mixed feelings that all centered around your whole person.

“ I want you” Geto whispered, his fingers finding the warmth of your cunt . His digits spread your folds, then circled your clit, the wetness already dripping down.

You let out a whimper, grinding on his hand for some friction, everything to make you feel satisfied. “I want you too” The words made the man above you completely unguarded.

He sank two of his digits into your hole, fingering you slowly, eager to hear you beg — like the very first time.

“Mmhh..”

“Feels good?” He asked, already sure of your answer.

You nodded your head before lowering your own hand to play with the puffy clit between your legs “You know it does…f-fuck”

.

“Careful with that”

“Shut up and trust me” You chuckled, taking another strand of hair and wrapping it around the curling iron.

You'd never seen such beautiful hair on anyone — and healthy. You almost felt jealous. After a few seconds you let go of the strand and curled it again with your finger then let it fall softly around his face.

Geto was surprisingly patient while you styled his hair, each strand made individually ”Are you finished?” He asked, tugging at his bangs only for the curls to bounce back ”I'm almost done” You said.

”Hurry. My butt is hurting”Laughing softly, you let go of the last piece of hair and reached for the expensive hair oil he always uses. A few pumps should be enough. You massaged your palms together before applying it ”Please let me take a few pics”

He turned his head to look at you ”Fuck no”

”Why–I promise I won't show them to anyone”

Geto, as much as he wanted to deny you, those pouty lips of yours could not be resisted. He sighed ”Fine, but only if I get something in return”

You smiled and immediately unlocked your phone ”Anything”

The man waited until you photographed his hair and grabbed your waist for you to settle on his lap. He pulled the bangs out of his face, the shorter strands resting on his naked shoulders ”Open the camera” Geto said, his hands pulling you closer, your chest smashing against his.

You did as you were told. ”Now angle it to your face” Again, following his command ”Press the video button”.

Clicking on the red dot the camera started recording and with that the fun began.

Geto angled you chin down, his lips touching yours in a soft, almost featherly kiss. With his eyes half lidded, he smirked before licking your bottom lip, asking for entrance.

You struggled to hold the phone at face angle and not drop it on the floor. The kiss grew more passionate, more rough, his tongue tasting yours. Never in your life were you kissed like that.

The boys you have been with were impatient and restless. They wanted one thing only – sex.

Geto was different. Patient, careful and so fucking passionate. Maybe because he was older, more aware and experienced. He always played his cards right, a single kiss from him getting more reactions out of you than needed.

He guided your hips to feel his growing erection, squeezing the fat of your ass, his hands tracing your back, tugging at your breasts ”Geto–”

”Is something bothering you?” The man chuckled, playing with the hem of your shirt ”Want to stop?”

You wanted so badly to feel him inside you now, if only a faded image of his wife hadn't shown up ”N-no but we have to”

He kissed down your neck before ripping the shirt and getting rid of your bra. Geto cupped your breasts and traced your nipples with his tongue ”No we don't”

”Mmmhh”

You tugged at the roots of his hair as he continued to suck on your breasts. His face was basically mushed in your chest but he could hardly care. Nothing was better than the feeling of you.

”Please stop–” You begged, depriving yourself of the euphoric feeling of your orgasm.

Geto pulled away, his face resting now on your shoulder ”What's wrong?Tell me”

You shook your head and got off of him. You didn't bother to pick up your bra and you just went straight to the bathroom.

While you were aggressively washing your face, wishing for the horrible person to just disappear, Geto stayed unmoved on the floor – wishing for the first time in years to be unmarried.

.

Something was terribly wrong. Why was he shutting her out? His own fucking wife.

She watched her husband leave the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his hips. His hair was dripping wet, making him shiver. “Do you need help drying your hair?” She asked, closing her book for a mere second.

He seemed lost, pacing around the room in search of something — anything “You're acting weird. Did something happen at work?”

“I skipped today” He muttered, tying his wet locks into a bun, his bangs falling out in an instant. With his hair now up, his wife had a perfect view of his muscular back.

She set her book aside and crawled behind him, her lips kissing up his shoulder blade all the way to his neck “You're in a bad mood.

“I'm not”

She lowered her hand so she could feel him through the material “Yes you are. Luckily I know exactly how to help you”

He grabbed her wrist, preventing her from removing the towel “I'm not feeling it tonight”

She placed her chin on his shoulder, pouting her lips, hoping that this method would convince him to give in.

Unfortunately, a man like Geto, when he decided on something, it should stay that way “Cut it off–” He turned to her, shrugging her off of him “I said I'm not feeling it”

She was shocked. That was the first time her husband denied her needs. On top of that, he was being rude, inconsiderate and resentful. What happened to the Geto she knew and loved? Because at that moment, a totally different person was sitting in front of her.

“Fine. I'm sorry” She mumbled, before turning around and falling asleep on the other side of the bed — which was cold and lonely.

The next morning however, he was behaving like nothing happened. Geto was smiling, throwing compliments at her, offering to give her a massage which inevitably ended up with him eating her out, making up for the asshole behavior he displayed the night before.

He forced her legs open, his tongue fucking into her cunt repeatedly, his fingers abusing her clit at the same time.

God, your pussy was just the best.

