#pays almost the same as my last job too >:D

[e77y]

Employed on Saturdays this summer 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

[anashins]

Pairing: lawyer!Jaehyun x divorcée!reader

Genre: age gap, drama, romance, smut

Word Count: 24k

Summary: Jaehyun has a ruthless, cruel and not so legal way of getting his clients everything they want out of their divorce. After all, to do the job right, a lawyer like him is not supposed to believe something like 'love' exists in the first place. That is until he meets his next client who also has a not so legal way of creeping right into his heart and make him question all his morals.

A/N: Man, I miss Jaehyun :( D-541

“I want to divorce my husband.”

Jaehyun hadn’t spared you, the young woman who had been following him since the lobby, a single glance, purposefully ignoring every word you were trying to direct at him as he walked hurriedly and steadily to the elevators. 

He was already running late that morning thanks to a fight with the parking attendant since apparently, his permission for the parkade had run out last night. And now, an annoying woman blocking the elevator doors after he had gotten in and hindering Jaehyun from reaching his office’s floor was a bit of a stretch at this ungodly hour. Eventually, he couldn’t ignore your existence anymore. 

“Move,” he demanded, annoyed.

“I won’t,” you objected.

Pressing the ‘close’-button over and over again, Jaehyun rolled his eyes at your perseverance as not even the heavy doors hitting your arms could chase you away. He stared at you, observing the persistence mirrored in your eyes as you pushed the doors aside again. He silently gave you credit for that.

“I want to divorce my husband,” you said again. “And I need you to successfully do so!”

Jaehyun let his eyes wander as you had piqued his interest ultimately. Your stubborn spirit reminded him a little bit of himself. But only a little bit. He examined you thoroughly. You were dressed elegantly in a pencil skirt, blouse and high heels. No wrinkles in your clothes, hair tidily pulled out of your face, not a strand out of order. You dressed like the average woman approaching him for his help: trophy wives in their thirties up to fifties, trapped in a marriage that was falling apart for always one and the same reason,

the lack of love.

In these kinds of marriages, mutual love rarely existed anymore. It was the same pattern again and again: The woman went blindly and head over heels in love into the marriage and throughout time, got frustrated with their lives as their marriage turned out entirely different from what they had imagined. The husband was almost never at home, business was always more important, and rarely did a case not involve cheating. 

A person who had once been a naive woman in love had usually changed into a vengeful wife who wanted to take her husband to the cleaners by the time they consulted Jaehyun’s law firm. After all, they didn’t believe in love anymore, and that was why his job was so easy, and even a little bit of fun.

But there was one difference that made you stand out significantly from all of his past clients, Jaehyun silently remarked to himself as his gaze stopped on your face: You were young. So, so young.

“Divorce your husband?” he repeated your words. “Aren’t you too young to be married for long enough yet?”

Your expression darkened, but he took it as a challenge. It wouldn’t be the first time he clashed with a potential client. As a matter of fact, it wouldn’t be a successful case for him if his client wouldn’t start hating him at some point - and then preaching him to the heavens when he got them all they had asked for in the process, and more.

“Do you want this case or not?” you retorted. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”

Jaehyun raised a brow. Straightforward and witty. He hadn’t expected that from an early twenty-something. Perhaps, he should pay weight to your words, the fact that he wouldn’t regret it. Judging by your age alone, there was surely more to the story, and he was curious to get under the surface of it all.

Jaehyun removed his hand from the ‘close’-button while simultaneously a moment of relief flashed through his face - along with a grin. 

The door stayed open as he asked, “How long have you been married for?”

“Two and a half years.”

That was nothing.

“Is there a prenup?”

“Yes.”

As always.

“What’s your husband’s name?”

You hesitated.

In a lot of cases, Jaehyun knew his client’s spouses just by their name. Wives of CEOs, chairmen, actors, doctors, politicians, investors … they all came to him.

“Kang Seungmin.”

Jaehyun almost visibly took in an exasperated breather.

“Kang Seungmin who is related to the Aewha Group?”

You nodded. “His older brother is the CEO.”

Pause.

“Be here tomorrow, 8am.”

____

You remembered the day you got married like it was yesterday. 

You weren’t wearing your dream wedding dress. 

