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luvvixu · 4 months

Text

the end

synopsis: the end of your relationship was inevitable. that's why both of you and gojo satoru individually prepare yourselves against the pain and separation of an upcoming divorce. and when that thing came, you suddenly found yourselves trapped inside the circle of your marriage where denial is present, and acceptance is absent. let us all see how the marriage walk through the end.

tags: divorce!au, ex-husband!gojo, angst, hurt/no comfort, mentioned of death, mentioned of trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: here's an almost 8k words of oneshot about gojo marriage again. i've mentioned this before but im taking a very small break and will be back on june 5 with an update regarding to the chapter of mind over matter ff. be sure to check out the announcement!

it was a peaceful morning on your balcony with satoru gojo, your husband for almost two years. you are reading your newly purchased book with your glasses on to help you see the letters.

you take a second peek at your husband who was already gazing at you from the beginning. his gaze was painted with a mixture of sadness and adoration towards you. looks like he had something to say, and you're right, he did have something to say when he mumbles your name.

oh god, you knew where this conversation would be. keeping your eyes bore on him, you fully turned your attention to him and waited for him to speak what's on his heart and mind.

"i think we should file a divorce."

his voice was monotonous and yet you knew it really wasn't, his face also did the same since you also didn't hold one either. your expression still remained calm like he was not asking for a divorce as you closed your book and then put it back on the coffee table.

meanwhile, satoru couldn't read you at this moment because you were quiet, too quiet for his liking. were you so shocked that you couldn't react to his sudden cut of ties? or was it just you already expected this the moment when you woke up?

probably, the most accurate reason and answer was the second one. satoru watches you lean on the seat with your hands clasp on your lap. he also never fails to see the neutral glaze in your eyes.

"if you are wondering why i didn't hold any emotion as you speak, that's because i already reacted a year ago." a sigh escalated from your lips as you removed your glasses also and put it on the table.

"you expected that this day would come?" he said in silence while secretly fiddling with the calluses on his hand—a hidden and canonical habit of satoru whenever he feels anxious and worried.

before this day would come, the two of you got married when both of you were twenty. a young, dumb, and somehow not stupid but definitely reckless who took a big tramp of change among themselves.

satoru was the one who asked you to get married after almost four years of being inside an on and off relationship. that was very fast and very reckless at that time—but of course you agreed because you are a fool to get yourself blinded by your love towards him.

so, the two of you got married and with only some people whom you both held close dearly attended the said wedding. it was simple and civil, but to you, it was your everything. the wedding and this marriage mean so much to you.

your marriage went pretty well in your first few months of being married. both of you got yourself a house with a nice garden that you absolutely adore, you also got yourselves a work almost instantly too. satoru got more missions since he was now a graduate, while you work in your own cafe and occasionally take jujutsu stuff.

things were really fine with heaven as the witness. until one night during your almost first anniversary, you caught him going home around three to four o'clock in the morning with a smell of alcohol and woman's perfume that's definitely not yours. he's really drunk, which was weird because he hates alcohol. you wondered what's the occasion or any celebration that should be celebrated and whatnots, but you can't think of any. so that leads you to silently crying.

you did not confront him about your first suspicion of cheating, you want him to admit it himself, but that doesn't mean you're going to tolerate that piece of shit because for god's sake! there's a fucking hickey on his neck that night, you knew it wasn't yours since you've barely had an intercourse due to both of your busy schedules.

you remember asking him about his whereabouts that night like you weren't aware, but his answer just disappoints you, he told you that he had an emergency mission and needed him in action asap at kyoto around 11pm and it took him some time to finish it. as mentioned before, his answer disappoints you, because your assumption has been partially proven.

satoru was clearly lying about his whereabouts that night but still the cheating allegations were not clear. maybe the seemingly foreign hickeys on his neck was already evidence but you're probably still in denial, so you didn't instantly conclude that he was really cheating with you.

but you still couldn't shake off his illicit affairs. why? because satoru was lying about the emergency mission on kyoto. he wasn't there, you knew that because you were the one who took the mission, not him. satoru actually rejected the mission because he's busy with other matters so you took it yourself without even telling him.

all of these things that are happening leads you back to that day when he proposed to you. it was so sudden that it made you a little bit skeptical. but when you asked him why he suddenly asked you to get married? easy, you didn't know.

however, you had your hypothesis that after geto disappeared and went on his rebellious phase, you let gojo use you to relieve his grief. that is why when you realize that this marriage is meant to not last long, you secretly cry to yourself during your first year anniversary as a married couple.

meanwhile, satoru knew to himself that he couldn't stand a long-term relationship. though he also started to feel bad for making things go very quickly with you, his love towards you is pure and genuine. in fact, he would do anything just to keep you safe and happy. but he wasn't able to do that when you're the opposite of him.

he is selfish and you are selfless.

no matter how hard he tried to change or even make things up for you, he just couldn't do it. there's this invisible dark string that pulls him inside the void of darkness. and he couldn't afford to bring you down with him. the thing that geto did really left a scar, a permanent scar to his chest that creates an inescapable hole that keeps on growing bigger and sucking his life in the process.

while you, you fully commit yourself to him. that's why everything would be pointless for satoru to let himself get hurt just to protect you. because you would literally throw yourself in the fire when he's burning.

it was like the two of you are a magnet with the same pole. you can't attract each other no matter how hard you try to let them collide.

back to reality, your head was faced downward. your husband sought for your eyes by calling your name meticulously, but you refused. an internal laugh at your pathetic figure rang through your mind, you are laughing at yourself for believing that you are already prepared for this moment, turns out, you're not—you’ll never be.

satoru mumbles your name again. and all of the sudden, you just let out a nod, followed by a small sigh. you let yourself look at him again despite the unnoticed tears in your eyes.

"okay, but let's spend this whole day as husband and wife for the last time. let's do the things we usually do during our free time." you said, and satoru agrees with you almost instantly. he thinks this is the least thing he could do for you before setting each other free.

everything went normal for the rest of the day. satoru takes you out for lunch, visits your favorite cafe for desserts, and even goes to the park where he asked you out to be his wife.

and right now, the two of you are in the cemetery, specifically in haibara's graveyard. the sun was proceeding to its dusk, making the place a bit solemn because of its ambience.

"do you think he'll be mad at my decision?" your soon-to-be ex-husband asked you with his small tired voice. haibara was your bestest friend of all and he actually talked to gojo when he's still alive about his relationship with you. he would like gojo to take care of you and treat you more than you deserve in your entire life.

"i don't think so. haibara only wants the best for us. he's a man of freedom, after all. and yet, how ironic because he, himself, has no freedom during his time in the jujutsu." you answered him as you watched the candle burn itself.

satoru looked at you. "how about you, y/n? are you mad at my decision?" he asked you a bit hesitant.

you just smiled at him and said, "i will answer that later, satoru." satoru nodded at your answer, he understood that you had a lot to say to him later.

after some time, you two decided to go home to your shared apartment. the journey back was fun and relaxing, it was filled with smiles and laughter that will soon vanish as the dawn is coming.

6:00 PM

both of you arrived at home. you helped satoru hang his coat on the raker like you usually do whenever he comes home during winter. this small act is something that would be definitely missed by him dearly, since you will not be around to do it.

"thanks for agreeing to go out with me." you said to him with a smile that almost reached your eyes. the only thing that stops you from giving your bestest smile was the divorce, but you subside because this is your last day as a married couple. you have to enjoy it to the extent.

"that was the least thing i could do for you before…nevermind." he said. satoru was not cheerful enough to make you smile whenever your eyes met. you also noticed that he was downhearted since you visited haibara's graveyard.

though as you were heading in your shared apartment, he was smiling and laughing. guess you didn't overlook him at all and you failed to notice his hidden pain.

you watched him lay down on the couch. "you looked bothered. was it because i didn't answer your question earlier?" you said quietly.

satoru didn't say anything, and according to his vocabulary, silence means yes. you sigh to yourself and take a seat on the same couch where your husband was lying in.

your hand reached out for his face, cupping it as satoru looked at you with his hooded eyelids. those magical six blue eyes are staring at you with known emotion, pain and agony.

"you didn't ask me why i suddenly wanted to get divorce…" he mumbles, nestling his head in your palm.

"you agreed without questioning me. i don't even see you cry about this. why y/n? are you hurting yourself by keeping your emotions inside you?" he continued. the pain in his voice breaks your heart into bits of pieces. satoru looked so vulnerable, his true emotions are showing exclusively for you.

you let out a small but bitter chuckle. "crying is not part of the things we usually do during our free time together, toru." his eyes widened at your answer. a droplet of tears slide down on your palm. satoru was crying, and you let him weep because you knew he's pent up.

"and i'm not mad at you. i also didn't ask you any questions because i know you know what you are doing and i respect your decision." you added.

"although, i admit. i want to bawl my eyes out. i want to scream because my heart is aching for believing that i was prepared for this moment." your breathings started to become shaky also just by watching satoru weep under your touch.

you refused to cry. at least not now.

"but i don't want to ruin this day by crying. i want both of us to savor this moment with smiles and laughter. so that when we part our ways, we wouldn't have any regrets to hold."

"so, satoru…let's continue to spend the rest of our night happily, hmm?" you let yourself smile for him to be motivated to stop from crying. however, he did the opposite. satoru cried even harder.

your hand is being cradled by him. you could feel his tears on your palm followed by his little hiccups. this scene alone in front of was usually enough to make you cry even harder than him. it was utterly heartbroken to see your man cry like this.

"hush, my…" love, that's the word you would like to say but forbids you to do so. satoru also noticed it too and he absolutely hates the feeling of it.

"l-love. call me love. c-call me like you used to call me before. first name basis is not part of the things we usually do during our free time together." he mimicked your words earlier. though it may sound like a joke, it isn't. satoru has been dead serious since the beginning of the day.

"my love…"

"y-yes, my sweetheart?" he responded.

your lips quiver from the overflowing emotions in your chest, but you still refuse to let yourself cry even when you're all by yourself. god, you are hopeless and devastated.

but dear me, it felt so good to hear him call you with endearing words. oh how you wish this kind of moment would last forever. maybe in another life, it would be. only if fate would be kind enough to give satoru to you again, maybe it will and it would be.

8:00 PM

satoru was all alone. his eyes were puffy from crying and stuff. he was such a mess. and if anyone would see, they would probably think that he's a zombie because of how low energy he was.

it took him almost an hour to stop crying. and you declared that this is the first and would be the last time that you would see him cry very hard.

right now, he was currently packing his things as he was about to move out tonight while playing betty by taylor swift. somehow, his mood got even more affected by this song, for every lyric hits him hard and he doesn't know why.

"♪ you heard the rumors from inez, you can't believe a word she says ♪" the radio sang. a shaky sigh came out from his mouth, he felt like crying again.

“♪ most times, but this time, it was true ♪”

"let me help you pack your things." you suddenly barge inside your onced shared bedroom after cleaning up for tonight. you are also in your sleep wear when satoru looks at you.

“♪ the worst thing that i ever did, was what i did to you ♪”

you didn't fail to notice that he is listening to one of your favorite artist's songs. a flashback hits you, it was the moment where you persuade him to listen to it with you. now, he has grown invested in their songs.

he mumbles a small okay as he watches you sit down beside him and redo the messy clothes he just stuffed inside his luggage. most of his clothes were luxurious like polo shirts, slacks pants, coats, and his favorite, blindfolds.

your eyes soften when you come across a small pouch that contains hair ties and bobby pins you onced bought for him as a prank. you still remembered the moment he let you tie his messy white locks with colorful pins and he looked so incredibly pretty with it. you couldn't help but to feel yourself getting emotional again.

don't cry. don't cry. don't cry.

meanwhile, satoru remained very quiet, for he was staring at the photo in his hand. it was your wedding photo where the both of you are wearing traditional japanese attire. he couldn't help but stare at your smiling face for too long. you looked so beautiful.

the wedding was very simple, but satoru describes it as one of his happiest days, and he is not lying to himself whenever he would say that. because he onced dreamed of getting married to you, and it came true. he also had the same state as you, both on the verge of crying.

"i wonder…would you get remarried someday?" he asked out of the sudden. you shifted your gaze to him and found him staring at your wedding photo. instantly, your eyes went soft.

"i am not sure." you replied silently as you closed his luggage and proceeded to the other one.

your hands momentarily stop working as you stare at them and watch it shake. "but if i do, it would probably take me a decade or so to find another husband to love." you said. but truth to be told, you had no motivation left to find another husband.

"you're twenty-two right now. so like…you'll be thirty plus by then when that happens," he calculated. "how about you? would you consider getting remarried also?" you asked him the same question.

he thinks for a moment before nodding slightly. "probably yes." your heart let out a wince but you tried your best to hide it. those words unintentionally hurt you and cut you deeper than a knife.

"w-well, i just wished good luck for both of us in the future." the crack in your voice didn't go unnoticed by satoru. he was about to reach you but then eventually dropped it. "me too…" was all he could say.

"anyway, do you mind if i ask…where are you staying after this?" you trailed off.

"i'll stay with higuruma for a day before moving out to my new apartment. speaking of that man, i told him to be here around midnight. so we still have four hours to be together." he answered

"...yeah."

10:00 PM

the two of you are sitting on the same seat just like this morning in the balcony. you are wearing your favorite cardigan as satoru was in his coat to fight the cold weather of the night.

all of his things were already packed and ready to leave. soon, you'll be alone and this house will not be lively as usual because his presence will be missed.

both of you refuse to say a word, yet. because you two are scared to have another breakdown that made this marriage even harder to break. especially satoru, he was aware that deep inside him he was not ready to let you go. he was just lying to himself because he is aware that he can heal if he gives himself some time.

"y/n, can i hold you here in my arms?" satoru swallowed all of the bitterness he felt for leaving you just to hold you again, for one last time. you slowly stood up from your and came towards in front of him.

your soon-to-be ex-husband gazes upon you. however, you refuse to meet those warm eyes that you loved the most. satoru slowly pulls you into his lap and cradles you like his greatest treasure, which you definitely is.

when your face hits his shoulder, you couldn't help but to hide your face deeper into his neck. "the place i'm going to stay afterwards is far from here. are you sure you will be okay?" he whispers in your ears.

"yeah, i'll be fine." you nodded solemnly. "i also planned to stop from my work for a while." you added.

"why?" satoru raises his eyebrow. he thought you loved your job as a barista. you enjoyed making coffee and wherever there's extra pastries left in the cafe, you would take it home for him to try it.

"don't worry, i had a lot of fortune that could last for a century. and besides, you even said i had a midas touch, so surviving won't be too hard for me." when your parents died, they left all of their fortune to you. so that makes you an instant millionaire and nobody knows that beside your husband.

satoru gently pushes you to meet his eyes. "i think this moment is perfect to give all of my secrets away. i don't need any perfect lies to hide from you anymore." he tucked the loose hair on the back of your ear, admiring your beautiful frame under the pale moonlight.

he gulped nervously, and for some reason, you're becoming very anxious about what he's going to tell. all you had to do was to wait for him to speak his thoughts out.