The way you were moaning, arching your back, playing with your tits “F-fuck ohh fuck–”

He loved you. He truly loved you.

“I can't get enough of you. God, I love you” Geto admitted, kissing the inside of your thighs.

Tangling your fingers in his hair you replied “I know you do. I love you too, my husband”

Snapping out of his fantasy, he looked up at the image of his naked wife. She was panting, her cheeks were flushed and her skin was glistening with sweat.

Clearing his throat, Geto unconsciously played with his lip piercing. He was quiet, a wave of concern hitting him abruptly. What was he thinking?

This is not happening….

“My love, what's wrong?” His wife asked, wrapping her legs around his waist, forcing him down.

He didn't resist, entering her with no problem. Her walls tightened around his length right after he started moving.

Thank the lord, for his long hair. The messy dark strands hiding away his embarrassment. Geto forced his eyes shut, biting his tongue, terrified of having your name escape his lips when the erotic feeling of his release would wash over him.

Oh fuck, Y/N….

.

“You have a beautiful smile” He was taken by surprise, but flashing you a big smile nonetheless. The man experienced butterflies in his stomach, the mere presence of you with him, making him feel young again.

Giggling you poked his side, continuing with the teasing “You're getting flustered quite easily. That's good to know”

Geto scrunched his nose before flipping you on your back, his arms caging you down “I'm glad you enjoy seeing me embarrassed” He joked, tugging your hair behind your ear.

“What a beautiful smile you have”

Your cheeks grew warm, hearing how effortlessly he spoke, how gentle.

Ever since you knew him, way before your affair, Geto Suguru has always been a well spoken person. His gentle personality paired with his breathing looks — it might seem like you actually won the lottery. If only….right?

You knew who was in all truth lucky….his wife. The woman that he swore to love endlessly, the woman who wore a custom made wedding band and who was being treated literal heaven every day.

And that woman was not you. You were just a mistress, someone who was there to only pleasure him, nothing more.

You cursed yourself internally for everything. Why'd you have to start this? Why couldn't you stay away and not get involved with him? Why…why?

“Y/N…get back here” He said, kissing your forehead.

You turned your head away, the feeling of his lips burning on your skin. Or was it shame?

Geto clasped your hands together right before speaking “I'll have to go on a trip for a few days. A business trip”

“And?”

“And…I want you to come with me”

“Why don't you take your wife?”

He raised his brows, taken back when hearing your words “Excuse me?”

“You've heard me. Why don't you take her?”

Geto scoffed before pulling away from you “Because I don't want her there with me”

You sat on your knees on the couch, angry at him, at you, at this whole mess “And you want to take me?! What a wonderful idea"

He massaged his temples before pursuing “Yes. What's so wrong about that? About wanting to spend time with you”

“Just look at your ring. That's what's wrong”

You couldn't help it. You couldn't be the only one who suffered, who had demons praying on your sanity as payback for fucking a married man.

“Can't believe you…” He whispered, stretching forward to the glass table where his pack of cigarettes rested. He pulled one out and lit it, taking a fat drag right after.

“Oh really? Then let me ask you this. What would your poor wife think if she saw you fucking with me?”

Geto exhaled through his nose, the smoke disappearing into thin air. He licked his lips before taking another drag.

What has gotten into you? Don't you see how happy you make him? What's his wife have to do with all this? This is just you and him — no one else.

“You mean ex wife”

“Whatever…as long as you wear that ring and she has your name she is your wife and I'm your side chick” The tears were flowing down your face uncontrollably. Not even realizing you were crying, you continued to pour out your heart “I hate to break it to you but I'm not gonna sneak around any longer. I can't do it”

Geto put out his cigarette, rushing to take you into his arms. He held your weak self close to him, trying to comfort you at the best of his abilities.

He hated the sound of your cries. It was heartbreaking. Geto felt like someone just stabbed him and ripped out his heart and then stabbed him again.

“I hate this…and only because I wanted to prove her what I'm actually capable of”

He stopped breathing, his soul leaving his body “What did you say? What you're capable of?! Meaning what?”

Resting your hands on his chest you contemplated whether to tell him the truth or not. It can't get worse than this right?

Wrong.

“Right before that dinner a few months ago…I talked with my friend. I told her about your wife and how she keeps looking at me like I'm the worst thing to ever walk on earth and–”

“And?”

While sobbing, you gather your strength to continue with the story. That way you could actually feel something other than utter disgust — shame.

“I made a decision t-to give her something to truly worry about”

Geto bit his tongue so hard it started bleeding.

“It was my idea to get involved with you. Right from the start…it was my idea to make you cheat on her”

He couldn't listen to you anymore. Your words were all fading in the background.

Geto freaked out, rushing to get his jacket and phone and leaving your house as soon as possible. He didn't even hear you yelling after him to stop and listen. He just couldn't.

.

“That's quite a story” She said, unlocking her phone and clicking on the email from your dear father.

Geto nodded absently, before sneaking a glance at his wife's device “What are you doing?”