Your dress was a designer that your husband’s mother had picked out. It had been too voluminous, too heavy, and it hadn’t suited your style at all. Your makeup had made it hard for you to recognize yourself and they had put too many extensions in your hair. But that was what they had wanted you to look like - and you had complied.

It wasn’t your dream wedding venue. 

It had taken place at the Shilla Hotel and you hadn’t had any say in the decoration, it was all white and beige when you had wanted sprinkles of purple, your favorite color. The cake was vanilla flavored when you had wanted blueberry, and the program had involved a choir, not a band. But that was what they had wanted the reception to be like - and you had complied.

Your friends and family weren’t there. 

You hadn’t known a single person at the wedding except for your future husband’s family. When you had been sitting there, feeling lonely and left out, there was no one you could have turned to, no familiar and friendly face. Your guests were all only business partners and your new family’s friends - and you had complied.

You had never felt so lonely in your life like on the day that was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. But you had complied with everything, because you had been so, so in love.

And what was left of that now?

“So, Mrs. Kang,” Mr. Jeong started the next morning after you had appeared in front of his office at 8am sharp. “After you have filled out all the information about you and your husband, I just want to know one thing…”

“Which is…?”

You hoped he didn’t notice how you kept your shaking legs in place with your palms pressing on top of your thighs. You knew exactly what was coming and you were prepared for that, but it always made you nervous, regardless of how many times someone would bring this topic up. And it happened almost every time.

“What is it that you’re after?”

You were confused. That wasn’t what you had expected. “Pardon me?”

The lawyer took off his glasses with which he had previously read through your information carefully and put them next to him on the desk. Then, he propped his elbows against the table and leaned in to you. It was very intimidating as if he wanted to look straight into your soul to detect every lie that could possibly pass your lips.

But there was nothing for you to lie about.

“What do you want out of this marriage, Mrs. Kang?” he carefully elaborated. “Money? The house? Company shares? I can get you everything.”

“In all honesty, Mr. Jeong,” you admitted, “I don’t want any of his money, belongings, mansions and company shares. I just want to get out of this marriage and never be involved with this family again. That’s all I want.”

He let out a long sigh and closed the file with your information.

“Are you… done?” you asked.

“Yes. With you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t want anything? No money, no mansions, no company shares? Then, where is the thrill? What do you need me for?” The lawyer leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms behind his head. “I think it’s better for you to look for another lawyer.”

“His material possessions were not the reason I was trying to find consultation with you.” You stayed calm and didn’t want to get irritated by his change in demeanor. “I grew up wealthy already, Mr. Jeong. I’m not dependent on his money. When I turned eighteen, I inherited the trust fund my parents had opened up for me the day I was born. It’s enough to live comfortably until… well, the end of my days.”

“So, you are two wealthy people who have married and you don’t want to take anything from him just out of spite. According to the law, the trust fund still rightfully belongs to you as it had been handed over to you prior to your marriage.” If he was confused by your statement, then he didn’t let it slip. “So, what is it that makes divorcing him so difficult then, Mrs. Kang? What is it that you’re after, exactly? I know there is something after all.”

“It’s not what I’m after. It’s what he is after.” You reached down to your bag, pulling out a file that you then attentively placed on the lawyer’s desk. “Here is a copy of my prenup. Please open page 35. I highlighted the most important parts.”

He put back on his glasses and opened the documents at the respective page. You visibly saw his brows furrow at the paragraph that you had pointed out.

“So, it’s the other way around. In case of a divorce, it’s not him who will lose everything,” the lawyer concluded. “But you will lose everything, and it will be all transcribed to him. Your trust fund money, your possessions, everything from before your marriage even…” He stilled. “Just… everything.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Kang, but…” He looked at you in utter disbelief. And the worst thing was that you couldn’t even blame him. You were very ashamed of yourself, too. “How could you have even signed this in the first place? I have never seen a prenup like this in my entire career. But then again, I've only been practicing in my own law firm for a short few years….”

He was straightforward with a certain sharpness lying on his tongue that tended to take a derogatory way at times. This lawyer had surely seen so much already, but according to his words, this must just be an entire new level of naiveness he hadn’t encountered ever before.

“I was young and in love.” 

There was certainly no other explanation you wanted to give him yet, even though he was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to elaborate the decision and specifically the situation you had been in when signing this agreement. But again, you had to disappoint him. You would have still signed the papers if the circumstances had been different, you were certain of that. Why would it matter if you left out an additional reason?