"the reason why i want to divorce is to have a new life and forget about the past. that includes you, y/n." though he only started, millions of knives already stabbed your poor heart. your eyes stared at him, a bit widely.

satoru couldn't bear to look at your pained expression, but he forced himself to look at you. so that you would feel his sincerity. "before suguru disappeared, he once told me to choose another path of life. he told me to run away from the jujutsu, run away from my life." he said, almost whispering.

"although, i want you to come with me. but…"

"i somehow got myself involved with the jujutsu too?" you continued it for him. satoru falls silent, so that means yes, it is true.

satoru cups your face. "i'm sorry, y/n. i really, really love you. but this is not the right path for us. you'll get more hurt if you continue to get tangled with me. so, after a lot of thinking and consideration…"

"i became selfish once again. i chose myself over you, y/n."

for the nth time, the walls you have been building around your emotional state are starting to shake once more. you could feel the hot tears building in your eyes.

you will not cry. you will not cry. you will not cry.

"i-i understand…although, you don't have to apologize for choosing what is the best for you. i'm actually glad that you're finally doing it." you plant your palms over his hands on your cheeks, closing your eyes to swallow up those annoying tears.

"i'm such a bad husband, aren't i?" satoru chuckles weakly. what has he done to deserve you like this? your understandment is something that he greatly admires in you. your heart is pure like an angel from above.

an angel like you can't fly down hell with him.

but god, you're making yourself willing to go down with him without any hesitation and that is just completely wrong.

and for the past years, satoru would make a mistake and you are there to correct him patiently. he would always tell himself to make something and make everything up for you. but who would have thought a divorce is the best thing to do?

"to be honest, not at all. remember what i told you before we got married? you are the fire and i'm the—"

"gasoline?"

"no silly, that's a song." your laugh brightens up the atmosphere. satoru smiled at your happy demure, he likes seeing you this joyful.

"you are the fire and i'm the fireman. a fireman would not function completely when there is no fire. meaning, why would i, a fireman, be here if there's no you, a fire." you raised your fingers to help you visualize your point.

"does that make sense to you?"

satoru shook his head. "no."

you snapped your finger. "exactly! you think i'm bad at explaining things, while i think of myself as great at explaining things. that's the same as you thinking you're a bad husband, while i think of you as a great husband."

"..."

"i made you speechless, meaning you agree and i'm great at philosophy!" you boosted yourself by imagining a crowd was giving you a round of applause.

your husband wonders for a moment before cackling a laugh. "that still didn't make sense to me but it brought a lot of comfort to me. thank you, y/n."

"come on! just admit you love my philosophical nonsense." you pouted, hitting his shoulder playfully.

satoru laughed once again, pulling you by waist as he buried his face in your hair. "of course i do. i love everything about you." and he would still do, always and forever.

"i'm going to miss this." you mumbled as you relaxed on his touch. satoru also agrees, kissing your head all over again.

"and i'm going to miss you too, a lot." he said sincerely. the two of you held the longest stare on this day. you just let yourselves drown with each other's enticing orbs.

satoru was the first one to break the record by sighing and rubbing his eyes. the truth is, he couldn't bear to look at you any longer because he could see how broken you looked through your eyes just because of him. instead, he hides his face once more on your neck.

“i'm really, really, really sorry, y/n. i'm so sorry for using you. i’m so sorry for cheating on you. i’m so sorry for hurting you. i'm so sorry for not choosing you again. i'm so sorry for being selfish. i'm so sorry for everything." there it is, again. his hot tears are back and now drenching your shoulder.

"i used you as a getaway from my sins and from the grief that day, y/n. you should've said no when i asked you to marry me, but why did you do the opposite?" his voice became slightly thicker, he's definitely frustrated.

"i did it for love, satoru." you answered without hesitation.

satoru momentarily stopped crying as his breath hitch. "yes, i'm already aware of your true intentions that day. but i still chose to marry you because i love you. i know it sounds so dumb but it's true." you continued.

you could feel his arms around your body tighten, scared of letting you go from nothing. it was like he was begging the gods, if there was one seeing the both of them right now, to let him be delusional and not take you away from him.

"let me ask you this time, do you regret marrying me?" you whispered.

your husband looked at you with unshed tears. "i don't. but i regret that this is the end of us."

why is it always the time where someone would tell their true feelings when everything is falling apart? so if this divorce wouldn't happen, does that mean his word would be forever kept inside him?

"i've always wanted to tell you that i was actually glad that you became my wife. i thought you would be my endgame. instead, you became the reason why i am still here and breathing."

the void of regret is slowly pulling him inside. but you are there to make sure that he would survive the gravitational pull. you just loved him so you will help to let you go.

"i love you, my sweetheart, my y/n, m-my wife..."

12:00 AM

it was quiet, really, really quiet. higuruma was looking at the two of you all over again. his eyes showed sympathy for both of you and he was sad because this is the end for you and satoru.

right now, both of you are staring blankly at the divorce paper on the table. no one was making a first move by signing it.

you let out a sigh, a heavy feeling was buried deep in your heart. your whole body feels so numb and you still haven't cried for today. everything feels so wrong, yet at the same time it feels right. you don't know what to do anymore.

as you recall your conversation with him, you just wished it didn't end and would continue forever. because you know you'll never get tired of hearing his voice, his laugh, and his philosophical nonsense too.

not to mention, you've also dreamed of building a family with him. a mini satoru and mini y/n sounds nice, doesn't it? as your eyes wandered across this apartment, you can depict your children with him running around. god, if you were dreaming, please don't wake up.

"higuruma, can you please just wait for me in the car…? i-i would like to have a final conversation with my wife." satoru suddenly spoke and nanami left without hesitation.

"so this is it?"

"yeah, t-this is the end." satoru chuckles breathlessly. there was like a big chuck on his throat that made him feel suffocating. truth to be told, he doesn't want this to be the end. but again, he has to.

"thank you for giving me a total of the best six years of my life, toru. i mean it, thank you." you counted the first four years of your relationship and the two years of your marriage. playing with your hands to mend the shakiness, it was a constant reminder that only a few minutes left before the surname satoru would be stripped of your name.

"thank you too, y/n. i also had so much fun and love these past six years. thank you for all of the things you have done for me." he said silently.

all this time, you are the only one looking at him because his eyes were focused on the paper in front of him. "good luck on your new path. i wish you the best." you intentionally called his attention.

"you're really staying here in this apartment…alone?" satoru asked you.

you let yourself smile slightly as you shifted into a more comfortable position. "yeah… just in case you feel homesick, this would be a reminder that you still have a home…only if you want to." the air in this room is very thick and it's suffocating you.

"t-thank you, y/n, really." he expressed his gratitude once again.

a nagging feeling tells you that satoru was about to go back on his decision at any minute. and you too would probably go back to your decisions you had set for both of you. it would be more devastating for you if satoru didn't achieve his plans for himself in the near future.

"let's not make higuruma wait."

satoru falls silent. now he was stuck in a madness of a dilemma. in short, he was starting to rethink his decision to the point that he didn't notice he was staining the divorce paper with tears. his hands began to shake violently along with his cries becoming louder any minute.

satoru finally lost his cool as he wailed loudly in front of you. the sound of his sobs made you clench your lip as your chest tightened once more.

you on the other hand, you're trying your best not to slip any tears down from your cheeks. you successfully stopped them from falling this morning, you couldn't afford to cry not because there's only a few minutes left before you would let yourself fall into a pit of sadness.

sensing that neither of you would make a move, you are aware that satoru couldn't bring himself to do it even though he had to. so, you gently steal the paper away from him.

divorce agreement…it read. oh how you despise those two words.

"satoru, i mentioned to you a while ago that the reason why i want to spend this last day as a married couple is because i want us to leave without holding any regrets." you started with your pen touching the paper. satoru's eyes widened, he wanted to stop you from doing it but nothing was coming out from his mouth.

"i can see it in your eyes, you're doubting your decisions." you continued as you wrote your name. in satoru's horror, only your signature is needed and everything would be over for him.

however, you stopped writing. you tapped the table to gather his attention to you. there he saw you smiling dearly at him.

"did you have fun spending time with me this whole day?" satoru knows your intention. you are encouraging him to do what he was supposed to do even if it means leaving you.

"yes…yes i do, i enjoyed being with you." he stuttered. the tears were still streaming down his face and he was using his sleeve to wipe it. you reached for the tissue and gave it to satoru as you watched him wiped his eyes and blow his nose.

"that's good to hear. i also had fun being with you. not only for this day, but the whole time i was with you, i enjoyed it." you grabbed his hands to soothe it by massaging those long and calloused fingers. satoru watches you and eventually becomes slightly calm by your actions.

you inched your lips into his fingers and kissed it delicately just like he used to do with you before. everything went blur to him and only the sound of your sweet nothing was audible into his messy world.

"i know you'll be doing great with or without me. so satoru, put more faith in yourself. this is another big step for us, and i want you to be ready just like i am." you swiftly slide the divorce paper in front of him. but this time, it has your signature on it.

satoru felt like he was being showered by the cold water as he stared at the paper with pure horror evident on his face. you finally did it, so there is no turning back now.

"h-how—when…! when did you sign it?" his voice cracked due to his frazzled emotions firing him repeatedly. satoru reaches the highest point of heartbreak he ever experienced in his life.

"when i gave you the tissue." you whispered weakly. to your dismay tears are only a slip away from your eyes a thousand times today.

"i don't want to sign it. i don't want to! i don't want to leave you anymore y/n!" he yelled. you accepted his lash out with open arms, but you can't do anything anymore. you finally signed the divorce settlement, and this paper wouldn't go if there's no signature of satoru.

you suddenly pull him into a passionate yet heartbroken kiss to shut him up. satoru eventually responds to your kiss, becoming more emotional than ever. while you are busy keeping him in company, you sneakily put the pen in his hand.

satoru felt an object in his palm, he knew you're telepathically telling him to sign the paper but he still refuses to acknowledge it, at least not yet. as he continues to devour your lips, his eyes are still producing salt tears that add more emotions in the atmosphere.

"i could see a bright future ahead of you, satoru." you muttered between the kisses.

"mhmp—you should grab it, please." you continued to deepen the kiss to lure him. but he voluntarily stepped away just to make a counter argument for that.

"but i could lose you if i do that." he whispers solemnly.

"we've already lost each other when we realized that everything was going too fast for both of us." you chuckled bitterly at your statement. "that it why it is time to face the consequences, by setting us free." you added.

"do…do you really want to do this?" he hiccups.

"this is what fate wants us to do." your voice is soothing as hell. it held no grudges nor resentment, just pure calm and adoration towards him.

but satoru still didn't bug and he still doesn't want to sign the papers.

your gaze never leaves him as satoru buries his face on his palm, weeping so quietly that you could almost hear a pin drop. it was getting so hard to watch so you looked away and slowly walked away.

"i am going out for a bit." you mumbled quietly, not waiting for him to reply or look as you walked away with your whole body shaking.

outside, there you saw higuruma leaning on his car exterior. "hey…" you greeted weakly. higuruma looked at you with a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

"hey…how did it go?" higuruma asked, his gaze falling on the papers in your hands.

"emotional." you joked.

"so, that's the end now?"

"...yep, that's the end now."

silence engulfed both of you, just your almost steady breathings and his observing orbs burning through your skin.

"never thought satoru could cry harder than he did when geto-san…you know." higuruma said, sighing as he tucks his hands on his pockets.

you nodded. "i know. satoru lost suguru literally, while he only lost me through relationship. he'd become more vulnerable around me, and that scares the hell out of me."

"i, his weakness, has become more exposed to his enemies. i know sooner or later, they would swoon to get me just to make him fall on his knees. we don't want that to happen, i don't want to be a bait nor a cause of his downfall. temporarily or permanently, satoru must not fall, no, not anymore." you continued.

"y/n-san, i hope you would also realize that failures, downfalls, mistakes, and damages are unavoidable, gojo-kun is no exception to all of that." higuruma argues.

"satoru is going to live a good life and have a future that he deserves, so who am i to halt it?” you ignored what he said because you know he was right.

“this is a big step for both of you. i just wished that everything would go well for the two of you.” higuruma smiled at you.

“we will, eventually.” you return the smile and then excuse yourself to go back inside, just to see satoru still crying nonstop.

approaching his figure, you wrapped your arms around his body to console the man. “don't go back to me now, satoru. if you cannot bring yourself to let go, then i will help you.” you whispered into his hair.

satoru pulled away just to look at you with his teary eyes. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m really sorry.” he keeps on apologizing to you, while you just smile at him and wipe the tears in his eyes.

“it's alright, satoru. i already forgave you a long time ago.” you said.

“i can't sign it. i don't want to sign that anymore.” he confessed. a small form made its way to your temple” “but this is for both of us. don't you want to have a brand new start? how can we thrive when we both have shackles on our feet?”

“i-i thought everything was easy. i thought i could l-let you go that easily. but i was wrong. it's so hard to let go of us, y/n. and as much as i would like to do what i meant to do, it's just so hard to see us disappear from our now individual lives.” satoru buries his face on your stomach. your hands immediately made its way towards his hair as tears are threatening you once again.

“it's hard to let you go too, satoru. but it would be harder to see you suffer more when you're here with me.” it was getting late and satoru was still amidst the crisis, but you are determined to get him out of there.

“look at me, toru.” you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you. “you’ve still got a whole world to see. so don't you ever get worried about me because i’ll be more happy to see you free without any worries.

“go live a life that you weren't able to do when we were still kids. do what you always wanted to do.”

“and just so you know, i will always love you and you will always have a special place in my home.” you put his hand to your left chest where your heart lies. “here, satoru. you'll always be here.”

satoru pulled you into the tightest hug since it was literally the last and you wouldn't mind. reciprocating the hug, you finally smiled whole-heartedly and it even reached your eyes.

“whatever happens, i love you, y/n. i love you more than anything. i have loved you since the first time i saw you. and i will always love you even if this would be the last time i would see you.” throughout the six years that you two had been together, from boyfriend-girfriend relationship until to marriage—this was the very first time he declared his love to you with so much intensity.

your eyes nearly gave up on how long you've been trying to hold your tears. but you still swore that night that you'll never shed a tear unless satoru is out of the scene because you knew how much effect your crying causes him.

to hide your emotions, you pull him closer and share the last and passionate kiss as two persons who share the same surname are binded by the law. both of you could feel the emotions begin to overflow as things become more sensitive.

you were the first one to pull away as satoru was still crying. cradling his cheeks, you connected your foreheads together and said again, “let's not make higuruma wait any further.”

satoru knew it was time, time for him to finally sign the divorce paper that he's been planning for a month now.

he expected this one too just like you, so it shouldn't hurt, but why is his heart still aching? with a final stroke of his signature, satoru felt so empty. his soul feels like missing and something was taken away from him.

both have done it—a trial away and the marriage will no longer be valid. there would be no mr. and mrs. gojo now because both will live differently.

grabbing the paper with your shaky hands, you turn around at satoru and give him the final hug with a final kiss. “good luck on your new life, satoru. i’ll always cheer for you and support you until the end.”