“I'm just making sure that little bitch would be there to properly apologize for ruining us”

[inkyquince]

please inky, continue w your thought about ex-husbands and divorce.. pleaseee expand omfg your mind is so big i just wanna chomp on it 😞

ASJODDJAIJS

characters. Avery. Remy. Bailey. (Degrees of Lewdity)

yeah, so content warning, toxic behaviour, mention of sex after some wine so that's hinted to be dubcon as hell, angst, especially with mister Hay Bales. also bailey's section has a shit ton of coercion, and its implied reader is remarried.

okay, so camp "I signed, but I'm mad now" of divorced husband is very much Avery, Remy, Bailey vibes.

So, Avery didn't MEAN to sign the papers. He was just so fucking seething that he did it out of spite. Fucking throwing the papers at you and tells you to get the fuck out of his house. What I love about Avery, at any moment, he could be in either camp, ngl. Either he'd fight for his reputation, and would never even let you show him the papers, or you get him so riled up, he does it out of pure anger and wanting revenge.

Anyways, his rep does take a blow, but he doesn't care, mans is running off pure spite for the entirety of the divorce proceedings. The moment he realises he needs to pay alimony? Wishes that he could go over to you and throttle you.

But when that anger simmers down? When he's gotten his fill of booze, whore and spite?

Mans is fucking LONELY. He's still angry, but its just general anger at the situation. Look, if you were still an orphan, he'd just get a new sugar baby. Who give a shit. Yeah, it undoes the work he did on you and he doesn't look as forward to date nights as he did, but this is different. You were his spouse. His ex-spouse now, but his spouse. He bared his fucking soul to you. You two had a good fucking life. Just had a few issues he refused to look at. You two were the perfect couople in the town's eyes, how would they have reacted to you two going to counselling?

It's too late though. He swings widly between being a fucking monster of an ex, forcing you to go back to the house to "pick up some stuff" and telling the town that you cheated on him, that's why you two divorced, to sending you gifts on your anniversary and your birthday. Phones you at night, and his voice is so low and sweet, and murmuring that he misses you.

Worse than Avery? Remy.

Remy is the rich bitch town icon that Avery wishes he was. He has you sign a prenup, then you get to live his fucking wealthy ass life. He's a cold ass fucker, so when you want to work on the marriage, he snidely mentions if you don't like it, leave him. Then he's shocked-face when you do. Then to get back at you, he's the one who gets the divorce papers. To get back at him, you sign them. To get back at you, he signs them. To get back at him, you file them.

To get back at you, motherfucker makes sure you get nothing from him in the divorce.

After all the stupid ass shit he pulls, he's fucking annoyed now. You were his other half, the only person he'd ever kneel down for. So, he's a frigid little bitch of an ex husband. But he's also such a fucker.

Like, he's will be so aloof and cold with you, and then idly offer a glass of wine to share when you have to come over to sign for some stuff. Evening ends with him three fingers deep in you, stroking you the way you like it, sucking at your neck greedily.

The treatment he gives you, when its just the two of you, is like the shiny red apple he would hold up to your lips. This is what you could have. But his behaviour away from those times is the stick. This is what you get for leaving him. Trying to usher you back into the estate and spread your legs for him, and only him again.

Bailey? Bailey. Bailey gives the vibes that you two married very young. When there was a spark of hope, and with very few good things in his life, he made sure to put a ring on the one thing that did.

However, he changes over time, becoming the ruthless caretaker of the orphanage, a terrifying criminal, and a worse man. You weren't a soft spot, you were a vulnerable one. Bailey would have had to have some sort of gentleness to him if you were a soft spot. You were a weakness, an achilles heel had had to smother and keep hiddden.

And sadly, that is no way to live.

So seperation. Then divorce. Then he doesn't show up to the court appointment. He pays alimony. He doesn't blink at anything, just takes it in stride, sometimes sneering at you.

But he isn't explosive. He isn't cold. He's just Bailey.

You see him once a month, coming to deliver your half of the money each time. You doubt it's just to see you again, even when you move on with your life and he stays in the orphanage you two always used to hate, and plan to escape from. Maybe its because he enjoys the looks the bankers give you when you have to pull out a shit ton of ironed out bills, taken from his orphans' hands, and put directly into yours.

But, you're still his. Your life hasn't changed at all from when you two were together. The only difference is that he no longer spends two or three nights sleeping next to you anymore.

Because you can't say no to Bailey.

You could be wearing a wedding ring, you could be tired from staying up with your baby, you could be so far into a new, happier life, but it doesn't matter. He doesn't trust whores, paid or not, he hates clubbing, and even with the most tender of sore spots, all they need it a slow, gentle massage.

So you have to drop everything for him. He doesn't give a shit what you could be doing. Bailey has an ache that needs seeing to. Fuck it, he'd go to your house, or get a room, but wouldn't force you back to the orphanage, at least for a long time.

You let him into your body again and again, his rough thrusts no different than when you two still shared a wedding ring. He bites your shoulder, he presses your face into the pillows, and spanks your thighs with his belt.

You never dared to tell him that you won't be able to join him for this stress relievers he seems to rely on. God knows what he'd do. Not to you, you don't take a screw driver to your knee when your sore spot acts up, but everything around you? Your spouse, your job, your life?

So you let him in.

One day he does demand that you go to the orphanage again. You could fight it all you want, but you have to go. There, he fucks you in the attic, just like that time all those years ago, and you decided he was the one you wanted to give your virginity to.