The lawyer let out a long sigh. It was like you could hear his thoughts in your own mind: Such a naive, stupid girl, getting married so young and signing away all her rights just to be with a powerful man forever, out of blinded love. You endured it like so many other things in your life.

“Love.” He snorted, confirming your thoughts, and closed the marriage contract with a thud. “It’s absolutely good for nothing. You clients prove it to me every time.”

You tilted your head. “Just because I’m getting divorced doesn’t mean I don’t believe in love anymore, Mr. Jeong. Those are two very different things.”

“I’m aware of the fact that my clients almost all get married out of love like you,” he corrected himself strictly and made his standpoint clear to you. “Now, wanting a divorce from the person who you once had such strong feelings for… how can you still believe in something that has failed you so thoroughly?”

“But love hasn’t failed me,” you objected. “It’s the person who failed me. And just because that certain man has let me down, doesn’t mean someone else will, too. There is not only one person in the world to love. I’m not going to say I hate all men and will never meet someone I can open myself up to again, Mr. Jeong. I suppose that’s what the majority of people who come here say to you, am I right? But I won’t. There are people in their fifties finding love all over again, so if I have to wait another thirty years just to experience the same, I will willingly do so. I will never give up hope, I won’t let spite devour me whole. I will wait for my time to come.”

He had fallen into silence and his gaze was impenetrable while you kept talking and eventually came to an end. The Lawyer was either baffled by your naivete once again, or you had sincerely taken him by surprise and the usually so witty man for once, since your meeting, didn’t know what to reply.

“You’re so full of positivity, Mrs. Kang, it almost makes me feel sick. Where is your anger, your vengefulness?” he eventually responded, and you felt a wave of disappointment wash over you. “But since you don’t seem to have my clients’ usual bitterness and grimness to drive by, we will rely on your insolent positivity to win this case. Or stupidness, depending on how you view your case.”

You had never been so subtly attacked and complimented at the same time, but since it was coming from the ruthless attorney himself, you put more weight on the latter. “Whatever works for me, I guess.”

He folded his forearms on the table and leaned forward, closer to you, narrowing his eyes before he almost whispered, “But there is one thing I always demand from my clients to win a case and my trust eventually. Without this certain thing, you will lose both.”

You inhaled deeply in expectation. “And that is…?”

“The entire truth.” The response was so simple, but you sensed there was more depth in it. “If I ask you something, you’re going to tell me the truth. You cannot conceal or hide anything. There cannot be a detail that you consider too irrelevant or something that you consider too embarrassing to tell me. You will tell me everything I ask for and not ask for, are we clear?”

At this moment, you felt like he was staring right into your soul, marking this a make it or break it point for your business relationship. If you lied, would he be able to detect right away? Or was he bluffing and only wanted to intimidate you? Had he already sensed that you had left out an important aspect in your marriage?

“We are very much clear.”

A grin flashed across his face, making you frown. “Very well. Then I need you to do the exact opposite.” 

“The opposite? Then… I should lie?”

“Exactly. And please don’t hit me with the ‘I cannot lie, I’m a sincere person, I cannot hurt someone’ bullshit. We don’t do that here. In order to win what you want, you have to play dirty. Be honest with me, but when I need you to lie and do reprehensible things, you have to comply. Do you think you can do this, little miss sunshine? Or are we way too sincere and positive for that?”

“I’m sorry, if you mean playing dirty do yo-”

“Can you do that?” he interrupted you. “This is the only thing I need to know. Can you play dirty when I need you to?”

This shouldn’t surprise you. Deep down, you had always known what kind of lawyer he was. Everyone knew. That was why you had eventually seeked out for him. You couldn’t win this case on your own or with any lawyer, it had to be him. You had tried so hard and had approached not only attorneys in this city, but all over the country - to no avail.

This lawyer was your last resort, and never had you thought you would go this far. But if you had to lie and play dirty if asked to break free from your golden cage, then that was what you were going to do.

If you had to play dirty to see your family again, then you would do so.

You gulped, but still brought out, “I can do that.”

Even though it came reluctantly, he still believed you and said with a satisfied smile, “Very well, ma’am.”

_____

“So, this is the golden cage that you’re always referring to.” Your lawyer stood in the lobby, inspecting the entrance location. “Interesting.”