“thank you so much, y/n. i really mean it.”

and with that, you and satoru shared the same sad smile you could utter at that moment. sure, this night will end bittersweet, but tomorrow is a brand new start.

you watched satoru walk solemnly towards the car. he looked like a ghost wandering around the vicinity without any will to search for the true paradise for him to rest. it really broke your heart that this is the end for both of you.

and with now fully signatured divorce paper on his hands, satoru felt that each step he took, he felt like fainting on the spot because of how devastating he felt.

but you cannot undo everything now. satoru had officially become your sweet memory and a stranger on the street at the same time. just as he was about to go inside the car, you called out for his name one last time.

your ex-husband looked at you with tired, red, and puffy eyes. you let yourself give the bestest smile you could offer at this moment. a smile entitled one last smile before saying a goodbye.

"if we found each other in another world, let me be your wife again!"

satoru's eyes glisten with tears once more. nevertheless, he also offers you the bestest smile he could manage. he is now letting his broken heart go out of your grasp. forcing himself to swallow and accept that in this lifetime, you are no longer his.

but if the two of you would be reborn or somewhere in the multiverse, he would pray that the two of you got the life you onced failed to build, and that was something he would wish for forever.

"of course! and i will choose you this time. we would make a family that we once dreamt of, and i will give you the honor to name our children." satoru yelled back, making your smile widen.

you could finally rest knowing that there would be a lifetime waiting for both of you somewhere in the future. and this time, you are not being delusional because you know it'll be going to happen and you'll make it happen.

"emi!"

"what?" satoru halted his steps to focus his attention on you.

"i want our first born daughter to be named emi." you've actually dreamed of having a child with him, in that dream, her name is emi. it was like a sign to you, so when you woke up, you immediately searched its meaning and found out that emi means blessed.

you are blessed.

both of you definitely feel blessed to have each other.

that being said, you have kept that name for a while now. sooner, you wished that name would be used with satoru's surname entangled to it.

because in this life, it was unfortunate not to use the name emi. you only want to use that name with him and only him. for you lived with him, loved him, and dreamed with him.

but patience is a virtue. you are willing to wait for that dream, for him. time is not a problem to you because you'd be fully patient just for him.

"have a safe journey, gojo satoru. i will be waiting for you in our next lives." you gently bow your head to send your wish for his safety.

with that, satoru enters the car without looking at you anymore. he was afraid that if he looked at you, he might find himself running back into your loving arms again.

"we'll be going now, y/n." higuruma rolled the window and waved a farewell to you.

you just nod at him while you watch the car slowly disappear from your eyesight. sad but true, you will be waking up all alone from now on 'till your thirties.

no more satoru to wake you up with cuddles. no more satoru who would make corny jokes randomly. no more satoru to who would always remind you that you have a husband. just no more satoru gojo—

drip…

a tear, followed by another, and another until it just flows uncontrollably. you are finally a crying-mess. you're letting yourself cry and let your emotions out by a shout of pain escaping out from your lips.

it was all over.

satoru chooses his life over you, and you choose satoru over your life. with your knees planted on the pavement, your hand travels towards your mouth to cover your loud painful sobs.

all of the tears that you had been keeping since this morning, finally had their freedom to flow at your cheeks along with anguish scream that came out of your broken heart.

you finally lost this time.

[a special chapter will be posted soon, so stay tuned and just comment if you want to be added on the taglist for this one — ©luvvixu2024]

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #anime #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk satoru #luvvixu #gojo satoru angst #satoru angst #angst #jjk angst #jjk gojo

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bboricha · 1 year

Text

happy birthday ayato💞

➳ pairings: arranged marriage!kamisato ayato x virgin wife fem!reader ➳ wc: 1.8k ➳ cw: not proofread, fingering, squirting, unprotected, breeding if u squint, marking, mentions of "traditional" wife roles, arranged marriage, size kink if u squint, lmk if i've missed any! ➳ synopsis: you married the yashiro commissioner a little less than a year ago.

it was arranged, of course. you were always told ever since you were a kid that it would be your duty to get married and to be a good wife for your husband, taking lessons on embroidery, cooking, cleaning, and even more—you were prepared for marriage, but it seems ayato didn’t share the same sentiment.

when you first got married to him, he never showed any sign of displeasure, nor did he actually resist this arrangement. but he also never acted like a husband towards you. you didn’t even consummate your marriage! you remember that night so vividly, you were waiting in your room after your wedding ceremony, dolled up with beautiful lingerie to match, but he never showed up. you waited and waited even until the sun had risen, and it was only then did the tears come out of humiliation. his message was obvious and you weren’t one to ignore what he was saying, but you also didn’t want to create a bad relationship between you two.

despite the shame you felt, you bit your tongue and tried to at least be civil with him. it’s not as if he was actually mean to you, he just had no interest in actually making your marriage feel… well, like a marriage. and you knew that, you knew that all too well, but it was the moments when he would wipe the sweat off your brow after you helped thoma clean the estate, when you would bring him a coffee at night while he was still hard at work and he would ask you to join him for a little break—it was the little things that he did that make your heart flutter despite there being no romantic intent behind his words and actions. and so you, perhaps stupidly, ended up falling for him. it gave you hope that maybe you can make your marriage into a real one.

so when his birthday came around this year, you were determined to do something special for him. it was the least you could do, especially considering that he saw it in him to do something for yours as well, even if it was just a gift (although expensive), you were still touched. it would only be right of you to do something for him, right? asking thoma and ayaka to assist, you made sure his schedule would be clear for the day. making him only his favorite foods and his favorite boba, taking him to ritou to show him a new bookstore you thought he’d like, ending the day by taking him to a hotel you’ve booked for the night and giving your gift to him.

you both sat on the tatami floor as you pulled out the special shogi set you’ve commissioned just for him. you knew how much he enjoyed playing shogi—even if he does play most of the time with his back facing the board—you thought that he’d appreciate a nicer shogi set than the one he’s been using. he traces his hand against the pearly white pieces, accented with a touch of blue, and he smiles fondly. you’re just so sweet to him. a good wife, all for him. he just has to reward your behavior, doesn’t he?

he reaches out to you, pushing a strand of hair out of your face and you blush in response. he chuckles a bit, you’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? he pulls you in for a kiss, the first once since the two of you have gotten married, and you already feel your head getting a little foggy. you can feel his tongue prodding at your lips and you let him in, feeling his soft lips get hotter and hotter with each kiss. he pulls away momentarily before lifting you up, bringing you to the king sized bed. he trails kissing along your neck to your exposed collarbone, leaving a few marks along the way as your breathing begins to get heavy. he gets rid of your pesky kimono, baring your body to him as he takes in the sight. it was truly unfortunate that he had to be so stubborn in the earlier stages of your marriage—if only he got to see this sight sooner, maybe you would’ve been pregnant by now with the heir to the kamisato clan.

you whine for him to continue kissing you and he obliges, playing with your breast as he rolls your nipple against his gloved fingers. he pulls away again, removing his gloves with his teeth and promptly presses his lips against yours, massaging his bare hand across your stomach, towards your cunt. you jump in surprise when you feel his calloused fingers against your clit, softly rubbing figure eights.

“tell me,” he says in between kisses, his voice quiet, “what is it that you want me to do…?” he watches as your eyes widen at the question, your hand tugging at his jacket.

“i’m yours, so…” you avert your eyes, embarrassed by what you’re about to say next, “please do as you like…” he smiles at your obedience, completely satisfied by your answer. he couldn’t have a wife more perfect than you, and it was about time he rewarded your patience.

he presses his fingers on your entrance, feeling how wet you became with just a few kisses. it was wrong of him, he supposes, to keep you waiting for so long. but it’s alright, he’ll make it up to you tonight. he pushes a finger in as it slides in easily and you moan, it’s just one finger, but it’s already more than what you’ve been doing to yourself for the past several months, you can just imagine how he would feel inside you entirely. he takes your other nipple into his mouth and pops in another finger, caressing them skillfully against your walls and you cum. you’re shocked, embarrassed, even. because yes, you are a virgin, but you’ve also never came with just penetration before, let alone this quickly, but ayato seems to have other thoughts. he feels the last bit of his chivalrous nature snap when he saw you cum just from two of his fingers and he needs to take you now.

he makes quick work of his clothes and tosses them somewhere on the floor of your hotel room, discarded and forgotten. you feel his head prodding at your hole and you’re surprised by the sheer size of his length. you were simultaneously scared and needy—you’ve never taken in anything more than two or three of your own tiny, thin fingers—you weren’t quite sure how ayato was planning on fitting inside of you. he sees your hesitation and worries, and god, you’re just so adorable, it was turning him on even more. he just wants to absolutely ruin you, to make sure you check out tomorrow morning with his seed deeply sowed in you, dripping out onto your thighs as you squeeze them together to keep it inside of you.

he kisses your temple gently, telling you to not worry, that he’ll take care of you as he pushes his cock in slowly, making you focus even more on the stretch. when he bottoms out, you feel so, so full, and you’re just so sensitive, considering you came not too long ago. he groans against the crook of your neck at how tight you are, fitting around him like a glove. you’re just absolutely perfect for him, the way you hug his cock so nicely, he’s sure to get addicted. he’s just concerned that one night at this hotel might not be enough.

he begins thrusting into you, his strokes long, fast, and hard, making you moan so loud that the entire floor is bound to hear you. he always wondered what kind of noises you would’ve made, and they truly don’t compare to the real thing. he ponders on his regrets again before putting his attention back on you, moving to lick and suckle at any part of your body, throwing in a couple of bites here and there to mark you up officially as his. marks that he will have to remake every couple of days to make sure that they’ll always be there, always claiming you as his. he hits one specific spot that has stars swimming before your eyes, making you tighten against his cock, leaving a creamy white ring around him. he smirks, focusing his ministrations there and letting his hand roam towards your puffy clit, abusing the tiny nub as you’re brought to your second orgasm of the night, squirting slick against ayato’s abdomen.

you’re ashamed, thinking you’ve wet yourself as you go to cover your face with your hand, pushing ayato away with the other as he coos at you, telling you that it was cute, to not worry as he pushes your chest towards the bedding, raising your ass instead so he can enter from behind. he grabs your arms, pulling on them as he resumes thrusting into you, hitting even deeper than before and you can’t help but cry. it’s so, so much for your tiny, messy cunt that you’re just so overwhelmed by this new sensation, but it’s also so… so good. your head is spinning and ayato lets go of your arms, letting you fall onto the bed as he hugs your tiny frame from behind, feeling his toned chest flush against your back. it’s so intimate this way—never would you have imagined when you first got married to him that you both would be in this position now. his thrusts are getting erratic and he pushes a hand on your lower back, making your arch at an angle that allows the head of his length to kiss the tip of your womb with each thrust perfectly.

“i’m close,” he says breathily into your ear as you take a moment to process that he’s said something.

“w—wait—” you try to speak up, but suddenly he stills, his cock fully submerged as you feel something warm flooding inside you.

“we’re a married couple,” he reminds you, “shouldn’t this be the only way?”

after a few moments, he pulls out, some of his seed spilling out of you much to his displeasure as he turns you around, plunging his fingers in to fuck his cum inside of you and you scream. a taut knot quickly forms in your lower stomach and is just as quick to snap as you cum all over his hand. when he doesn’t take them out immediately, you gently push at his wrist and try to pull yourself away from him in hopes for a little bit of rest, but to no avail. he cages you against the wall, pushing in his already hardened cock again as he whispers something into your ear, but you’re too far gone to catch what he’s saying.

➳ an: what did he say? 👁

#bboricha*:･ﾟ✧#bori writes*:･ﾟ✧#bori genshin*:･ﾟ✧#bori nsfw*:･ﾟ✧#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #ayato smut #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato smut #genshin impact ayato #genshin ayato #kamisato ayato x you #kamisato ayato imagines

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memento-rory · 3 months

Text

✭ 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭. 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒏𝒂𝒌𝒆.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re doing your best to remain civil and try to have a nice morning, but wrench after wrench gets thrown in your plan.

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader has ophidiophobia! (fear of snakes)

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~1.5k

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: as of posting this, i just got my 200th follower. that’s absolutely nuts, y’all.. thank you for loving my stuff and giving me a welcoming space to create for you. 🩵 enjoy!

Of course, even in your own fucking space, Schlatt couldn’t be far behind. Fucking typical. (You’d been really excited about the balcony, too.)

You shift your gaze up to the stars, silently asking whatever gods may be above what you’ve done to deserve this. They couldn’t even do you one solid.

“They can’t help you, doll.” Schlatt smirks up at the stars, taking another swig of his champagne, “It’s just you ‘n me out here.”

You hate that he knows what you were doing, that he still knows you so well.

He looks back over at you, an expectant look on his face, as if he’s just waiting for you to lose your cool.

“No,” You shake your head, yanking your own bottle of champagne from the ice bucket, ignoring the cold droplets of water that drip from the sweaty bottle onto your bare legs, “It’s just you out here.”

You turn away from him, sliding the door open, retreating into your hotel room for the night.

You change into your pajamas and wash your face while sipping on a glass of champagne. As you settle into bed, your phone pings from its spot on the nightstand.

> ams 🩵 has added you, james 😎, and J. Schlatt to a conversation!

> ams 🩵 has changed the group name to “wedding partaaay! 👰‍♀️🤵‍♂️”

> from: ams 🩵

>> rest up, my angels! big day tomorrow! 🌲🪼💦💃🏻🕺🏻

You heart react her message, laughing to yourself at her use of emojis, before placing your phone face down on the nightstand to get some much needed rest.

“Schlatt…” His name tumbles from your lips as he backs you up against the door, unable to keep his hands off of you. His lips trail from your jaw to your neck, his mutton chops scratching against your soft skin. “We shouldn’t.”

“Don’t say that.” Schlatt murmurs against your skin, “Don’t break my heart, (Y/N). Let me have this.”

Schlatt moves back up to your mouth as you let out a sigh of defeat. He tastes like whiskey and feels like heaven.

(It’s not like you mean any of your protests anyway. Both of you know this has been a long time coming, ever since James and Amelia introduced the two of you.)

Schlatt pulls away from you for just a second, long enough to open the door, but it’s locked. He scowls at it, pounding on the hardwood over and over and over…

You wake with a start, the sound of a hand banging against wood pulling you from your slumber. You look around groggily before realizing the sound is coming from your door.

You huff a sigh, throwing the blankets off of you as you hop out of the bed, stomping to the door of your hotel room. You don’t even look in the peephole, too annoyed to care about the person about to face your wrath on the other side.

You unlock the door and swing it open, letting out a loud, “What?!”

Schlatt is standing on the other side of the door, fully dressed in a t-shirt and board shorts, a hydration pack on his back. “You’re late.” He says, his eyes raking over your half-clothed body. You suddenly feel very vulnerable, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don’t have to get all shy,” Schlatt smirks, “I’m not interested, toots.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You snip back, and Schlatt’s smirk wavers just slightly. “What am I late for?”

“The hike you agreed to last night, dumbass.” Schlatt answers. That must have been what Amelia was asking you about in the Uber last night. “Get dressed. I’m not waiting for you.”

“I never asked you to.” You scowl at him, before slamming the door in his face.

It takes you no time at all to get dressed, and before anyone has any real time to complain about you being late, you’re meeting with everyone in the lobby.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Schlatt mumbles as you show up.