It's the closest he gets to whispering that he wants you back.

[always---wrong]

I think I know why I like Greek Mythology so much. It's one of the only religions that I know of where all the godly beings are very obviously nuerodivergent.

The greeks knew it too. They knew they're godly deities were weird as fuck. Their godly deities who could look just like their neighbor or their doctor or someone they pass in the street.

The gods in Greek mythology are so human, especially compared to other religions at the time. It was the first one that designed its gods on humans, one of the first ones where it was okay to laugh at the funny situations the gods got themselves in. The only religion at the time where, though if you got them angry they may kill your entire family, you could interact and be friendly with them.

They were so human. They had a home, a place to live. They went to parties and had their hobbies.

On top of it all, the Olympians are the embodiment of a crazy dysfunctional family. They are a mess, from the cheating husband (and fucking weirdo) in Zeus, to the bitter and jealous wife in Hera. They have kids (mostly Zeus) some who Zeus likes and some where he could literally couldn't care less. There's scandals and messy situation ships. There are betrayals and tragedies. The gods all have their different morals and lines they won't cross and it depends on which god.

They're based on humans. They are so human. (Which is something I don't see often in religions at all and it heals some part of my religious trauma) Yet, they are also weird as fuck, in ways that I find familiar.

They each have their special little things. Things that they care about a mighty deal. Things that are specific especially to them.

Ares with his fighting and war. Hephaestus with his creations and the forge. Hera and her single-mind on Zeus and his disloyalty- that woman is relentless on those poor mistresses. Poseidon and his odd love of horses and other things. Apollo and his music.

It's almost like those things that they focus solely on is some kind of... Special interest perhaps?

It's also the way the act and react to things. They will take things that are said or done that seem small and trivial to another person and blow it up. They will get really upset and make it a whole ordeal.

Like when Athena made a flute and was laughed at cause blowing into it made her look funny so she freaking cursed the flute and it's next player with a terrible fate and threw it off the mountain for no good reason. Or when someone found that flute they played it so well that the bragged that they would even be better than Apollo so he came down, challenged them and then SKINNED them alive after he won. Like dude, calm down.

And I haven't even gotten into how Rick Riordan characterizes them cause I have never seen so many neurodivergent characters in one place then I do in those books. Like, all the campers are neurodivergent because they are demigods, heavy on the god. They got their neurodivergences from them right so it stands to reason that they are also neurodivergent.

Anywayyyyy,

Im reading a Greek mythology textbook right now so I'm going to continue this train of thought as I keep reading but so far, from what I can tell, these fuckers are soooooo nuerodivergent. Argue with a wall if you disagree

[iulaisj]

cheating on him…

sinopsis: you’re cheating on your husband (Gojo Satoru) with his best friend Geto Suguru.

warning: sexual content, cheating, swallowing cum, oral, cuckold Satoru?

paring: Geto Suguru x female reader.

Gojo Satoru never imagined he’d find himself in this situation, yet here he was unable to tear his eyes away. The sight of his wife on her knees, lips wrapped around another man’s cock, Suguru’s cock, no less, sent his mind spiraling. Was this wrong? The thought echoed in his head, but he couldn’t deny the heat coursing through his body.

He watched intently as Suguru ruthlessly claimed your throat, the lewd sounds filling the room making his own hand tighten around himself. He should have looked away, should have stopped this, but he couldn’t. All he could do was watch, his breath hitching with every moan, every gag, every twitch of pleasure on your face. And, shamefully, he couldn’t stop his own hand from stroking, caught between guilt and arousal, completely at the mercy of the scene unfolding before him.

He should feel angry, not aroused. The fact that he wasn’t upset, wasn’t even bothered by the reality of you cheating on him made it all the more surreal. Instead, Satoru felt an almost maddening lust consuming him, his hand working furiously on his cock as he watched Suguru relentlessly use your throat.

And you? You loved every second of it. The way Suguru’s hands gripped your head, guiding you as tears streaked down your cheeks, only made you want more. You never thought Gojo would discover this, much less react like this. Yet here he was, eyes glazed with desire, panting softly, his arousal matching the raw, shameless pleasure painted on your face. It was filthy, forbidden and none of you wanted it to stop.

You and Suguru didn’t stop, not even for a moment. Suguru thrust into your throat mercilessly, groaning low and guttural as he reached his peak. When he came, it was overwhelming so much that it spilled from your lips before you obediently swallowed every last drop. The sight was intoxicating, almost too much for Satoru to handle.

His breath hitched as he watched, his arousal somehow intensifying at how much Suguru had given you. But then a sharp pang of jealousy stabbed through him. You never swallowed for him, why not? That thought burned in his chest, making his hand work faster as his frustration bled into his arousal. He felt a flicker of anger, but it only fueled the desperate strokes of his cock, his eyes glued to the obscene scene in front of him.

Gojo stayed hidden, biting down on his own hand to muffle the broken moan that escaped as he came, his release spilling over his fingers. He leaned heavily against the wall, chest heaving, the sound of his ragged breathing drowned out by the lewd noises coming from the other side of the door.