It was an odd sight for you - to have your divorce lawyer, who was technically still a stranger even after meeting a few times in his firm, in the home that you were sharing with your husband. But then again, in these two and a half years here together, your house had always been filled with only strangers and people you weren’t fond of, so this wasn’t quite a new experience.

Your home was a multistory penthouse in a high rise building in one the city’s wealthiest neighborhood, because another quarter was a degradation for your husband’s family’s status. It was all too modernly and minimalistically designed with no touch of personal memories in the form of pictures or belongings. The furniture was too clean, the art too abstract, the rooms too empty. It had always felt more like a museum rather than a home for you - grand, impressive and utterly overwhelming.

You had spent days endlessly wandering between the floors and looking out of the gigantic window across the river out of which one side of the penthouse was entirely crafted, spanning over two levels. This was the only thing you liked about your home as it was easier to dream yourself away while watching the sunset. Many times, you had imagined living on the other side of the river, too. Where it wasn’t all filled with stuck up millionaires, people too focused on changing their appearances and overall shallowness.

You had tried so hard to connect with this life, but even though you had grown up wealthily on this side of the river as well, there was one thing you were missing but had been showered with all throughout your childhood right until your marriage: love, comfort, warmth.

“I wonder how much this is?”

Your lawyer had picked up an ornate porcelain vase from the side table and threw it into the air. Your heart nearly stopped as you watched the decor flying off and gasped. Reaching out your hands, you tried to catch the vase yourself, but a moment later, it was landing safely in your lawyer’s hands again, who then turned to you, grinning.

“I guess it's very expensive,” he concluded.

You yanked the vase out of his hands and returned it to where it belonged. “Don’t do that again! This decor is finely picked out by my in-laws, and if there is only one vase slightly out of arrangement or one single statue looking in the wrong direction when they come over - which is almost every day - hell will break loose.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “That’s exactly what I imagined after what you told me about them. How can someone endure living here anyway?”

“I’m tougher than you think, Mr. Jeong.”

“Hm.” His eyes then fell on your appearance and scanned you up and down. “At first glance, you look like you totally belong here with your pantsuit and perfectly styled hair.”

“Just because I look like I belong here, doesn’t mean I do, Mr. Jeong.”

“Wise words for someone so young who doesn’t always make wise decisions, ma’am.”

You exhaled deeply. “Can we get over this as quickly as possible? You came here for a reason, right? Let’s get seated on the living room and-”

“Seats won’t be necessary,” he waved off. “You have to show me around your home.”

“And why would I have to do that?”

“Your husband is overseas on a business trip you’ve said, and I have to get a picture of the physical possessions, with how much money we’re dealing with apart from bank accounts, shares and all that stuff.”

“I see, that makes sense. But nothing here belongs to me, though.”

“That’s even better.” He turned around. “Which room is that?”

“The living room.”

“Great. Let’s start there.” Your lawyer entered the area as though he knew the place by heart while questioning, “You mentioned your in-laws visit here every day, Mrs. Kang?”

“Almost,” you partially affirmed while following him. “I guess they can’t let go of their son… and their need to control me.”

“What would they need to control about you? Are you somehow involved in their business?”

Your lawyer looked around in the gigantic living room that faced the panorama window reaching from the ground to the ceiling on the second floor. The sofa was placed in the middle of the area, right in a pit that was accessible by two steps built into the ground, encircling a marble coffee table probably worth a single-family house. Right next to it was a billiard table, most likely valuable just as much. This was going to be a very long evening, considering the inventory and the prices.

“I’m not involved in their business, Mr. Jeong.” You paused for a short while, invisible struggling with something inwardly. But you came to the conclusion that if you couldn’t tell your attorney, who then? “In fact, I’m secretly building my own one.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Which kind of business?”

You remained silent for a few moments until he shifted to you and looked at you with inquiring eyes. “A bridal shop.”

You had already prepared a few witty responses, because whenever you told people about your business idea, they started laughing at you. Especially your in-laws. They had laughed at you so hard and shrugged your idea off immediately that you had never brought it up to them ever again. And your husband? He hadn’t even acknowledged it. You were not allowed to work in this marriage anyway.

That was why you almost desperately needed to win this case and all your money back - to fulfill your dream and reunite with your family. You could do that. That was how much you believed in yourself. Just nobody else ever did.