Scratch that. Schlatt always has time to complain about you.

“Yaaay!” Amelia claps her hands together, before looping her arm in yours, “Good morning, sweet pea. Did you sleep well?”

“For the most part,” You smile at her, “Couple bad dreams, but I’m all good.”

“Good, because I have a lot planned for today.”

“Can’t wait.” You say, genuinely. You figure Amelia and James will keep you all so busy that you won’t even have to deal with Schlatt all that much. “What’s on the agenda?”

“I was thinking we’d go get breakfast, and then head out for a hike. After that, we can come back here and cool off on the beach. Then there’s a boat ride, then maybe have a little free time to ourselves—“ She wiggles her eyebrows at you, and you fake-wretch at her, “And then hit a club or two.”

“Hell yeah,” You nod in approval at her list of activities, and she beams.

“God, I can’t wait to spend time with my favorite people in such a beautiful place,” Amelia muses, reaching out to pull Schlatt close, holding you both over the shoulders, “Thank you both for setting aside your differences to be here with us.”

Neither you nor Schlatt say anything.

Don’t thank us yet, you want to say, but instead, you reach up and squeeze Amelia’s hand with a polite smile.

Breakfast goes as well as you expect it to.

Schlatt, who is left-handed and has been his whole life, sits to your right at the breakfast table, bumping your arm every time you try to eat your food. You know he knows better, he knows he can’t sit on the right side of someone right-handed, and it’s obvious he’s doing it to get under your skin, yet again.

“Why don’t we switch seats?” You offer as kindly as you can, but Schlatt just shakes his head.

“No thanks, toots. I’m good here.”

You resist the urge to snap at him, simply scooting your chair as close to the wall — and as far away from him — as you can.

After breakfast comes the hike, and you stray a few paces behind the happy couple and Schlatt with one headphone in your ear. They’re having a conversation that you’re not really attuned to, as you’re too preoccupied with taking in the fresh air, feeling the ground beneath your shoes, enjoying the beautiful nature that St. Lucia has to offer.

“Holy shit!” You hear James shout, laughing incredulously, “Look at that snake!”

You freeze at his words, all the blood draining from your face. You follow where his finger points, and sure enough, there’s a snake at the edge of the path, just minding its own business. Your stomach drops, panic beginning to set in. You can feel your breath coming out shorter and shorter, and you put a hand on your chest, trying to regulate your racing heartbeat.

As soon as the word snake leaves James’ mouth, you watch Schlatt’s head whip around to look at you. (You hate that he still knows you so well.) God, he’s going to love this. You don’t even have it in you to tell him not to start.

“Just ignore it, it’ll leave us alone,” Amelia shrugs, continuing down the path, with James following shortly after. Schlatt doesn’t move, his eyes still on you.

“You guys coming?” Amelia calls over her shoulder.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You are scared shitless, incapable of forming any coherent thought besides I am in danger. Your vision goes wonky as you steadily grow more and more anxious, so much so that you don’t see Schlatt moving toward you until he’s standing right in front of you.

Schlatt leans down, close to your face, making sure you’re looking him in the eyes. “Get on my back.” He murmurs, and you only stare up at him blankly.

Schlatt puts his hand on your cheek to ground you, to pull you away from the precipice of total panic. “(Y/N),” He says, a little more serious this time, “Come on. Get on my back. I’m gonna carry you past the snake.”

You nod to confirm that you heard him, and he turns around, squatting just slightly so you can reach him easier. You hop up onto his back, and Schlatt’s arms come to rest under your thighs. He stands up straight, before taking off down the path, completely unbothered by the snake.

An uncomfortable silence settles over the two of you as he walks, but once you calm down, you whisper, “Thank you.” in his ear.

“Don’t mention it.” Schlatt says, and you get the feeling he actually means it.

“Why have you never told me you’re afraid of snakes?” Amelia asks when the two of you have a moment alone at the end of the path.

“I guess it just never came up.” You shrug, still feeling a little jittery just talking about it.

“Well, fuck.” Amelia breathes out, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I’m glad Schlatt was here. He’s so good under pressure. Can’t believe he clocked that so quick. I didn’t even notice you were freaking out.”

“Yeah,” You nod, biting your lip. Amelia has no idea that Schlatt of all people is the only person who knows your fear of snakes.

Amelia has no idea about anything, and you hope it stays that way.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ✭ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 →

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #jschlatt x you #the wedding fic #best man!schlatt #mhibisl

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kedreeva · 2 months

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#we spoke of this a LOT at work after that one tech was murdered and hidden in a wall

hi!👋 hello! kedreeva! i’m going to need to ask you to explain this!!!!

So back in 2009, a lab student named Annie Le was murdered at Yale university. Cameras saw her going on into a building, but not out again and it was like, the eve of her wedding (or close to? I don't remember) so clearly she had places to be and people waiting for her so they immediately started looking and the next day (or so? Anyway on the day of her wedding) they found her body in a recess in a wall, down in the areas where the research animals were kept. It turns out, a tech had killed her, but since there were cameras like EVERYWHERE, he just, I guess, left her there. Well, hid the body where it was. I don't remember how they caught him, but they did. It was a horrifying story. It still is.

And it was a huge news story among the folks at my workplace because, at the time, I was working at a different university, as an animal husbandry technician. As you can imagine this was a kind of intense time to be in that situation. They started offering, like, I'm not gonna say counseling but it was "if you need to talk we would prefer you talk to us about something wrong rather than kill anyone about it" and as techs (even if we were not even the same kind of tech, the killer was a lab tech and we were husbandry techs but I think a lot of people assumed it had been a husbandry tech since she was in an animal area), we were kind of getting the side eye from lab people for weeks afterwards. Like they thought we were gonna go "wow that's a fantastic idea, you're next!" or something, idk. And I mean like, people would freeze when you were alone in a hallway, or turn and walk the other way, or duck into the nearest room and watch you walk past, and they were all being super nice/civil to us when they did have to interact. It was very atypical behavior for lab people. Like not all of them, some of them had always been nice and weren't worried, but some of the people who had been unbelievable dicks previously were walking on eggshells. And the people who had friends in other universities reported this was happening at their jobs, too.

And instead of talking to The Man (because all the higher ups were garbage at the time), we just. talked among ourselves. It was a lot of "I may say I feel like strangling lab people sometimes when they do things that drive me up a wall but I don't MEAN it you know that right" and it also led to group discussions of what would be a theoretical *better* solution to hiding a body than what happened, with clear disdain for doing things like hiding bodies in walls, which is a terrible idea and one we would never do (looking at the people who think we might have decided this was a great idea actually).

Which consequently led to a lot of supervisors and/or managers that happened to overhear us bringing us donuts or arranging pizza for lunch in like, some kind of bid to help us feel appreciated, I guess, so that we wouldn't murder anyone, even though none of us were going to do that anyway. But also none of us were in a position to turn down free donuts or pizza or whatever.

And then after a few weeks, maybe a month or so, people just kind of forgot and moved on and things went back to normal like fifty people hadn't spent every lunch hour for weeks talking quietly among themselves about how human bodies would definitely fit into a carcass disposal barrel or that you'd have to crush hip bones and/or skulls before incineration. Hypothetically.

Like I said, it was a VERY weird time to be at my job, and every time I remember it happening feels like a fever dream. I can't even imagine what it was like at Yale.

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the-midnight-blooms · 2 months

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ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴅᴏ

pairing: scholar!jeong yunho x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage, historical au (Joseon dynasty)

word count: 11.4k

warnings: heavy angst, suicidal thoughts, mentions of suicide

masterlist

The rain thundered down from the sky on a sullen morning, the clutter of dishes and whirring of teapots stirring one awake from their slumber. At once the household was buzzing with activity, the slap of sandals against the cool marble floor as a weary middle-aged man retreated to the dining table. On one end, the seat at the top of the table reserved for him, sat his boiling cup of tea and newspaper, his wife soon trailing in after him. Afterwards was his daughter, and they all greeted each other with polite “good mornings” before settling down to eat, a comfortable silence held among them.

Mr Hwang, a renown land owner found that when he left his home, he was able to find a line of servants bowing their heads to him in respect. He was, by any means no aristocrat and did not preach claims of nobility but his knowledge of literature, politics and art had allowed him to extend his name into upper class society. He was proud to claim that his name lingered on the tongues of scholars, dukes and the general along with other important men in the militia. Such men were seen as gifted in society, how could it be that a poor man who had never had the privilege of receiving satisfactory education proved to be more astute than any scholar of Joseon. It was down to sheer luck, and god, he thought that he was able to claim a reputation such as the one he now held.

About three months ago, on a Wednesday evening, Mr Hwang kissed his wife goodbye- leaving his home to travel four miles east to the large estate on a hill that he had been invited to. Every Wednesday, scholars from nearby towns had gathered to invest in the latest literature and scribble their thoughts in the margins of transcripts that had been thrown their way. They were settled within the library- men walking up and down the aisles searching for novels of interest some men sipping on cups of tea. Around three hours in, the ripple of quiet murmuring would transcend into loud chatter. Like clockwork, on that Wednesday evening, Mr Hwang settled down his quill cracking his fingers to relax the tense fibres in his muscles. He sat opposite the esteemed Mr Jeong, a loyal civil servant to the King and a member of the Royal Council.

Despite the ongoing of chatter surrounding them, the two men worked on their studies with minimal conversation. Mr Jeong was the first to break the silence.

“How is your wife and daughter, Hwang?”

“They are in good health, sir. How is your son? How is he finding his duties as a gentry scholar?” Jeong beamed at the mention of his son’s position within the royal court.

“He is too in good health. The prince informs me that he performs his duties excellently.” Hwang nodded, sending a polite smile his way before raising the cup of tea to his lips. A comfortable silence held among them but a thought provoked at the back of Jeong’s mind. “Actually, I am looking for a bride for my son as he is now of marriageable age.”

“That you should have no problem seeking, Sir. He is an impressionable young man, is he not?” Whilst Jeong felt implied to agree with his friend, there was more to his son than meets the eye. Yet for what he wanted to confess, it was better to stay quiet and agree to Hwang.

“I think I had better be open to you, my friend. I was hoping to ask if you would so kind to extend your daughter’s hand in marriage, for my son.” Hwang, taken aback almost choked on his tea for a split second quickly placing his cup down giving his friend a wide-eyed stare. A surge of emotions overcame him. Jeong was not the type of man to joke about serious matters such as marriage.

“My daughter? Wedded to your son? With all due respec-,”

“I understand that this is no conventional way to propose but you know better that I am not a man of custom. I have met your daughter. She is patient, kind and intelligent too. It seems that you have shared the gift of knowledge with her and my son does not want a wife that he cannot converse with. He is not asking for scholar but an understanding woman as such. I believe your daughter would make the perfect wife.” Jeong reasoned. The truth being there were many intelligible women with Joseon but the problem being they were either haughty or impatient. Either too vain about their looks or just purely selfish.

“If you allow me, I must discuss these details with her mother.”

“Of course, take your time. We are in no rush.” Which wasn't by any means true, but he could not exactly tell his friend to hurry up and make an on-the-spot decision.

That same Wednesday evening, Mr Hwang rushed back to his home as fast as he could running through the double doors- panting and out of breath. Without pausing to sit to down and breathe, the words spilled out of his mouth without caution astounding his wife in the process. Breaking from her momentary paralysis, she escorted her husband to the nearest chair-summoning the closest maid for a cup of tea to be brought to the study.

"We have to say yes, you must send Jeong a formal letter of proposal." Hwang nodded eagerly. Mrs Hwang thought about her daughter and what she would think. She would say no, of course.

Mr Hwang was not as ignorant as his friend thought he was. He had his eyes and ears everywhere- he knew his son's true nature. Perhaps if he was a better father, he would have declined the offer as soon as the words left from his mouth. After all wasn't this marriage an opportunity to extend his lineage into nobility? He could be richer, more reputable, more well known. How could he decline this offer?

"Begin the preparations, but do not tell her. Not yet." Reluctantly, his wife nodded.

Miss Hwang, daughter of Mr Hwang- the noble landowner, knew something was being plotted behind her back. She spent the last three months in and out of the dressmaker's, her measurements being taken for hanbok's of every colour, in silk, satin and in every other expensive material she could think off. A plethora of jewellery and fabrics were being sent to the house and as the months went by the atmosphere of the household became much more busier and chaotic. It brought her much annoyance that she wasn't able to find out- she even tried to provoke Min Cha but the youngest maid was not prone to bribery. She stared at her father at the top of the dining table, as his eyes scoured down the page of the newspaper reading the contents of the latest news in Joseon. Clearing his throat, he meticulously folded the paper discarding it to the side before making eye contact with his daughter.

"Minister Jeong and his son, Yunho will be joining us tonight for dinner. Make sure you are here and not hiding in your room" he instructed, giving her a pointed look before lifting his tea cup. A sudden thought rushed to her head. It could only make sense that perhaps they were coming over to propose. The gifts being sent at the house, the fancier clothes she was forced to wear, the hushed whispers of the maids as she walked by and their talks of marriage and children. They never bothered before, they knew how indifferent she was towards the notion of it. It could only mean that they were coming over to propose, or maybe they already had- besides she didn’t need to say yes, herself. Her father could on her behalf and it could be perceived as her approval. That was a thought she did not want to entertain, being a woman devoid of many choices was hard enough. If she could have a chance of falling in love and being loved as deeply and constantly the way that one wanted to be loved- she would grab at it. Though grabbing at it was like reaching out for a feather, its fibrils caress her fingertips only for it to slip through her fingers.

A few hours after the breakfast table had been cleared, the bustling sound inside the house had significantly quietened, doors to the kitchen quarters had been slammed shut so no sound seeped into the rest of the home. Warmth trailed the surface of the study, perched on the windowsill, head leant against the glass pane she gazed at the town below outstretched beneath the three miles of grasslands- a small cobbly path paving the way for carriages and palanquins. A creak infiltrated the room, her head snapping the other way watching a small figure stumble into the room and an older maid following after her. Tea settled down on the table, the maid scurried to the fireplace continuing her cleaning duties whereas Min Cha sat beside her on the window sill. Her hands reached to caress the younger girls face, pulling her towards her-nuzzling her in her arms. With a comforting quietude held among them, in the far distance the swaying of carriage treaded towards their home.

"Do you think that's Mr Jeong and his son?" Miss Hwang hummed carefully, fingers stroking Min Cha's dark hair. They watched the carriage come to a sudden halt outside their home; several moments later an older man walked out. The servants ran towards him, offering their greetings. After him, a taller man appeared out of the carriage, moving eloquently across the lawn. His dark hair was strikingly shorter than most young men of the common day and age, his brown wide eyes scanning his surroundings. Their eyes locked, he tilted his head slightly as if scrutinising her. Jumping away from the windowsill, she pried Min Cha off with her scurrying away to her room- to hide- exactly like her father told her not to.