You and Suguru didn’t notice him at all. Instead, you smiled sweetly, placing a tender kiss on Suguru’s softening cock before standing to face him.

The same lips you used to kiss him, soft and sweet, just like the day you first kissed Gojo, the lips he adored so much…were now the ones wrapped around Suguru’s cock, swallowing his cum without hesitation. And what made it worse, what made his stomach twist with a mix of jealousy and arousal, was the thought of tomorrow. Tomorrow, you’d greet him with those same lips, press them against his in the morning as if nothing had happened, as if they weren’t tainted by the filth of Suguru’ cum the night before.

Gojo should feel betrayed, disgusted even, but instead, his body betrayed him. The depravity of it all made his pulse race and his cock stir again. Tomorrow, when your lips met his, would he even care or would the memory of tonight make him want you even more…?

continue…?

(it’s cuckold, I wrote it wrong and now I can’t change it😭😭)

[xwritingdixonx]

Till Death Do Us Part | Chapter 8 |

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series masterlist

Summary: Emotions run high after the death of Pete, causing many truths to be revealed.

Warnings: language (of course), mentions of cheating, mention of suicide

Word Count: aprox. 3k

Tags: @bigbaldheadname @daryldixcnswife @alanamarie @suniloli @fuseburner

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Words and insults threw themselves around the dining room. You were tired and angry but mostly irritated at the fact that that bastard's blood had splattered on your nightgown. "We are fucked!" Eddie spoke, matter of factly to Nellie, "We don't know that!" She argued back.

"Deanna is grieving. I doubt the first thing on her mind is kicking us out." Despite his anger towards what had been done to his boys, Tommy did his best to be reasonable. As he always has done.

You couldn't imagine the grief that surely engulfed Deanna. She had lost her son and husband in such a short span of time. You knew, had it been you, you would have gone mad already. You’d be tearing down the world and everything that stood in your way.

“I say we take Alexandria like how we wanted from the beginning. We could have it before the sun rises!”

Your eyes snapped to Eddie in an instant, disbelieving the way he just spat that out as if it was nothing.

You heard Daryl mutter a, what? from beside you. “Wait” Rick stepped forward with a sarcastic chuckle, “it’s been your plan this whole time?” Multiple yes’s we’re shouted at him at once, including your own. You had never watched a man shut his mouth so quickly. At least now he understood. He understand your fight for Alexandria, he understood the roles you played. He was just beginning to play checkers but you were already winning chess.

Standing from your seated position at the table, “We do nothing, we deal with what comes tomorrow.” You flashed everyone a hard stare, a knowing look, too exhausted for any insubordination. Your mind spiraled with thoughts and worries of the boys well-being, of Alexandria, of Daryl. Your body and mind ached for you to just simply rest. Dropping your mouth open to continue, you waved your hand in the air almost in a way to stop your own words. “No, I’m going to bed.”

You stood at the bathroom sink, only in your underwear, scrubbing with hot water the blood stains on the light silky fabric. The bathroom door was open halfway, allowing a stream of light into the dark bedroom. The sound of the bedroom door opening and closing pulled you from your task.

Using your foot to kick open the bathroom door completely, you watched Daryl take a seat on the edge of the bed, letting out a deep sigh when he hit the plush mattress. A sigh escaped your own lips, shutting off the sink as the hot water had begun to turn the undertones of your skin a burning red.

You hung the gown to dry and left the bathroom to your dresser, in need of new pajamas. “Hopefully the stains come out.” No response met your words. Daryl kept his back to you, head hung low while playing with his hands. Something was bothering him, you could feel it the second he entered the room. “It’s stupid to wear something like that now anyway. It just made feel pretty and-“

“Why are ya lyin’ to me?” Daryl disrupted your babbling words.

It made you freeze in your tracks, t shirt in hand.

“I’m not lying to you.” You slipped the t shirt over your head and closed the dresser drawer a tad harder than intended, causing some of the nick nacks on top to rattle. Daryl scoffed and adjusted his position so he was sat up in bed, back against the backboard.You chose to ignore his scoff and went to turn off the light in the bathroom. Though the room was now dark, the feeling stayed the same.

You plugged in the dim lamp on your nightstand, knowing you would have to go through a martial dispute before granting yourself the rest you desired.

You sat on your side on the bed, leaning your body over to him. “What am I lying about?” The room was dim but your eyes had adjusted enough to see the glare he gave you. “Been lyin’ since the start. You lied bout’ where you were before. Bout’ Alexandria. Bout’ yourself. Hell, feel like all the things i’m findin’ out ain’t even coming from you.”

“And what do you mean by that?” You could admit you’d lied. But did he even for a second think that perhaps your lies and secrets were because you weren’t ready to tell the truth?

Daryl hesitated. He was angry but what he wanted to say was irrational, it was a thought that had never crossed his mind before tonight. “What was Pete talking bout’?” Your eyebrows furrowed from confusion, “What do you mean D?” He once again hesitated.

“Luke said Pete was saying’ stuff bout’ Tommy and you. I saw the look on yer face, you knew what he was sayin’.” The hand you had placed lovingly on Daryl’s thigh retreated. Your posture straightened as your body seemed to recoil itself away from him. Almost like a turtle slipping back into its shell.