“So you like wedding dresses, ma’am?” your lawyer asked almost in passing, but there was no mocking undertone in his voice. “Somehow very ironic for someone who’s filing for divorce, don’t you think?”

“It’s my passion, Mr. Jeong.”

“How come?”

“I told you I will always have hope and I will always believe in love. That’s what I want to pass on as a message to someone like me. Someone who has found the love of their life, no matter for the first, second or third time, someone full of hope and brightness. Just because you haven’t experienced it yet or because one love has ended, doesn’t mean you’ll never experience this special kind of connection ever. It makes me happy to be part of something so significant. It keeps me going, it keeps me… hopeful, you know.”

“So you want to be part of other people’s special day to keep the thought alive that one day, you will still find the love of your life?” 

You clicked your tongue over the fact that everything coming out of his mouth sounded so… negative. “If you want to put it like this… I rather see it as an opportunity to share your happiness with equal minded people.”

“Why wedding dresses and not flowers then? Isn’t it more fulfilling to bring joy to people’s everyday life with flowers they give someone else most of the time?”

“You’re right, Mr. Jeong.” You smiled as you did not disagree with each other on this topic. “But my mother is a fashion designer and my father is an art dealer, so that’s the natural trajectory of my life. I love fashion, even if it doesn’t look like it. But there is only very little you can experiment with style-wise when all eyes are on you and you have to keep up a certain reputation according to your in-laws. I hide a lot of pent-up creativity not many people know of.”

“Oh, who would have guessed you’re not always all pantsuits and pencil skirts, Mrs. Kang.” He shrugged. “So you truly believe in it?”

“In what?”

“In love that lasts a lifetime.”

“As I said, Mr. Jeong… if we cease to believe in love… what is there to live for?”

"Wealth. Popularity. Freedom. Fun.” He snickered, but not in a way in which he made fun of you. He was more impressed by his own funny answer.

“But you have no one to share this with. Doesn’t your happiness then only last for so long?”

“Oh, I do have people to share this all with. Just because finding love is not my priority doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the company of beautiful women.”

You let out a deep sigh, but he shrugged your reaction off. Despite that, you had ended the topic on a  good note, because for the very first time ever, you were allowed to talk about your passion without getting cut off immediately.

By that time, you had already arrived at the kitchen. It was an impressively wide, open room made of expensive white marble which appeared unused for ages as it was spotless and shiny. As a matter of fact, just as it appeared, it was never used by anyone in this family - that much was true. This kitchen functioned only as a showroom when the family had guests over to lay out the appetizers and the buffet.

“So you have people who cook for you?” your lawyer concluded.

“It’s a personal cook that has gotten hired, yes.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Must be nice being rich, having people cook and clean for you every day.”

“Trust me, Mr. Jeong,” you opposed, “it’s not all that.”

You both then continued on to the second floor, and you could see him turning more and more impressed with the fact how your house was furnished. Not only the first floor was luxurious, but every other room as well. If there was something touching the ground or the walls, one could be sure that its worth came at least close to a small car, from furniture to decoration.

“Do you have to go in there?” you pressed through gritted teeth, and your lawyer rolled his eyes as you both stood in front of the closed master bedroom. “It’s a private area and there is not much inside.”

“Unless you have some secret toys lying out in the open, there is nothing to be ashamed of, we all know what’s going on in bedrooms, don’t we, Mrs. Kang?”

He grinned, unaware of the fact that there hadn’t been something going on in this bedroom for at least a year already. You also suppressed a gasp about his unhinged comment that was not very gentleman-like. But you also weren’t surprised your divorce lawyer, who always told you to play dirty, would leave dirty comments as well. You would just ignore them like the lady you got trained to represent.

“I guess you’re not sharing the bedroom anymore?” your lawyer asked as he wandered around in your private chamber after having opened the space.

“What has this got anything to do with my divorce?” you wanted to know, slightly enraged.

“A lot. If you can confirm that you haven’t shared a bed in quite a time, it’s easier to believe that your marriage has been in the shambles for so long and not a decision simply made overnight.”

“Divorce is never a decision simply made overnight, Mr. Jeong,” you clarified, but he corrected you instantly, 

“I didn’t mean it that way, Mrs. Kang. You will wonder how many clients come to me directly the day after they caught their partner cheating and change their minds to return to them a few days later. I want to know how serious you are and that it’s not a decision made on an impulse.”