Yunho noticed her eyes first. He felt like he was staring into his own when he discerned they were that they were burdening with inquisition, the length of her lashes softening a look that could have been perceived as threatening. It was her, wasn't it? She’ll make do he thought- there had to be reason for his father’s persistency. He was perfectly satisfied with being unmarried but then again his father probably wanted a grandson to carry the lineage, the establishment of this matrimony purely founded on both his father’s and Mr Hwang’s pride. For now he needed to refrain from looking ignorant for the next few weeks. Granted, he was stuck with her for life but as long as she knew her place he’d make do with her presence. They had moved to Mr Hwang's study where they had been seated around the fireplace, the cold winter air still clung to their skin, the heat of the spitting embers easing the chill that ran down their spines. His ears became heedless to the conversation the two older men shared, moulding his face to look interested with the occasional vocalisation to please his father's friend.

"I must finally introduce you to my daughter," Hwang cheered, clasping his hands together in enjoyment. Yunho forced a smile onto his face, preparing himself to meet yet another bratty daughter of a rich man. Calling for the maid, Hwang then proposed that he made his way into the garden to share a private interaction with each other.

Miss Hwang let out a small whine, shoulders slumped with an exaggerated frown etched on her features as she ambled down the steps and moved into the front lawn. Letting out a sigh of exasperation, she straightened her posture entering the garden with a sheepish smile. He was much taller than she had anticipated in the glimpse of their eye contact, the closer she moved the more intimidated she felt by his slender, towering figure. Though his features were soft and inviting, his wide eyes particularly held such a kindness in them that she had not seen in the eyes of other men. She wanted to speak in that moment, but neither of them had any idea what to say. Instead, she decided to saunter through the garden; Yunho following her. Yunho cleared his throat, her attention drifted from the garden flowers to him-she turned around to stand in front of him his movements halting as he sent a look of confusion her way.

"Why exactly are you here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what I asked. What is the purpose of your visit? What are your intentions? What do you and your father intend to gain from your being here?" He cocked his head to side, and scoffed at her questions yet the look of seriousness on her face had thrown him off. He was half expecting to start the conversation flaunting about something, talk about her riches, or maybe even throw herself at him. Not question the nature of this visit, was Mr Hwang detaining the knowledge this arrangement from his daughter? If so, why?

"You are to be my betrothed." He stated, though it came out as more of a question as her eyebrows creased in scepticism. "Which I thought you would've known as you accepted the proposal-" she ran back in the direction of the home, abandoning him by burgundy dahlias. All the pieces had fallen into place now, it was dowry that was being sent to the house, all the preparations were for her matrimony. How could she have missed all of this? Storming into the study, the door banged open the abrupt dissonance making her father jump from his seat; Jeong raising an eyebrow in inquisition.

"Father, can I talk to you?" Her voice both breathless and desperate for answers. Before he could speak, she exchanged her position with Jeong- who the nearby maid had guided into the parlour. “Why have you been hiding this proposal from me?” Silence hung among them, as she glared into his eyes.

“Do you think if many months ago I approached you with this proposal you would have said yes? You would’ve spat in my face. This is for your own benefit. Did you even talk to Yunho? What must he think of you?”

“Who cares what he thinks of me? What I care about is how you’ve tried to dictate my life for me.”

“Everything I am doing is for your own benefit” There it was. That same old phrase. The same phrase that she had heard when her father pulled her out libraries and schools, pulled away from the fields and forced her into passivity and domesticity. She had gotten gone used to it finding partial amusement in embroidering, cooking, drawing while occasionally reading the odd novel but there was no satisfaction in a life where she only existed for the sole purpose of serving a man. Her whole life she listened and obeyed, her only desire being to at least choose who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Now she couldn’t even have that- her only last grasp for autonomy was being snatched away from her.

“You will tell Mr Jeong that we cannot move forward with this marriage, or I will tell him myself." She claimed threateningly, her hands balled into fists.

"No, I will not. You will marry Yunho and that is that! Do you understand me? Your wedding is in two weeks so I suggest you start preparing for your departure."

"You planned all of this, and didn't once think to ask for my consultation?" With wide eyes in disbelief at the fact that she only had two weeks left in her childhood home before her name was tied to someone else’s.

"What does your opinion matter? I am your father, I know what's best for you." He moved closer to her, she winced as the tone of his voice rose, at this point it was better to think about what the Jeong family thought of him rather than her.

"No. You know what's best for yourself. You have always prioritised yourself over your own daughter and wife. You have never cared for me. It always what Byungchul Hwang has wanted and never-" his palm connected with her cheek, the slap sending a stinging pain through the supple flesh. His coarse grip latched onto her shoulders shaking them roughly; her body oscillating as he screamed at her many of the words sprinting through her head, the echo of his strident tone ringing in her ears, vision clouding as the line of tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. Something along the lines of 'ungrateful child', 'worthless', 'wretched' and any other invective he forced upon her. Nothing she hadn’t heard before. What was hearing them once more, before she succumbed to his despotism?

She could not recall how long he had endlessly been screaming at her, until her mother had stormed into the room calming her father, before sending her to her own room. The hallways of her childhood home seemed to restrict her now, the windows had been tightly sealed shut due to the wind- they seemed make the whole house feel smaller. Closed doors felt like shackles binding to her feet, restraining her. Her room was no solace, not anymore as she collapsed onto her bed a familiar numbness gnawing at her.

The two weeks had skimmed by faster than she would have hoped, the duration of them spent packing away the contents of her room into boxes. She dismissed the help of the servants wanting to savour the last parts of her childhood alone, structurally moving from one side of the room to the other. In the end there were many things that she had to throw away, keeping only the items closest to her heart. Min Cha informed her that Mrs Hwang told the Jeong family that his fiancée could not attend the dinner due to “feminine problems” to which this made both of their cheeks flush red. They shared a laugh, a genuine smile that bled into sadness soon after as it dawned on her that she wouldn’t share many more laughs with Min Cha for a long time. On her last evening at the home, she kissed the younger one before dismissing her for the rest of the night holding her a little longer, and a little tighter than she usually would have.

The creak of the wooden door, hauled at her attention head snapping up from the suitcase as her mother treaded into the room, steady but with graceful steps. She could never be as regal as her mother, she never understood how her mother maintained such a façade even after so many years of suffering from social abuse. How did one not break?

“Would you like some help dear?” Shaking her head, her hands glided over the clothes methodically stacking them one on top of the other. “I never thought the day would come, and so soon at that.” She sensed a smile on her mother’s lips, her awkwardly joyful tone striking a nerve.

“It wouldn’t have come so soon if you didn’t leave me with much of a choice.” Miss Hwang scoffed, avoiding her mother’s gaze as she continued packing her clothes into her bags. Am I ungrateful for thinking that I want a love that never dies?

“My love-,”

She shook her head furiously, pausing the words that came out of her mother's mouth. Of course she knew that her whole life she wouldn’t be allowed to have a say in her father’s decisions. She knew that eventually she’d be pawned off to the richest man that asked for hand but for a long time those were thoughts that were yet to become real. Tomorrow she’d be married off to Jeong Yunho, the minister’s son and be nothing but his trophy wife. The bearer of his children and an extension of his property. A pretty macabre way to perceive the situation that she was put in but she didn’t see any other way going about it.

“Today I am your daughter, tomorrow I will be just an object-not even worthy of being called a woman. What is a woman anyway, mother? A commodity, right? A baggage to be passed from one man to another?” She pondered as her mother gasped, tears rushing to the front of her eyes. How could her daughter have the courage to say that to her? “Don't look at me like that mother, you never once fought for me.” She bent down to knees, arms extending to grab the number of boxes that she kept beneath her bed. Her own tears pooled at her eyes. Attempting to keep them at bay, she remained on the floor sifting through boxes of jewellery, letters, books composing them into piles of what she did and did not need. She would give them all to Min Cha, with the exception of her a few sets of her mother’s pearls and diamonds. After several minutes, Mrs Hwang left from the room, she released a painful sigh. When the sun sunk beneath the horizon paving the way for the moon to rise upon the night, she had finally finished packing all of her belongings leaving them by her bedroom door for the butler to pick up and take downstairs in the morning. Glaring at the green hanbok draped on the dressing table stool, placed there by one of the maids- unbeknownst to her- she rested her head down on the silk pillow. Pulling the comforter over her eyes she shut her eyes, wishing and praying this was all a long and horrible dream.

A horrible dream it was not, she was rudely awakened from her peaceful slumber. Washed and dressed into a traditional green hanbok, hair brushed back and combed held into place by a bejewelled headpiece. The maids had painted red dots on her cheeks symbolising her youth but to also "ward off evil spirits" as the elders claimed. They left in her own room for a while, as they patiently awaited for the groom's family to arrive. The oldest maid appeared at her side, stroking her hair gently with an abating smile that even her mother failed to provide for her.

“I don’t know how to be a daughter and he’s expecting to be someone’s wife.” Her whisper transcended through Ji Hye's soul, a cry so quiet as if she was hanging onto the edge of an abandoned precipice with nothing but the rush of a hollow sea waiting to invite her death.

“Marriage is all about compromise, dear. Love him the way you want to be loved, men don’t know anything about affection- they need to be led the way. Hold his hands and promise you’ll be a devoted wife. He’ll hold yours and protect you with his life,”

Before she knew it the entire wedding ceremony had come to a close, she couldn't remember anything much other than staring into Yunho's eyes, his face hidden behind a fan as he entered their garden. It was tradition for grooms to give their brides a wild goose during the wedding ceremony, the flapping of its wings as it entered her father's arms provided her with temporary amusement. She remembered the exchange of their vows, formalising their union over a cup of wine. The few guests had eaten their food, blessing the newlyweds with nothing but happiness and prosperity in their marriage.

Entering the palanquin, she jerked at the white curtains before the bearers could, avoiding her mother's eyes through the translucent fabric. Maybe she was just being dramatic and unnecessary, but still it hurt to be used as a tool to extend the Hwang name into nobility. Not to mention Yunho had barely spared her a single glance other than when he was forced to play the role of a loving husband in front of their relatives. Leaning her head against the palanquin, exhaustion dominated her; she gave into her body’s demands to sleep.

“Ahem” a low grumble had stirred her awake from her slumber, an obnoxious yawn almost startling the servant who had been instructed to awake her. Rubbing her eyes, she stepped out of the palanquin the air burning her warm skin.

Two large black wooden gates opened to reveal the Hanok poised at the centre. It was not the largest house she'd seen a noble have but it was certainly a beauty with its glistening purple glazed tiles that decorated the curved roof and the dark brown walls of timber that structured around the home. A small set of stairs led to the porch revealing the salmun, a door made of wood panels and thick paper, allowing them entrance into the home, the path there littered with greenery that she made note to water every morning. Lifting the fabric of her hanbok she treaded up the stairs lingering by the porch as both her father-in-law and Yunho welcomed the servants to place the luggage in the front yard.

“I’ll have the maids take the rest in.” Yunho reassured his father, stood by the doorway with a questioning look of their presence, or rather absence. With a warm smile, Jeong laid a comforting hand on his daughter-in-laws shoulder.

“I’ve left this home in your hands, my dear. Yet should you need anything- I’m only one letter away.” His words held more tenderness than what was in her father’s being alone. He soon dispersed from the estate. With ease, Yunho grabbed hold of the luggage, sliding the door open to disappear into a corner of the home within seconds. All without a single word. Hastily, she followed after him; the interior of the home was almost empty, the translucency of each door feigned an impression of massiveness. She learned quickly that there were in fact no maids in the home, so then why did he lie to his father? Did Mr Jeong not know that Yunho kept no servants in his home? Not even as much as one maid?

There was little to no furniture, as she peeked her around the living space, the dining room, then she found herself wandering near a bedroom adjacent to a study and washroom.

“These are my quarters. Follow me, I’ll show you to yours.” His glacial tone had startled her, she felt her veins pulsating as blood sped through her body like scarlet rivers. Trailing after him, she noticed that the further they moved in, the colder it was wrapping her arms around her shoulders to keep her warm. The hallways seemed to be narrower in this part of the home too. Her quarters were similar to that of his with the rooms the same size and similarly furnished except in the far corner of the room there was a dressing table with a small stool. Adjacent was a washing room, however to compensate for the missing study there was a door that led to a porch extending straight to the garden. With her luggage held at the foot of the bed, her peripheral vision caught Yunho loitering by the door fiddling with his fingers as if he was unsure of what to do with himself.

“I thought we were supposed to be staying in the same room.”

“I like my own space.” She nodded in agreement. Unsure of what to do, she reached for his hands to place in her own as Ji Hye had advised her to do. Hold his hands and promise you’ll be a devoted wife. Yunho looked down at her in confusion.

“I promise I won’t let you down, I'll be a devot-."

"Dear god, stop this absurdity." Roughly, he shoved her hands away from him, "Stop this foolish act." The coarseness of his words stunned her, an uncomfortable warmth spreading across her cheeks as she looked down at her feet in embarrassment wanting nothing more than the ground to engulf her and take her six feet under. "Here's my promise. Do not expect me to be a doting husband and kiss you goodnight. This marriage is at the expense of both our parents. You’re nothing but a baggage to me, weighing me down.” He snarled, bitterness hanging heavy on his tongue. "Oh and stay out of sight- I can’t stand looking at you.” He grimaced at her appearance before stalking off in the other direction, leaving her alone in the desolate hallway. What great sin must she have committed for her to be have been cursed with a man like him? Barely even a day into their marriage and he was abandoning her as one did to a wounded animal in a slum. A sharp pang penetrated her heart as she slumped down on the bed. Tucking in her knees she bit her lips refusing to let out a sob. The worst was yet to come so it was futile crying now, she’d save her tears for when he had finally deconstructed her will to live as of now if she obeyed his rules she could survive.

As expected of her, she stayed out of sight and adhered to every command. Every morning she woke up at dawn rushing to the kitchen sweating over steaming soup, chopping vegetables as fast as she could before he woke up. The simultaneous roaring of the boiling pots of rice and whistling of the kettle often made her panic, the halls becoming used to her running down it as she frantically organised the table. The last few times she was late to set the table, she was subjugated to his yelling. He did not even end up eating the food in the end, surging out of the house in anger, speeding after him she tried to reason with him but Yunho left the front gate too soon and there was no point in causing a further commotion.

Not long ago her mother had sent a parcel to the house: a gorgeous traditional dress made from chiffon and silk, with an abundance of letters. A short note from her father, a page from her mother, and about three lengthy sheets from Min Cha updating her on all of the missed gossip of the town. Yet the final line of the letter had made her stop in her path as she strolled across the garden. 'How is your husband? Does he make you happy?'

'He is in great health. Yes, he makes me happy. As happy as the sun makes the earth when it arises from the suffocating dark.'