Daryl watched your movements, only feeding into the insecurity that was pounding at his chest. Daryl had always been insecure when it came to you. He never believed he deserved you. Always believed that someone smarter and more attractive would come along and swoop you away. It had been his greatest fear since day one.

“Are you trying to ask me if I fucked Tommy? My dead sister’s husband?”

With the tone of harshness you had presented the statement with, it made Daryl feel ashamed. Ashamed at the way he allowed his own insecurities to eat away at him. Ashamed that such an accusation like that could’ve even been made wether it was from him or the mouths of others.

“I don’t know.” Deep within him he knew it wasn’t true but the anxiety of you saying yes still remained.

You laughed. You laughed at him. He looked at you to confirm what his ears heard and surely you had a sad smile on your face. Tears welled in your eyes. You looked away from him as they began to fall.

“Me and Tommy have gotten close over these years, especially after Lizzie.” Your tone was thick with sadness. “It was just us and the boys on the road after Lizzie. I had to talk him out of following Lizzie so many times. Even had to stop him once.”

Those were some of the darkest days you had ever encountered.

“When we got to Alexandria, Tommy didn’t have a wife, I didn’t have a husband. I stayed around Tommy and the boys a lot at the beginning. They were who I felt safe with but….people talked.”

There were sobs growing within your chest, rising to your throat. “I’ve taken care of those boys as if they’re my own because that’s what Lizzie wanted. And I’ve been called the nastiest things for it.” It was a frustration and sadness you couldn’t begin to explain. You took a second to find a breath, wiping away tears. “So no. I have never fucked Tommy. I can't believe you'd let these fucking Alexandrians get in your head like that."

Daryl’s insecurities were now replaced with guilt. Such a sorrowing and decaying feeling.

“I’ve only lied to you because I know the truth is going to hurt you a lot more. Especially about where I was before Alexandria. I was…” You stopped when you saw the fearful tears prickling his eyes. “I was abused and humiliated.” He lowered his head, unable to look at you, never seen such sadness in your eyes before. “M’sorry. M’sorry.” He repeated as his guilt grew, eating away at his conscious. “It’s my fault. I left ya.”

You knew you were meant to be angry with him but the rise in your emotions demanded the comfort from him. And you wouldn’t let him sit and blame himself for the traumas you had endured.

You crawled to him, making room for yourself between his legs, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrapped themselves around you in an instant, pulling you closer. The simplicity of his body temperature was enough to comfort you. All the times this world had thrown you down and dragged you through the mud, this was the person you had spent your time crying out for.

“It wasn’t your fault.” You reassured, your hands running up his shirt and rubbing his bare skin for comfort. When there failed to be a response, you pulled away, only to look up and see the tears that silently fell down his cheeks. “It wasn’t your fault D.” You reached a hand up to rub the tears from staining his face. “I promise we’ll talk about it more. But please, go to bed with me?”

"Lizzie!" You grasped your sisters arm and yanked her away from the group of walkers that busted through the back door of the pharmacy. It was meant to be a simple trip into the pharmacy. Luke had been feeling under the weather due to the allergies in the Spring air.

If you could just find him some Aleve or Claritin, everyone would be put at ease with his health.

You rushed out of the pharmacy, slamming the door and placing back the crowbar that had been lodged in the door handle. Looking back, you should’ve taken it as a warning to stay away.

“You alright?” Lizzie had obviously been startled by the sudden disturbance of what was meant to be, an easy scavenge. Her eyes were still wide with shock but she nodded. “Come on, let’s go back to camp.” You playfully shoved her shoulder, holding up a very crushed box of Tylenol Cold and Flu pills in your hand. She laughed and snatched it from you following you back into the tree line.

Camp wasn’t exactly a place to call home. You had set up in the middle of a clearing in the woods, just by the edge of a small hill. Lizzie rubbed Luke’s back motherly as he sneezed over his can of soup. “It’s okay, sweet boy. Medicine should kick in shortly.” The sun was setting and you’d have to stuff out the fire soon so no one would see the light. Someone spotting the smoke worried you enough.

Lizzie slept as she always did, sandwiched in between her two boys. Providing them with her own body heat. “You and Henry gonna start cuddling too or?” You joked with Tommy as the two of you began setting up your own “beds”. Your joke earned a deep chuckle from the man. “Fortunately, Henry’s taking up watch duty tonight.”

Though you and Tommy had ended that night joking and picking on the other, the morning would put a stop to that for a long time.

You were awoken by a blood curdling scream. You scurried to stand to your feet before your mind was even fully awake. “Jace? Luke?” Your heart sank as you saw the scene before you. Luke hid behind Jace as Jace shoved Lizzie away. Tears streaming down both of their faces. But that wasn’t Lizzie, not with those awful sounds and movements.

“Boys come!” You shouted, only causing who was once your sister to turn to you. It was as if you froze, your hand was placed on the blade on your belt but you couldn’t grab it. It was her…only paler. And empty.

Bang!

Jumping at the sudden noise and the thud that followed, you turned your teary eyes to Tommy. His shaking hand still on the trigger. The shock of what he did froze him like that for a second. But the absolute agony hit him even faster. “What did I- What did I do?” He repeated between sobs.