“I don’t love my husband anymore, Mr. Jeong. Isn’t my tone sincere enough, my expression when I talk about my failed marriage? The fact I go through these lengths at my age?” Your voice got louder and louder, but he didn’t interfere. “But if you need to know about that part of my life too, then yes, I can confirm that my husband and I haven’t shared this bed for a little over a year already as he’s sleeping in his office.”

“Relax, okay?” he comforted you as you had ended your speech. “I was only asking.”

You dropped your head, suddenly ashamed of your slight blow up. “I’m sorry. That’s not… I’m usually not like this.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s normal to feel all these emotions going through a divorce. Sometimes, you need a ventil. It won’t be the last time that you talk to me like that, so let it all out. You’ll be surprised how much it helps.”

He was right, you thought to yourself, feeling a little bit lighter around your chest. But to your disadvantage, you bathed in that moment for a second too long and missed your lawyer opening another door in your bedroom of which he had probably assumed was your walk-in-closet.

“No, don-”

You stretched out your hand and wanted to reach him, but you weren’t fast enough and could only watch the door swing open, revealing a small room next to the bedroom that was certainly too spacious to only be a closet.

Instead, what he found in the room was a crib by the window where dim light was making its way through half-closed curtains. A light shade of yellow had been chosen for the tapestry, matching the beige carpet while the remaining furniture such as the changing unit and the crib itself were white. A few pictures on the walls added a playful undertone to the room, but that was it.

“I was only allowed to choose the pictures,” you explained recently as you slowly approached him. “They are sunflowers in different shapes. You know what sunflowers stand for?” You smiled meekly. “They stand for happiness and joy. This room should have brought me happiness and joy, but instead, it gave me years of sadness.”

He didn’t ask. Perhaps, he could figure it out himself as you had neither mentioned nor brought a child to your appointments with him. If not, then he sensed it wasn’t the right time to push the topic just yet.

“Let’s go,” your lawyer eventually exclaimed and closed the door behind him. “Let’s make your living room a bit messy when I unpack my laptop and we note down the cost of every item in here. That’s gonna be fun!”

He sometimes came off as rude and uncouth, but he knew when to stop talking.

_____

“What’s that?” You unpacked the plastic bag in front of you and pulled out a black long sleeve, black pants, black sneakers and a black beanie as you unsuccessfully attempted to crack a joke, “Were black clothes on sale today?”

“Those are your clothes for tonight.”

“If you haven't noticed yet, Mr. Jeong…” You looked down on yourself. “My style is classic, elegant. Not streetstyle, not coquette, or whatever this is. I’m still representing the family I married into and cannot wear this.”

“I’m sorry, but black cashmere sweaters were not on sale today, ma’am,” your lawyer said, and as you drew a closer look at him, you noticed that he was dressed all in black already too, and not in his usual suit, but more casual, even wearing a beanie himself. “Now undress and change into the clothes that I brought.”

“What would I wear this for?” You lifted up your hands and pulled up the pants. You usually never wore pants. “Where are we going? To the club? I don’t go to clubs.”

“No, we’re going to your house.”

“And why would we need these clothes if we’re going there?”

Somehow, you sensed you wouldn’t like the answer at all. “Because we’re going to rob you.”

“I- I don’t understand. Robbing… me? My home? While I’m there?”

“No.” Your lawyer came over to you, took the beanie out of the bag and then put it on your own head. He pulled the ends down into your face, messing up your slick bun so that a few strands stuck into your forehead. “Fits you perfectly.”

“Do you mean…”

The corners of his lips tilted up. “Exactly. You’re going to rob your own house.”

“Are you nuts?!”

“Ma’am, these words out of your mouth?” He snickered. “Change into the new clothes and then we can go.”

“What should this be good for?”

“It sounds cliche, but you really can’t see people who dress in black in the dark very clearly.”

“No, I mean robbing my home. What should that be good for?”

“Ah, that.” He scratched the back of his head. “When there is nothing of value in the house, then there are no items to fight over, hence less work for us. You said you didn’t care about his possessions, right? Then he won’t have anything left in the morning. We’re only going to grab jewelry and this kind of stuff for you to keep or sell. Just out of spite.”

You gasped in shock. “That’s illegal! I’m pretty sure that’s even a crime!”

“I can guarantee you,” he confirmed, “this is a crime on paper. Remember you told me you could play dirty?”