She wore the dress to one of the dinners that Yunho had been invited to by his good friend, and fellow scholar, Kim Hongjoong and his wife. For the first time in a long time when she looked in the mirror, she was complacent with her appearance the dress accentuating her figure in all the right places- she even wore a ribbon as she tied up her braid. Patiently, Yunho stood by the entrance of their home. Mrs Jeong walked up to him; on observing her presence he did not care to give her second look guiding her out of their home and down the village to Hongjoong's estate. Her esteem had dropped a little, she would’ve taken so much as a glance her way though he wasn’t obligated to give her even that much. Additionally, it hurt that many of the wives, at the party, had their husbands fixed to their sides while Yunho seemed to never be present. Even when the husbands had formed a congregation, some of them would glance affectionately at their spouses meanwhile Yunho never cared for a second to see if she was still in the room. For a while she just hid in the garden, away from the social gathering like she used to at the Hwang estate- enjoying her own comfort amongst nature. Except this time it was not comforting at all, not when the wives told her how lucky she was to have a handsome and intellectual husband like Yunho. Simply she smiled although a pit formed in her heart that only really seemed to dig deeper each time she was reminded of the reality of her miserable marriage. If only they knew, if only someone cared enough to ask her if she was happy instead of telling her how lucky she was. If only they noticed her distance and the sadness veiled beneath the façade of contentment.

Hongjoong, who had initially been making his way to the kitchen to check on how much longer they had to wait until the food was served, noticed a feminine figure standing alone by the white chrysanthemums her fingers brushing over the surface of the petal.

“Jagiya have you seen Mrs Jeong, I can’t-,” Mrs Kim followed his line of sight to find her target. The couple shared a look before Hongjoong made his way to the garden, Mrs Kim fixing her spot by the window.

“Mrs Jeong, are you ok?” The voice of concern cracked her immersion away from the chrysanthemums to Hongjoong who held a friendly demeanour.

“Yes, I’m just not very social at big gatherings.” She admitted, dipping her head in embarrassment.

“Ah, you’re quite the wallflower. Opposite to Yunho, he’s very talkative. I wonder how you put up with him when you feign such quietness.” Forcefully, she smiled. He never spoke to her; when he did it usually out of necessity. “You should come in now, the night will be settling in soon and dinner is about to be served.” Hongjoong had left her to her own devices but as soon as he turned, the hospitable appearance had dropped and he felt a wave of fury. He could see it in her eyes, the sadness she was suffering from, he noticed the longing looks she sent him and Yunho barely acknowledging her presence. How could he be so nonchalant? Mrs Jeong returned back to the house just in time for dinner to be served, the men and women had naturally been segregated from each other enjoying the delicious dishes cooked by the servants with the help of Mrs Kim. The lady of the house occasionally peered over her bowl to see Yunho’s wife who was crammed into the corner of the room avoiding conversation. When she was dragged into one, she engaged enough to not be seen as ignorant before excusing herself to use the restroom. She hid in the bathroom until she was sure that dinner was over, it had turned out that she came back after desert but nobody paid much attention to her absence. Silently, she thanked god for their disinterest.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the table the males had been interrogating Yunho on his life as a newlywed husband. For all they knew he was smitten with his wife and treated her as if she was the Queen Consort herself, taking his distance from her at this gathering as an act of shyness.

“Thank god you settled down, I was getting worried that you were going to be taking up courtesans for the rest of your life.” Mingi, his closest companion, imputed.

“Well that option wasn’t too bad either.” He aimlessly joked, receiving a mixture of responses. Some awkwardly chuckled while others gave him a pointed look latching onto his pending lassitude to marriage. The rest of the evening flew by in a breeze, at the end all of the couples drew back to their respective pairs- thanking the Kim family for their hospitality before dispersing out of the estate with linked arms and intertwined hands.

“You have got to be more attentive towards your wife Yunho. It’s what makes the moments between you much more candid.” Hongjoong advised as Yunho came to bid him goodbye. For the first time during the evening he searched for his wife, finding her conversing with Hongjoong’s spouse by the doorway.

“What do you mean, hyung?” Yunho questioned, that great big grin of his faltering slightly.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that you should be able sense her emotions towards you at this point. Do you ever stop to think that for a married woman she looks incredibly lonely?” His tongue poked the inside of his mouth, he cocked his head as he focused his attention towards her.

“I think you’ve got it all wrong. She’s just never been much of a social butterfly.” Hongjoong begged to differ but he did not want to pry, he had his attempt at trying to get Yunho to see how stoic he was being- whether or not he wanted to understand his sobriety was his own problem. The pair approached their wives, Yunho snaking an his arm around her waist, drawing her closer to him-he sensed how stiff she had gotten from his touch.

“…and be sure to visit me whenever you’d like! I would enjoy the company, Mrs Jeong.” Mrs Kim offered. The newlyweds smiled, bid their final goodbyes and whisked themselves away from the home. Yunho kept his arm around her waist, gripping his wife to his side all really because he saw the evident scepticism whenever he spoke about his marriage, the wool could not be pulled over Hongjoong’s eyes.

“Complaining about me to Hongjoong?” Her back pressed against the wooden panel as he inched towards her intimidatingly.

“What? No, there’s nothing to complain about-” He grabbed the bottom of her chin, her neck snapped back as she looked at him her jaw paining from the intensity of his coarse grip.

“I’m starting to get sick of you,” He yanked her head backwards and forwards, a breath catching in her throat. In that moment he looked like her father, inflicting tethers of abuse to assert his dominance. With a thumping heart that beat too quickly for its own good, her vision became cloudy, breaths exhilarating as he continued to yell at her. This time, the words whirled over her head- her mind clogged with everything and nothing at the same time as the walls of the room began to shimmer, caving in on her. Ripping away from his grip, she pushed past him stumbling to her quarters as tears rushed to the front of her eyes, her mind filling with all of the trauma she had endured from her childhood, as he called after her. She broke into a sprint, tearing through the open space. Her back slumped against the door; she gripped her lips to prevent any sound from coming out as hot tears streamed down her paling skin. Irrational thoughts began to infiltrate her mind.

I can’t do this anymore.

He called out her name through the door, skin leaping of her muscles at the unusual gentleness.

“Let me come in, what’s going on?” No, he’d only mock her. She couldn’t let her guard down. Darting her eyes to the drawer on her bedside table, the hurricane of voices in her mind seemed to quieten.

No one would miss me, right?

The tears stopped, the pace of her heart regulating back again, quickened breaths slowing as she edged closer to the drawer. Chewing on her lip, she felt a roar of emotions tackle her as she gripped the cold metal handle this time not bothering to glue her mouth shut as obnoxious tears escaped her.

Min Cha would miss her. Her mother would miss her. Maybe not her husband or her father. Her husband could move on, wives were replaceable after all. Though killing herself would be a way at getting back at her father, she had no siblings- there would be no one to elevate the Hwang name. Suicide was socially unacceptable, so she’d be digging a grave for both herself and her family. The thought had crossed her mind too many times than she’d liked to admit but she lacked the strength to commit the sin. Instead she'd clasp her hands together and pray to god for a way out of this torment. Fatigue overpowered her at last, crawling to the bed she lifted the covers slipping underneath as her arms wrapped around herself to feel the warmth she was entitled to. When she slept, she dreamt of a fantasy- a life where he loved her and she loved him. As deeply and constantly as one wanted to be loved.

He stood on the other side of the door, tempted to slide it open to see if she was ok. Her eyes had held a certain type of horror that had haunted him. Yunho was too proud to admit that he had been treating her terribly, in an attempt to rebel against his father for the way he'd been forced into this marriage with no way out. Despite this remark, he was still too shallow to see that she was in the same position as himself suffering worse at the hands of his tyranny.

"My dearest Min Cha,

I lied to you. I lied to you when I said he makes me happy. How can I be happy when I have to beg for him look at me? If God permitted I ever crossed his mind it would be a blessing for he torments me with his harsh words and aloof stare-"

He called out her name.

For the first time in a very long time, since that night he stood outside the door for hours as she sobbed herself weary. The sound of him calling her name echoing the beat of her heart, every octave was every rhythm silencing the sorrowness in her soul. Even when he subjected her to his ferocity, she grappled onto the moments when he called for her because even being used felt like loving.

"I was going to go on a walk, if you'd like to join me?" His eyes darted to sheet in front of her, "if you're busy-"

"I'd love to," Maybe she said that too quickly, but he gave her a sheepish smile. Slipping the sheet inside the drawer and closing the pot of ink, she rose from her seat following Yunho out of the home.

The neighbourhood was quiet, as the sun began to sink beneath the sky. Some of the neighbourhood’s children scuttled back into their homes- all of them reminding her of her own dear Min Cha. They’d ventured out of the town centre, towards the outskirts where a large park was situated. She’d never gone there herself, but saw it on her way to Mrs Kim’s house. The park itself was desolate, the grass waving eloquently as few birds soared through the sky. She wondered what it was like to be free. Was she not free? Perhaps free from her father’s wrath, but instead subjugated to even worse at the hands of her husband. In that moment she envied Mrs Kim- and envy was a foreign feeling to her- for having someone as caring as Hongjoong as her husband. Whilst she was so whisked away in her sorrows, she didn’t notice Yunho draw his fingers closer to her- before encapsulating her whole hand within his. The sudden warmth perpetuated through her, her heart fluttering at this sudden affection. Was he starting to appreciate her now?

"Hongjoong-nah!" he called out, summoning the attention of the couple sat beneath a tree, a large number of metres away from them. Oh, that's why he held my hand. Everything was an act to him, she bit her lip to stop it from quivering. No affection was ever really genuine and no amount of praying to God would ever make it real. Hongjoong and his wife waved back, Yunho stepped forward to make his way across the fields towards them but she tugged at his arm pulling him back. He looked down at her confused, attempting to tug her along with him but her feet anchored to the ground.

"I think you should leave them be, they're having their own moment." she offered, her faint voice infiltrating his ears. Processing the thought, he pursed his lips and then nodded. They both waved at the couple, turning away to move- she half expected him to let go off her hand at that but their hands remained clasped together, Yunho tightening his grip as they walked away from the fields back to their home.

Undiscovered to them, when Hongjoong waved back he almost made a gesture to invite them over to him when his wife tugged at his arm.

"Let them be, Joong. They're having their moment." He agreed, retracting his hand, watching as his best friend walk away from him.

As suspected, Yunho’s sentiment stemmed from his guilt. After that day where they walked through the park together, he never invited another moment of closeness. Ignoring the agonising pang that struck through her, she moved on with her chores, simply deciding that she would have to live it the same way that her mother did.

Her father-in-law stopped to visit a few times. Yunho had hired maids, for the week that he stayed over. For the first time it felt odd to not be doing something, she was not at comfort with it. However, she had to manufacture a façade for Mr Jeong; so she did. Much to Yunho’s dismay, her mother had sent a letter saying that she too was passing through the town and wanted to visit her daughter.

She knocked on the door to his study, his head perked up at the sight of her. Inaudibly she handed the letter to him, to which he quickly scanned over the page releasing an annoyed sigh.

“You couldn’t have told me earlier? I wouldn’t have to dismiss the maids.”

“I only got the letter today.” Rolling his eyes, he leaned back in his chair, exercising his strained fingers. “Go.” He ordered.

“Would you like me to get you-,”

“Go.”

Her mother, meekly, ambled through the gate a small bag of luggage in hand. Yunho had not been at home when she arrived, but when he came back she had to scuttle to the doorway and make him aware so that her mother wouldn’t have to hear any of his harsh words. With a short nod, he retreated to his room to change out his scholars robes, before greeting his mother-in-law in the dining room.

“You’re so lucky, dear, to have a husband like Yunho. Tall, handsome, clever. What more could you ask for?” For him to care for me, to treat me as his equal. To not just treat me as a toy, picking and dropping me whenever he wishes. Mrs Hwang’s hands outstretched for her daughter’s, jerking immediately once she had surveyed them. They were not soft like they had used to be, but coarse-as if struck by labour. “These aren’t a wives hands. Those are tender and full of care. These are overworked.”

“He’s overworked my love for him.” She joked. Mrs Hwang gave a detailed stare before cracking a forced smile, fear rushing through her. Perhaps she was just overthinking, maybe her daughter had taken up studying again and was spending her free time writing away with her husband.

“I almost forgot. I came to hand the keys to your grandmothers estate in Hahoe. Take it as a wedding gift. You ought to visit, to see if it’s still intact or has been run over by the villagers.” Accepting the keys from her mother, she opened up her bedside drawer, waiting for the rush of sombre emotions to subside before throwing them in.

Sometimes I envy you, at least you were seen even if it was to be hurt.

A low hiss escaped from her lips as she carried the heavy tray to the dining room, a sharp stab penetrating through her lower abdomen almost disabling her ability to move through the vast hallways. After many months, the frigidity of her quarters had finally gotten to her, waking up with a stuffy nose and an abrasive tickle in her throat. Much to her dismay, Yunho was sat in his seat as she rested his food in front of him. She bit her lip as she kneeled to set out his dishes, restraining a grunt. Her hands moved quickly, partly so she could withdraw to her room, roll up into a ball and wallow in her own pain. Yunho noticed her paling skin and the beads of sweat forming above her lip as with a shaky breath she poured his tea, his prolonging beam burning into her skull. Hastily, she rose up grimacing before turning to leave. He shot out his hand, grabbing her wrist, fear bleeding onto her face.

“You should stay and eat with me.” He suggested. The words somehow warmed her heart, yet the two forces of pain and comfort repelled against each other. Tugging at her wrist, it prompted her to sit aside him Yunho moving the plate between them. "Eat up, you look really weak. Are you eating properly?" With furrowed brows and pursed lips he lifted his spoon to feed her, her hand lifted to grab the handle of the spoon but he jerked it back. "Open your mouth." he spoke light heartedly. She accepted his spoonful of food as if he hadn't subjected her to months of distance and cold words. As if a few months ago their marriage was menial and meant as much as servant meant to a king or wheat meant to a lion. What had caused this sudden change? They spent rest of the duration of breakfast taking in turns eating; she spent the whole time clutching at her stomach- and avoiding eye contact at that. He wanted something from her, her nerves jolting at the thought of being used. At the end, she picked up all the dishes to clear them from the table, scurrying out of the room so he would be unable to notice the blush forming on her cheeks when he attempted to assist her and their skin touched sending a tingle through her fingers. Though he did notice, a blush crept upon his face- even he couldn't understand the change in heart despite knowing that his indifference towards her was unjustified; he could not blame the cruelty he beguiled her to on his father and a marriage he did not want.

A sigh of relief escaped her once he left the house; she limped to her room, the pains in her stomach unfaltering. Closing her eyes, she slipped into a deep slumber. When she had awakened to a soft nudge, no light streamed in through the windows. Her eyes widened in realisation, grunting to sit up.

“Are you ok?” She jumped slightly, shifting her line of sight to find her husband kneeled beside her. Oh god. An intense consternation seethed through her blood, her heart wavering with anticipation as if waiting on his judgement. What would he do? Shout at her? Maybe grab her forcefully as he had once done? Deprive her of food? He hadn’t done the latter as of yet, but what was stopping him? His despotism held no bounds. Yet, to her surprise, he did none of it. Instead, he placed the palm of his hand to her forehead, feeling the burn of her skin against his. “Goodness, stay here. Don’t move.” Her vision wavered, as a result of her drowsiness. Tucking up her knees to her chest, she waited for him on her bed. After a while, he reappeared in her room with a tray holding an assortment of things. A bowl of hot soup, some tea, a spoon. His affection astounded her. Yunho did not even let her pick up the bowl, raising the spoon to her lips to feed her the soup.

“Have you eaten?” She asked. He shook his head.

“You must hungry, I can prepare you food.”