You looked to Henry who, just like everyone, was in a great deal of shock.

It was the clicking of the pistol that pulled you from your own daze, “Tommy no!” There wasn’t any hesitation when you tackled the man down, sending both of you for a tumble down the side of the hill. You landed on a particularly large rock. The cracking sound you heard within your ribcage made every inch of your body shiver.

You laid there, clutching your side, trying to take in every breath of air as the wind had been knocked out of you on impact. You laid there staring up at the tree tops accepting the pain of your injury. For a second, there was peace. Though you knew you weren’t dying, you figured this would be the best way to go. Lying in nature, looking at the sky. And you wondered if Lizzie felt this peace just hours ago, laying with her boys, stargazing at the night sky. And you wondered if she knew.

When Henry brought you back up to camp and laid you down on your sleeping bag, you learned that she did know. The letter she had left you was tucked on the inside of the bag. You didn’t read it until you arrived at Alexandria two months later.

And within that letter gave you every reason to begin your plan in taking Alexandria. Wether you played a quick brutal game or a slow manipulative one, you were going to take care of her boys and keep them safe. Just like she wanted.

The morning came quicker than you hoped. When you awoke, it was plenty early enough to fall back asleep with time to spare. But the anxiety rush that awoke you in the first place surely wasn’t going to allow that. Not knowing if the place you called home, could be called home much longer was quite the alarm clock.

After you had dragged yourself from Daryl’s embrace, you forced yourself to get ready for what was to come.

The sun had yet to rise but the sky was a cool bluish gray, it seemed to fit the mood. There was a slight crisp in the air. Alluding to the fact that the fall months were going to begin shortly. It made you wish you had put on some sort of light jacket but you hoped the warmth from the mug in your hand would provide enough warmth.

It was too early for anyone else to be awake especially after last night. The streets were bare and empty, exempt for the pools of blood which stained the concrete outside of the Anderson home. You weren’t sure if that sight or the chilly morning air caused you to shiver.

You continued your walk until you got to your favorite spot in all of Alexandria. The small wooden bridge that overlooked the stream that led down into the pond. It was pushed back away from the road and the few trees and bushes kept it as hidden as possible. You leaned your elbows on the railing, blowing at the steam surfacing from your cup.

You’d bring the boys here to talk. You’d sit yourselves under the middle wood railing and let your feet dangle, almost touching the water below. Jace would sit on one side, Luke on the other. At the beginning of summer, you’d watch the frog eggs turn into tadpoles, and the tadpoles turn into frogs.

It's the strong smell of coffee that makes you fix your posture, standing up straight. You don't look at her but you know she's standing beside you. "Knew it was me?" Deanna asked. "You nodded in response. "Only two people I've ever known drink their coffee that strong. My mama...and you." Had it been any other day, she would've laughed but all you got back was silence.

"We're gonna have a funeral for them later today. If you'd like to come." You wanted to say you were sorry. That was what you were taught to do. Say sorry for your loss, attend the funeral, shed a few tears, and then go on. But Deanna didn't seem to be in the mood for sorry's or condolences. "I don't think that's a good idea."

A loud thud caused you to jump. It came from the wall that stood to your far right. It was followed by moans and groans that were louder than normal in the dead of the early morning. "What do you see when you look at them?" Now you looked at her, giving her an odd glare.

"You're around them more than I've ever been, what do you see?"

"Depends." You racked your brain trying to figure out if this was some elaborate question. Some sort of question to put your humanity to the test. "We, the living, see ourselves as so much better than them. But in reality, we're seconds away from being just like them." You watched as a frown formed on Deanna's face at those words. In an attempt to lighten the mood, "It is harder to be compassionate when they're trying to eat you of course."

It was small but you did see her lip almost turn into a smile. "Living behind these walls for all that time...never even imagined losing people. Especially not Reg." She looked away as she said his name, sorrow, and guilt flooding her face. She took a breath to compose herself, "That's not what a good leader does. They dont shelter their people so much that all they know is fear."

You weren't sure if there was a point to her rambling or if she just simply needed to vent to someone who would listen. So, you sipped your tea and awaited her continuation. "I'm sorry Y/n." You looked to her in an instant, not knowing what she was apologizing for. "I've been so stubborn when it comes to you...because I know you'll be a better ruler than I ever could've been."

"What?"

The sun began to peek over the walls of Alexandria, creating an ever-so-fitting glow on the scenery around you. "Reg saw it a long time ago. He believed in you. He wanted you to have Alexandria after both of us were gone. I was just too stubborn to listen."

Words couldn't seem to form themselves on your tongue though your mind ran quick. "What about Spencer? Aren't things like this supposed to be passed to your children."

Deanna scoffed at this. Had she been anymore dramatic about it, she would've spit out her coffee. "I don't even trust him with the liquor cabinet in the house." Though the truth behind the statement was dark, Deanna chuckled. There was a moment of silence as the both of you looked to the bright sun, feeling the rays on your morning skin.

Deanna reached for your free hand with hers. Her skin was drier with more fine lines than your soft smoothed hands. To you, it showed the years she lived, the sons she'd raised, and the man she'd loved with those very hands. "Promise me you'll do great things ?"

"I swear it."

Heir to Alexandria.