When you had agreed on playing dirty when it was needed, you had hoped that it was only a formality, that he was exaggerating or just wanted to test your willpower. You had never expected you both standing in front of your dark home in the middle of the night, dressed up as robbers just to do exactly that: commit a robbery.

With your arms crossed to hide your shaking limbs, you looked around nervously, sending a quick prayer to the heavens. Even though you lived on the highest floor and had used several backdoors through the building so that no one would know you had even entered in the first place, you still felt the risk of getting caught any second.

“This doesn’t help me at all,” your lawyer complained while handling the entrance door with different tools that made noises and left traces a little too obvious for your liking. 

“There is CCTV everywhere here and you just ruined the door’s frame,” you whispered in agony. “When my husband reports the robbery, they will check the time and date and then see us somewhere!”

“Do you think it’s my first time doing this?” he answered calmly while the door then opened smoothly with almost no sound. You furrowed your brows in question and wondered. Wasn’t the alarm supposed to go off? With a smug smile, your lawyer arose from his position and pushed the door entirely open. “Of course I had let the entire grid be turned off.”

You blinked in confusion. “How?”

“Again, you’ll wonder how far one comes in this country with just a little bribery.”

“That’s not very ethical,” you chided.

“You know what’s not ethical either?” He locked eyes with you. “Your husband taking all the money that’s legally yours from before your marriage, leaving you with no seed capital to start anew, with no prospects. Yes, it’s in the prenup, but what gives him the right to rob you like that just because it’s written on some piece of paper? Ma’am, the world is not a fair place,” he said confidently. “Sometimes, you just have to accept that. So, let’s go on a robbery.”

Your eyes narrowed, your nervosity completely wiped by now. “Let’s start with his office on the ground floor. I know he has some very expensive jewelry stored openly in there.”

Your lawyer’s grin widened. “Perfect.”

He had destroyed the door in a way that carried evidence of forced entry for the police investigation. On your way to the suggested room, you moved through the living area as well, and your lawyer had made it his mission to throw over some chairs and a small side table that had once carried some valuable crystal figurines that your mother in law liked to collect. They then all laid shattered on the floor.

“That was crystal!” you cried out. “Do you know how much it was worth? That was not necessary!”

“We’re on a robbery, not on a shopping trip at Tiffany’s,” he groaned. “Do robbers look like they care about some figurines? They come in a hurry and take everything valuable they can get in a short amount of time. They want the big stuff, gold, silver, money, jewelry… they don’t care for porcelain, vases… or whatever this was, things that are too big and break easily. Remember, we’re robbers, we have to make it look like we don’t care. Now, show me where he keeps his valuables stored.”

“There is way too much valuable stuff. How are we supposed to carry all of it?”

“We won’t.”

Your lawyer moved to the huge cabinet in the living area, stopped there for a moment, and then threw his entire body against the furniture. You let out a loud gasp, and another one as he pushed against the cabinet one more time, bringing it to a fall along with the pieces that were stored inside, instantly shattering in the process. The noise was immense and you had to cover your ears. He might not look like it in his suit, but now that he was only wearing a rather tight shirt, you noticed that your lawyer was very well built and that this was the reason why the cabinet hadn’t stood a chance from the beginning. 

He let out a “Phew!” as he turned to you and wiped over his forehead. “You can take on destroying his files and papers, just everything important to him. Let me handle this physical stuff. Don't worry, I made sure the neighbors on the floor beneath weren’t there tonight.”

You understood why you had to do this. If there weren’t many valuable items you had to fight over, the higher would be the chance they would let you off with your own money and the less time and nerves it would take to finalize the divorce, yet the sentiments that tied you to this place…

… they were nonexistent.

Opening all of your husband’s cabinets, rummaging through them and pulling stuff out just to scatter them everywhere felt somewhat very satisfying. You saw all his important files and papers on the ground and stomped on them like a maniac. Everything he worked so hard for, everything he owned while trying to steal from you simultaneously like he had done all your life already. Back in the days, you had just been too young and naive to notice.

You had held back so much during all this time and had never found a way to verbalize your feelings. A lady didn’t do that. A lady was always graceful and just endured. Right now though, you didn’t feel very ladylike. And it was the best feeling in so long.