“Don’t bother, you’re staying here. Besides I’m not hungry. How long have you been in pain for?” Was this the same Yunho she was married to? Actually, was this all a dream?

“Not long, it started today.” His lips fell into a polite frown. She had always agreed when others told her that Yunho possessed a handsome face, yet today those features became particularly distinguished to her.

“I can call the Physician I’ll go-,”

“There’s no need. I’m-,” He arched an eyebrow in inquisition. “I’m on that time of the month.” His ears tinged red in embarrassment, an endearing smile fell on her. Then it had dawned on her. When was the last time she smiled? Truly, and not forced?

“Would you like a heating pad then?” Nodding her head, she beamed again, to which he immediately dispersed out of the room to obey her request. Yunho had realised how much he enjoyed being affectionate, hating himself for the torture he inflicted upon her. Every touch was still staggered, every kind word had come off less fluently than he would have liked.

“You have a thing for staring into space.” Yunho’s eyes met hers. “You’ll look at anything but me.” He sat in her room again, he liked it there. There was a comfort in her quarters that could not be found elsewhere in the home. Though she found comfort in the garden. He had never paid much attention to it before, his scholarly duties often prevented him from venturing into the garden- sometimes he stayed over the nights at the office, scribbling away in journals fulfilling an endless piles of tasks submitted to him by his superiors. He found himself looking at her whilst she was staring intently out of the window.

“Is that a problem?” She provoked, playfully.

“Yes. I require your attention.” She focused on his wide brown eyes for a second before raising her eyebrows in a questioning manner, one that read ‘Well what do you want from me?’ She knew better now than to interpret this sudden interest in her, as affection. “Is it too bad for me to want to you focus on me instead?” Hesitantly, he enveloped her smaller hands into his the warmth of his palms easing the tension of their embrace. Then with all the courage he had, he shifted his body to rest his head on her laps, her hands flinging upwards at the shock of the sudden display of affection. He closed his eyes as she feebly combed her fingers through his soft black hair. Were these the small moments of affection that made a happy marriage? Moments where they were basked in each others embrace, nothing but the comfort of silence draping over them.

“How was your day?” She whispered, a small smile formed on his lips.

“Pretty dull if you ask me, meetings after meetings but no progression. How was yours?”

“Also dull. But the kitchen and garden keeps me occupied.” His eyes snapped open and she halted her movements for a second.

“I could hire the servants back to help you, if it’s too much.” She shook her head as if to disagree. In all honesty, she liked the domesticity. It brought her a sense of security- if she could not entirely stable a place in his heart, she could at least have a place in his home. He made himself comfortable in her laps, flipping his head as if to indicate he was about to sleep.

“Right you can get off me now, your big head is weighing down my legs.” He snickered, that beautiful smile crawling across his defined features, plaguing her own heart. She snickered with him, sharing a small laughter between them. He did leave her that night, but not without placing a chaste kiss on her forehead leaving with her smile that fell with her when she slept.

“She just wanted a few pieces of literature. I write a few things in the margins.” On her way home from Mrs Kim's she sought Yunho stood outside of their home with another woman. A beautiful woman at that, wrought with elegance and grace. Her movements so poise, she even matched Yunho's insatiable beauty. He caught her discontentment through his peripheral vision. Picking up a book from the night stand in his quarters, where they both sat on his bed, he flipped through a few pages showing her his detailed annotation. “Most people just like to read my notes rather than the actual novel.”

“It’s very profound.” She noted, reeling through the words. He had a poetic way of writing, reflective of his image and movements. Yunho was looking at her again, whilst she was flipping through the pages in his book. He caught the long curve of her lashes, blinking as soft as a child’s blow across a face. Like the way he used to blow on his mother’s eyes to steer her awake from her sleep when he was hungry.

“You’re beautiful.” He blurted. And she was. She always was. He was just too cruel to deny himself the pleasures of being in love to admit that to himself. “I’m sorry.” A second confession, yet this one hung tensely in the air. Without looking at him, her palm settled on his cheek. She did not have the strength to say it was ok, because none of it was.

“Can you look at me?” Their eyes connected in an instant. His lips drawing nearer to her own. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, before meeting her lips, drawing her into a passionate kiss fuelled from his melancholia. I’m sorry. And they met again, in the darkness of his room, heads falling onto the pillow, kissing away their sorrows until the stars ignited in the night sky.

He had not come home for a while, his absence tormented her. She knew of his increasing number of hours at the Royal Office, regardless she launched into a fit of worry as she strode down the street to his workplace. If he wasn't going to come home himself, she would have to drag him from there. Upon reaching his workplace, piles of scholars rushed out yet Yunho was still nowhere to be seen.

“Are you ok, Miss?” A scholar had asked.

“I’m looking for Jeong Yunho.”

“In the library. Just down the hall from the entrance.” Nodding she quickly thanked him before he could question her further. Her eyes ran down the aisles, letting out an exhale when she noticed his appearance, at the bottom end. Though before she could take a step forward, the same noblewoman appeared from before. A pleasant smile graced his lips as she handed back one of his books. It had all appeared slow from then on, the way that she grabbed his collar down towards her.

She watched him kiss her.

Did the Earth stop orbiting the sun? For everything in that moment felt incredibly still, like the wind had an hitch in its throat, the delicate leaves outside had stopped swaying; the birds had stopped flapping their wings. When a dissonant gasp had escaped from her lips, the world had resumed all the same, soul thriving with vigilance. He had kissed her the same way she had once been kissed: with such raw emotional intensity, his hands settled on her waist bringing her closer to him. She couldn't watch, tears blurring her vision her sweaty palms balled into fists at her side. Tearing away from them she sprinted back towards her home- her body wracking with tears. Was it even her home anymore? It wasn't enough that she walked through the desolate alleyways, her sobs were loud enough to wake an animal from hibernation but she couldn't care less. Not when his love felt like a feather floating towards the ground, away from her and she was unable to clasp it, feeling its fibres caress her skin. It's touch was no longer satisfactory, it was addictive and she wanted more. Yet it was not hers to have, and not his to give.

All of it was a lie. She wasn't just a noble woman interested in some reading. She wasn't just an acquaintance. After all, Mrs Jeong wasn't just his wife- maybe on paper but had there ever really been moment in their relationship where his love hadn't reached after a period of hurt? There was no continuity to his affection and there never would be. The sadness within her transgressed to anger, she slipped into her quarters through the back garden- her tears ceasing as her body gushed with a familiar numbness.

How long- No.

There would be no more 'How long?' because with each passing second as she prayed for him to return to her and her alone, Yunho took advantage of her desperation to keep her looped to him. Impulsively, she yanked at her drawers grabbing at every article of clothing she possessed and shoving them into the same bags she had entered this cursed home with a never ending stream of tears soundlessly pouring down her face as she did. Her heart tugged at her when she slid the bags under her bed so he would not see if he entered her room. Residing to the table, she began to scribble at the sheet of paper, the wounding scratching of the quill against paper creating small dents.

He never returned home that night. And she didn't long to see his face, the memory of it disgusting her. She felt so tainted, marked, by his touch- is that all he wanted her for? Her body? And her, a fool she was to give it to him like it meant nothing to her. When the dawn seeped into the sky she placed a letter on the mahogany table of his study, taking the envelope containing the key that her mother had given her and fled from the estate-taking the doors at the back of the home. Her chest burned as she stormed up the hill, and when she reached to the top of it the chilling air suffocated her lungs- her eyes flung back to the home, her yearning for it ever so strong. A final look; she tore her eyes knowing that if she went back she'd only get hurt even more and there would be no one to blame but herself.

"Jagiya, I'm home!" He called into the foyer. There was no pattering of footsteps stumbling his way to greet him home. Neither was she in the kitchen, in her quarters-or his own. In replacement of her absence, in the study a crisp, folded up note sat on his desk. His heart thumped in his chest as he picked it up.

My love,

I find I cannot bring myself to say the things I want, to your face. So as the coward I am, I say them through this letter hoping it reaches your heart instead of your eyes. I’m sorry that I married you. I’m sorry that she’s not yours. I’m sorry that even though I tried, and tried and tried that I wasn’t enough for you. So I’m setting you free from the shackles of this marriage. Whilst a divorce is not an option, I wish for you to take my departure as a blessing to move on with the woman you love.

I cannot stand in the same room as you, knowing she stood there too. I cannot bear your touch knowing she felt you too, in a more sincere way than I have ever felt. I cannot and will not hear you say you love me, not when you don’t mean it. Perhaps you feel you must say it out of obligation. Now you have no obligation to me, so say it to her in all the ways I wanted to hear them.

Lastly, thank you. Whilst I could not be entitled to your heart, you gave me the comfort of your home, your money and somewhat your time. For that I’ll always be grateful. I wish you the best of luck for the future.

Sincerely,

Miss Hwang

The letter in his hands trembled, tears billowing at the front of his brown eyes. How did he lose her? Did she somehow see the kiss? The way that the noblewoman had forced herself onto him, fixing her lips to him so tightly, he was paralysed on the spot. He could have sworn he felt her presence looming in the room, he couldn’t do this to her. He had hurt her enough. Roughly pushing away the noblewoman he ran to the bathroom, scrubbing at his lips as if it would remove the cursed action in itself; take the unremovable stain off. A weak sob escaped from his lips, sinking to his knees to cry out to the moon. It was all a mistake. He needed to find her, he needed to make his way to back to her.

A little body dashed across the front lawn, parading around the bushes as his mother stood in the kitchen, stacking away the dishes back into the cupboards. Thunder cracked the sky once more as a tall figure dashed up the hill to find comfort from the rain in the house settled upon the hill. He found that a child ran around the outside, who having sought him transcend tiredly, slowly inched towards him. Having been sent to Hahoe to retrieve scrolls and various pieces of literature, he had been let out of the carriage too early left to venture his way into the town. Normally, Yunho’s navigation skills were precise though with his mind wrought with numbness- it severed at his ability to think rationally. Yunho did not find her. He had searched the whole of Joseon too. From Hongjoong’s home all the way to her parents. Every possible place he thought she could be, he checked. Her mother cried out her soul, his father taunted him. A fool he was to let a diamond slip from his hands.

Si Won watched a man walk up the hill to his home, cocking his head in inquisition. His mother, Mrs Jeong, stalked to the doorway to call her child back into the home. A few weeks after she had reached her grandmother’s home in Hahoe, she was attacked by a wave of sickness every morning, tiredness gnawing at her muscles and had suddenly manifested a large appetite. She met with the towns physician, quickly learning that she was pregnant. She came back home to cry herself to sleep, so much so that she had almost lost her child in the midst of her grief. He became her anchor, giving her a reason to wake up every morning and to survive.

“Si Won, get back inside.” The toddler nodded before dashing down the hills to satisfy his interest in the peculiar stranger. Yunho’s movements halted as he met with the boy, who had shyly stopped less than a metre away. With a kind wave, the boy smiled- one that eerily mirrored his own.

She stopped as the stranger lifted up her child, walking in the direction of her home. There was something about the way that he moved that magnetised her, though the rain beating down on them, had her rushing back into the doorway-poking out her head. Yunho’s heart stopped for a split second in his chest.

It was her.

The child released himself from his grip, squirming to be put down. Gently, Yunho set down the boy who rushed into his home and passed his mother, frozen to the ground. He called out her name, a pained sob releasing from her as she turned to grab her child.

She had left the door open, Yunho ran in. Facing away from him, her child’s head buried in the crook of her neck by the light force of her hand. All so he couldn’t see her in this moment of vulnerability. No child should ever see their mother cry. It hurt more for them watch, than the mother to endure.

“I searched the whole of Joseon for you, but I couldn’t find you.” His wavering voice, reached out to her from the other end of the hallway.

“Close the door. Take off your shoes and go into the living room.” She ordered, passing up the steps to settle her child down to sleep. Persisting through his whines to not go to bed, he shrunk into a ball under her hard stare; huffing as if that would change her mind.

“Is he mine?” The soft covers blanketed his tiny frame, her hands caressing his cheeks. She got up to face him, nodding.

“I think you should leave, Yunho. When the storm subsides.”

“You have to listen to me. It’s not what you think. I know you saw us-,” His pleads were interrupted by the shutting of the door, descending the steps she entered the front room. “It was a mistake. She grabbed me, and forced herself onto me. I would never do that to you.”

“Would you not?” She argued. “You had no problem in hurting me when we first got married. In fact, in the entirety of our marriage you have hurt me more than you have loved me.” He went quiet, panting in the air as he held back sobs. He wanted to reach out and hold her again.

“I was sincere in my apology, I realised how wrong it was of me to subject you to punishment over something that was not your fault. I hadn’t realised that you never wanted this marriage in the first place- the same way that I didn’t. I hadn’t realised how cruel your father really was, until I told him that you had left home and there was not even so much as a scent of emotion on his face.” Breathlessly, his hands shook by his sides. Taking in his face, it no longer held the youthfulness that it once did. It was spun with tiredness and sorrow, his face sunken as if he hadn’t eaten in years. She wanted to dote on him again, hold him, feed him with her own spoon. Tell him how much she loved him, but hadn’t he hurt her so much already? Was he worth the endless amount of love she held for him?

“I had to beg for you to love me. Nobody begs for love Yunho. And even if you couldn’t love me, you could’ve tolerated me but you didn’t even want to do that.” A shaky breath escaped from her lips. His heated stare burned holes into her skin, her hair stuck to the back of her neck as sweat pooled under the guise of every humiliating emotion felt to man.

"Let me be yours again, please." he went down on his knees wrapping his arms around her stomach; tears staining the front of her dress. A stream of her own pearl tears soundlessly scurried down her face as she ran her fingers through his thick, black hair.

"Oh Yunho, why can't you understand? You've always been mine. It's me who's never had the privilege of having you." Falling to her knees, she plastered both of her hands to the side of his face, lifting it up gently so she could bore her eyes into his.

“Let me have that privilege again, let me have you in all the ways that you deserve. To have you and hold you in my arms is all I want to do. I will lay down my life for you just to have you again.” A solicitude remained suspended in the air, his staggered breaths pulping the palpable tension- attempting to calm himself.

“I’ve been hurt enough. I really don’t think I can go on being hurt.” He nodded his head understandingly, a look of dejection flooding over his perfect features. Hesitantly, she reached for his hands encasing his larger palm in hers- to grab at his attention. Patting her lap, she motioned for him to draw closer to her. Slowly, he drew closer falling into her laps. “Don’t say anything. I just want to hold you.” To hold you as if I’m going to lose you again. To drink you in as if this the last of drop of water to ever touch the earth.

With his face buried in her torso, his eyes fluttered to a close. Her knees tucked up, hands roaming through his hair as if it were uncharted lands. Wind rushed into the room, the sky dimming to a stony grey.

She knew now. Her worth was void of value but her love for him transcended deeper than the earth, vaster than the seven seas. Her hurt prolonged centuries, an immortal root that would transgress generations. Her heart limped towards him, through ruptured arteries and severed limbs.

“Get up, dear. Si Won-ah is waiting for us.”