[mayullla]

Quest SideStory: It's two now...

Character(s): Slimes (Original work/Unnamed Char)

Summary: A what-if continuation of A Broken Wife; In a loveless marriage where your husband once didn't care, you can't help but fall for another man. But that was all in the past... well till you saw him again at the market with your husband.

Tags/Warnings: fantasy jrpg like universe, fem!reader, suggestive themes (both non-consensual and dubious kissing, touching, but no outright smut), possession (not reader again), mentions of cheating (husbands part unless you consider a wife constantly looking at another man cheating too), Stockholm syndrome (broken!reader), dubious consent, toxic relationships, imprisonment, emotional manipulation, drabble

Random brainrot for that yan slime brain husband and wife reader. But like since you have been in a loveless marriage, decided by your parents. What if the reader falls in love with another man, someone who was far kinder towards you in the past, one that doesn't avoid your eyes.

However, you never made a move... After all, you were a married woman. How could you? The world around you that you live in would look down on you. A cheating wife. A disgrace. You thought you were able to bottle everything up. You thought that it was fine... to look from afar.

But that was from the past.

Cut too now. Your husband's brain is filled to the brim with slime and so possessive over you and what you do. Your every step, your energy, your eyes, to him it was all his. Yet maybe it could have stayed this way instead of something far worse. You should have stayed at home instead of asking his permission to go out that day, wanting no more than to stretch your legs and watch people bustle around the market. You really should have stayed back home when you went out on a date only to bump into the man you were so in love with in the past.

He greeted you with a smile, asking how you have been and that it has been a while since he had last seen you. And your feelings once forgotten due to all the things that recently happened came back like a speeding train crash. You were unable to look him in the face, guilt in your heart as you stuttered your answers.

Your face heated up, unknown to you, your husband could see everything as he narrows his eyes. Jealousy overwhelmed him as his hand on your waist tightened, snapping you back to reality as you looked at your husband. He was angry, you were so sure of it. Yet when you tried to stop him, scared that he would do something foolish, he suddenly smiled at the man greeting him as if he was never angry... as if he was never jealous.

Your heart thundered in your chest when you returned home in fear of what was to come. He was still holding your hip, still tight, never once relaxed till you finally got home. Yet as soon as he released your waist, he pulled you into him. His kisses were more aggressive than before, similar to when he was recently changed into a monster. He refused to let you go out for a few days, and if you tried to beg him, he did not let you go out.

It was a repeat of the past.

It took a while, but he finally calmed down as he released you from house arrest. You thought that everything would turn back to how it was and that everything would be alright till you heard a knock on the door. Your husband was at home, as he took a small holiday for himself, unable to concentrate on his work. Your heart dropped when you saw him again.

He greeted you, smiling as he asked you how have you been and that he wanted to visit cause he was worried about you. The two of you didn't have much time to talk last time as your husband cut in and rushed everything so that he could take you away.

You tried to smile at him, tried yet all you could think about was your husband that was in the corner listening. You fear that the man would die when your husband appeared to greet him once again. His smile was too strained in your eyes as he asked the man to come in.

Everything happened too suddenly, when your husband told you to get something for you guys to eat while he escort the guest into the lining room you hurrier to grab everything even knocking the tea box while rushing but it appears that you were too late when you almost immediately heard a crash in the other room. Running, you screamed your husband to stop. Your eyes widen as you watch him stand staring at the man who you once loved on the floor struggling to breathe as black goop covers his face, cutting his air to breathe. No matter how many times he tried to rip and tear the slime off his face, it was no use as it slowly moved to his brain. You tried to stop it, screaming to your husband in tears to stop. Begging to let him go, yet your husband looked down at the man so coldly, then looking with what you thought was understanding in his eyes, clearly you were wrong when he placed his hand on your face asking why you didn't listen to him. "Didn't I ask you to get the tea, dear? Staying here would only hurt you right now."

Grabbing you by your waist as you tried to stop everything that was happening. You tried to get down, push him away, but he held you tightly in his arms, kissing your temple and neck, telling you to calm down and that everything would be okay even if you didn't listen to him you were still by his side.

But you could not calm down, not when the man you once cared about so much was on the floor unmoving. He was dead. Someone died cause of you. In your mind, it was already too late. You knew it was already too late, yet you could not admit it to yourself.

You can't help hope when you saw a twitch of his hand when he started moving little by little but your heart only froze again when you saw his eyes that were looking at you, filled to the brim with an insane love.

You don't know how it came to be, you didn't understand how it came to happen when even the littlest of privacy was now gone in the face of two men, days where both of them suffocate you with their love and obsessions. Usually, when your husband had to go to work, you had a little time to yourself. But it was now taken by the man you once loved. His love was more obsessive than your husband's, who was more possessive over your being, but it didn't change the mania in their eyes, both the same and only for you.

Sometimes, you thought that they were more intuned with each other minds, and how they move always fills the gap by your side when the other has to leave for a moment. It was as if they had one mind. But days when it was you three, there was always this anger within them that they never say, yet their actions show. Your husband becomes more possessive while the other becomes more clinging. There was so much envy, jealousy, and anger towards each other. They fought for your thoughts, your mind, and your heart. Everything.