•••

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

‘hwang’ meaning yellow

A/N: I was hyping up how sad this would be, so I hope this actually lives up to everyone’s expectations 😭 I did catch myself crying but I am overly emotional sometimes. This has been sitting in my drafts for a good four and a half months, it’s such a relief to finally get it out.

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

#ateez #ateez fanfic #yunho x reader #yunho x you #historical au #arranged marriage #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #kpop #ateez angst #ateez yunho #yunho

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demonslayedher · 9 months

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References for KnY Writers: Taisho Period

Below are links to my entries about the Taisho Period and how it might affect the KnY characters (at least according to canon resources, my research, and my interpretations). Please see here for the full masterlist of References for KnY Fic Writers.

Background info: The Taisho Period (1912-1926) a bit of an in-between period in a lot of ways, with Westernization already several decades underway, but with many new policies not yet uniformly enforced in the countryside. In some ways, rural life went on like it did in the late Edo period. The majority of Kimetsu no Yaiba most likely would have taken place in 1915. This means that it's still a little early for the full-on "Taisho Roman" fashions, but the groundwork was there.

-Notes on Corp salary, simple conversions into Taisho currency, as well as other monetary details -Taisho Period overview of the Yoshiwara Pleasure District -Photos and details of preserved Taisho Period brothel -How a Taisho Period birthday may be celebrated -How a Taisho Period New Years may be celebrated (in the case of the Kamados) -Photography and education in the Taisho Period -More on Taisho education and literacy rates -Marriage and being a girl in the Taisho Period -Polygamy and the Meiji Civil Code -Dating and wedding night protocol -Being queer in the Taisho Period (and beyond) -A few real life folk songs featured in KnY -Taisho Period undergarments -Taisho Period beverages and drinking age (separate masterlist of KnY-related food here)

-Flush toilets were a thing (and there are toilets in the Infinity Fortress)

#kny references #kny reference #kny nerdery

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spookwyrdie · 4 months

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Sweet Spot {part 1}

{part 1}{part 2}{part 3}{part 4}{part 5}{part 6}

Baker Felix x Florist reader

summary: You're putting together the floral arrangements for your ex's wedding as a favor, forgetting how passive aggressive he can be about your love life. Fortunately for you, one of your best friend's in the world comes over to feed you sugar and make you a sweet offer to get back at your ex. genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint // word count: 2.8k // warnings: adult dialogue, sexual themes, wet dream // a/n: Trying out something longer and fluffier this time! If you'd like to be on the taglist, reply to this post or send me an ask 🥰

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

You should have never agreed to do this. Your fingers were sore from wire wrapping all the different bouquets, one for each bridesmaid, the ring bearer’s pillow, and the flower girl. So far, you were only halfway done with the floral arch and hadn’t even gotten to start on the table settings yet. There were bits of torn leaves, crushed flower petals, and feathers strewn around your apartment, trying to deal with the last minute changes in aesthetic that the bride asked for.

The shift from a classic summer bouquet to something more bohemian wasn’t impossible, but it was a challenge with the wedding a week away. It definitely wasn’t your favorite aesthetic in the world, but you were determined to make it work.

The question of why you had agreed to do this at a quarter of your normal fee was beginning to fester in your mind, especially for your ex’s wedding.

You and Johnny were amicable, sure. Civil might be a better word for it. You didn’t have any leftover romantic feelings for the man - that ship had sailed ages ago. The main problem you had now with him is that he always seemed to be in competition with you, always trying to steal your thunder or diminish your accomplishments. It was always underhanded and passive aggressive and you didn’t have the energy to really push back.

Speaking of the devil, your phone pings with a text message.

❌J: hey y/n, just checking in about the florals. Jenny is freaking out and wants an update you: working on them now! [image attached] ❌J: wow! Hard at work! Is this the bride’s bouquet? you: yep! Putting the finishing touches on it now’s ❌J: it looks really busy, are you sure this is what she asked for? you: yes. I promise I’m following her vision that we spoke about during our last consultation. ❌J okay! just making sure! I know some of these changes need a quick turn around. ❌J: oh also… ❌J: i wanted to chat with you about something you: ? ❌J: I know things have been a little rough in the dating department for you lately but you still officially have a plus one to the wedding, in case you wanted to bring your sister or someone! you: …thanks. you: Don’t know where the idea that I’m struggling with dating came from, but I appreciate the plus one. ❌J: I had just heard through the grapevine is all. ❌J: there’s someone out there for everyone! You’ll find them eventually. ❌J: like me and Jenny! We were just made for each other 💕 you: okay, Johnny! Great chatting, I’ll get back to work now!

You swipe out of the text thread and pinch your brow, the feeling of a building tension headache settling right between your eyes. His audacity is always bewildering, he can have such a sickeningly sweet tone while making sure to get a jab or two in to hurt you.

Sure, you haven’t had a solid relationship since the two of you broke up, but he doesn’t have to rub your nose in it. The relationship ended amicably enough once you both graduated from college, realizing that the two of you were drifting apart as you pursued your respective careers. Staying civil made it easier to maintain the friend group, neither of you had any real reason to be upset with the other. That didn’t mean you were close, you still kept your distance.

When he had gotten engaged, you were genuinely pleased for him, and a little relieved. Sometimes, when you’d run into each other at parties, he would make it a point to find you and tell you how well he was doing. You’d get the feeling that he was trying to showboat his accomplishments - he always wanted to tell you all about his successes, all the great things going on in his life.

He got a great job at some law firm, a promotion and another promotion. Then he had met Jenny, they got engaged, and wasn’t it just so cute that their names were so similar? Jenny and Johnny, Johnny and Jenny! It became their whole personality as a couple and he’d corner you to tell you about how amazing she is and how he had never met anyone who just got him like she did. Every time you’d deal with this, you felt like he had poured corn syrup on you with how saccharine he sounded.

He’d hear about your ebb and flow of love and give you such a pitying look. “Oh you haven’t been dating? That’s too bad, there’s someone out there for everyone! Just look at me and Jenny!” Just throwing small digs in your direction that flew under the radar for most of your friends.

But you knew.

You knew he was always trying to make you feel like you had “lost” the break-up.

~~~

A knock at the door brings you back to the present moment.

“Y/n~! It’s me! Open up,” a deep voice lilts in a sing-song voice.

You shake your head, trying to snap out of your shitty mood to answer the door. On your doorstep is one of the best things that came into your life with his ice blond hair, freckles, and a smile that could light up an entire room. Before you can say anything, Felix barges past you into your apartment, holding two paper bags with the bakery’s logo on it.

“I brought some new flavors for you to try, I’m experimenting for the springtime,” he says as he starts unpacking travel pastry boxes with different colored cakes inside.

“Ugh, please don't talk to me about weddings right now,” you sigh. He pauses his unpacking.

“What’s up? You sound like someone kicked your dog.”

“I just had the most passive aggressive interaction with my ex, Johnny.”

You open the text thread to show him.

“This is your ex?”

“Yep.”

“Damn, he’s not even being subtle about it.”

“Nope.”

The room is silent for a split second before Felix brightens up again.

“Well fuck that, the flowers look great, despite the boho bad taste. Come try these new cake flavors I’ve been playing with! Sugar always cheers me up.”

You give him a small smile, he always knows exactly how to bring a little optimism into a shitty situation. “Sure Felix, what have you got for me?”

Soon, you have 4 plates and forks out for the different cake concoctions.

“I’ve been playing around with different florals and citrus for spring, so here we have a lavender cake with key lime frosting. Over here, we have an earl grey cake with lemon curd and lemon buttercream. Then we’ve got a vanilla cake with a pistachio filling and a rose buttercream. Finally we have a jasmine green tea cake with yuzu curd and a vanilla glaze,” Felix says, bouncing on his toes.

“Okay, Mary Berry! They all sound delicious.”

“You have to be one hundred percent honest with me, I want actual feedback on these!” He grabs your shoulders and looks deep into your eyes, your heart skipping a beat briefly at his intensity. He looks so eager for you to try his different concoctions. Most couples weren’t looking for anything too extreme in the way of flavors, most opting for a basic white cake and buttercream, so you knew Felix loved to share the uncommon combinations he came up with.

They were all so beautiful, perfectly cut out and frosted with care. You picked up your fork enthusiastically.

“Fuck, Felix, that’s delicious,” you say, savoring the citrus flavors. Every single one you tried was more delicious than the last. Your favorite had to be the earl grey and lemon. “This one tastes like how a springtime tea party feels.”

He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling into little crescent moons, his freckles stand out when he smiles so brightly.

“Thanks, it’s always nice when I get to play around with flavor,” he says, leaning back into his seat. As he stretches, his shirt rides up to reveal a small expanse of the bare skin where his hip meets his lower belly, the lean muscle definition standing out in the lamp light. You tear your eyes away when you realize you’ve been lingering your gaze on the scant inch of skin.

“Oh my god, did tell you?” Felix blurts out suddenly. “I’ve been working with this couple for an upcoming wedding. Absolute nightmare. Terrible taste! Guess what they finally settled on for their flavor.”

“I don’t know, something basic I bet.”

“Fucking mint chocolate chip.”

“Mint chocolate??? For a cake???” You reel back in horror. What on earth kind of combo was that for a wedding cake?

“They insisted on it!” he says, throwing his hands in the air. “Well, the bride did. The groom was never at any of these sampling appointments. She was onher own and really pushing for something unique.”

“I guess it’s unique to make your guests hate you for your choice of cake flavor,” you say, grimacing at the thought of a mint chocolate cake. “Disgusting.”

“I feel bad for their wedding guests. That’s such a controversial flavor for ice cream, I can’t imagine how it’ll go down for the entire reception.”

You hum in agreement, picking up your fork and finishing off the last of your cake in one frosting heavy bite.

“Y/n you’ve got a little-“ he reaches up, gently holding your chin.

His gaze softens as he looks at your lips and you freeze in place. Your heart picks up speed, hammering in your chest, at this gentle touch. He doesn’t know that you have had a thing for him for years now, but you’ll never tell him. You love having him as a friend too much to ruin it, he’s the one spot of sunshine on dreary days. There’s no chance he’d reciprocate your feelings, he could literally date anyone the way strangers constantly fall in love with him at first glance.

But right now, he’s focused on your lips, his thumb brushing them carefully, swiping the bit of frosting that was left from your last bite.

“Oh my god!” You force out a laugh, pulling out of his grasp in embarrassment. Taking a napkin, you start furiously wiping your mouth. “Sorry! It was really good!”

“That’s the perfect kind of response to one of my baked goods!” He smiles, licking the frosting off of his thumb. Your heart leaps into your throat.

Felix never seems to notice the effect he has on people, overwhelming charm, the magnetic pull he has on anyone within 10 ft of him. When the two of you worked at the old cafe together, you’d take a mental tally of the number of customers that would leave with hearts in their eyes after ordering coffee from him. You thought that after five years of friendship you could get used to it via exposure therapy, but his allure slams you in the chest all the time. You try to keep yourself grounded in reality when he tugs at heartstrings like this - he does this with everyone so you try not to lose your head. But the way he’s looking at you now, leaning in close with fierce affection in his eyes, makes the delusion that he feels the same about you seem almost real.

You giggle nervously and move to tidy things up from the table after you two are done sampling. Felix leans against the counter, watching you, as you start washing the plates.

“I have an idea,” he says. “For your plus-one situation.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“What if you take me as your date?”

“Be serious, Felix,” you chuckle.

“I am being serious, I clean up real good,” he says, grabbing at your waist playfully.

“Oh!” A fork slips out of your hand and clatters into the sink. “I mean- you don’t have to do that.”

“Nah, I’d like to! Think about it, it’d be perfect, Johnny has no idea who I am and I can brag you up while I’m there. Rub his nose in it for a change.”

“I-“

“Just think it over, no rush. I think it’d be real fun though!”

You look at him blankly for a moment, your heart thumping in your chest again. “ Yeah, I’ll think it over.”

~~~

Your eyes are closed when you feel a pair of hands slink around your body, drawing you into a chest of hard, lean muscle. The scent like an apple orchard on a rainy autumn morning greets you, petrichor and wood mixed with something crisp and sweet, enveloping you in a sense of comfort. You look up to see who’s arms embrace you to find Felix hovering over you, deep brown eyes locked onto yours. You’re so close you could count the freckles on his cheeks and give a name to each one. He hums as he pulls you in closer, a deep resonance vibrating through his chest, warming you in more ways than one.

Tell me it’s real, he says, almost silently.

It’s real, you reply.

He leans down to capture your lips, pausing above you to nudge his nose against yours and smile.

I’ve waited so long for this, he says as he finally presses his lips against yours softly. His movements are gentle but insistent, trying to communicate with you, speaking quietly of the years of yearning that have been building. Your skin sings with the way his hands splay on your lower back, pushing your pelvis into him as he presses his tongue against your lips, asking for permission. The kiss deepens and you fall further into him, molding yourself against him. Your hands wind their way into his hair, those ice blond strands wrapped up in your grasp.

A small tug has him detaching from your mouth in a gasp, arching into you ever so slightly as his eyes flutter shut. His fingers find purchase in your plush hips, gripping into you harshly as he yanks you even closer to his body, no space between your body and his. Your breasts press into him, feeling his every breath move against you. He groans at the feel of you before he wraps you up into another kiss, this one more fervent. The way your soft body fits against his so well has his tongue dancing with yours, surging into you then backing away, teasing you until your body feels like it’s on fire.

You whimper into his mouth when he shifts, coaxing your feet apart to slot his thigh between your legs. He bears down on your hips, pressing your core against his flexed muscle. Liquid heat pools in your belly as he starts rocking against you, feeling his length against your hip, pleading for friction. His hands snake down to grab onto your ass, kneading into the thick flesh, controlling the pace of your grinding into him.

You feel that arousal building inside of you, the tension has you clenching while you rut your hips against him. You feel how wet your panties have become as they slide over your clit, your hips stuttering against him, nearing your peak.

Felix, I’m- you start to say but he cuts you off with a kiss.

Come for me, y/n, he murmurs against your lips. I want all of you. I wanna feel you lose control.

His words have you moaning, your brow furrowing as your hips shake. He holds you steady as he bounces his leg slightly to add extra pressure. You gasp, feeling your muscles tighten.

Give it all to me, he whispers against your lips. It belongs to me.

His voice sounds distant as you feel yourself coming to the edge.

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. You find yourself in bed, thrusting pitifully against your pillow, your heart racing and your skin flush with arousal. As you start to pull yourself out of the dream you were so wrapped up in, your orgasm shatters through you, moaning into the dark of your room. Your legs shake as your core muscles flutter, throbbing at the thought of Felix’s mouth on yours. As you start to come down from your high and settle into reality, you can feel your own pulse in your clit, your legs tangled in your sheets with a pillow between your legs, forehead glistening with sweat.

It felt so real, like you could actually feel the ghost of his hands on your ass rocking you against his body, his groans ricocheting in your chest. You haven’t had a dream like that in ages, it was so vivid. You wanted it to be real so badly.

That settles it. You reach for your phone, the light piercing through the darkness, staring at the clock that reads 4:26 AM. Opening your messaging app, you type out a quick text and hit send.

you: okay Felix, let’s do it. Will you be my plus one?

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #felix x reader #felix smut #stray kids fanfic

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