You only stopped when your lawyer stood there next to you, arms folded across his chest, and there was an edge of mocking delight in his voice when he asked, “You’re done already?”

You lowered your head as he had caught you red-handed, but you also couldn’t wipe off the faint beam that remained on your lips even when he started rummaging through your husband’s cabinets in search of the watches you had told him were stored in there.

“I wasn’t aware he has such a large collection of the most expensive watches in the world,” your lawyer commented when he lightened up a drawer with the flashlight. “If I keep one to myself, would he notice? But then again, he won’t see any of these again anyway. So maybe I should ask you?”

You let out a long sigh and grabbed the watch from him that you then threw into the bag that he had brought along with. “That’s not funny. I think you make enough money to buy yourself an expensive watch.”

“Not this brand, but well…”

You rolled your eyes and continued with the sham robbery on the lower floor before moving on to the second. It was easy to destroy your own belongings as well. You didn’t feel any sentiment as you had expected. Over time, you had grown so resentful, at this point, you just really didn’t care anymore, except for…

“Don’t. Not inside there!” You threw yourself against the door your lawyer had initiated to open. There was no way he didn’t know what kind of room this was after his last visit, so he went in there with a purpose. As you lifted your head, a flash of empathy crossed his face, but you stopped your pleading gaze from breaking eye contact with him. “Please…”

You had been wrong. There was still something your sentiments were tied to in this place, the room where your baby should have lived.

“I’m sorry,” you heard him tell you with the lowest and softest form of tone he had ever addressed you with. “But if we leave this room out, then something is off. We have to at least rummage-”

Your front teeth pressed into your lower lip as you struggled with either making way for him or fighting him. You had hoped that, regardless of how much time had already passed, your past could always remain here as long as you kept this room locked up - just as your memories.

Letting another person inside would mean you had to close this chapter. And even if your therapist back then had also advised you to change this room into another event space and move on, you had never brought your heart to agree to that. What would happen if you moved out eventually? Wasn’t this the best opportunity to finally take this step? But it came so sudden…

“Can I still keep something?” you asked timidly. “My husband never entered this room, so he wouldn't miss anything, and I know what you want to say… I understand. Just please… one thing I can keep for myself? Maybe a jumper or a toy…”

It took a long while until he shrugged and eventually said, “You know… I don’t think there are robbers this cruel who would destroy a baby room. I mean…” He opened the door, but didn’t go inside. “No one would hide valuable possessions inside here anyway. Let’s go.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, and you wondered whether your tone could even carry a tiny fragment of the relief you were feeling right now to your lawyer, expressing how grateful you were for his understanding and gentleness, even though in his world, it might not make much sense at all. 

If he noticed the depth of your gratitude after all, with him risking your scam just to leave you this tiny piece of sentiment, then he didn’t bother showing you.

“Now off to my favorite part… the safe!”

“We won’t reach what’s inside there,” you warned him. “I even doubt his beloved mother knows the passcode to that.”

“Oh, we won’t get to steal what’s inside. But we will try. Ever used a crowbar to hit against something? It’s fun! Letting out a little anger. You’ll like it.”

Oh, how much you indeed came to like it.

____

“Very well.”

Your lawyer seemingly skimmed over the police report before he placed it aside on his desk, deeming it as done. Only a week after the incident, you had brought him a copy of the official papers that your husband had filed to confirm that everything was going according to plan.

After your fake robbery, you had pretended to arrive at home and called your husband in feigned shock that sounded so real over the phone, you nearly believed it yourself. Since he had been in a neighboring city only, he had arrived two hours later, and the performance you had put on in front of him and the police was nearly Oscar-worthy.

“Then, you only have to sign this.” Your lawyer had pulled out another set of documents from a staple on this desk and slid them over to you. “Exactly here, please.”

“What is this?” You read something about a bank in a whole other country that was unfamiliar to you, and a bank account under a name that was unfamiliar, too. “I cannot sign for another person.”

“I know. That’s why you will sign as this person whose name the account is booked under.”

“That’s not legal, I could go to jail for that!”

“This again?” your lawyer groaned. “This is the bank account onto which we will transfer all your money and hide it from your husband and his family. It is required for you to make sure you will keep your inheritance. It will take a few weeks, because of course we can’t just book your whole trust fund money onto another bank from one day to the other, it will take a few steps.”

“So basically money laundering,” you concluded cautiously.

“That’s the legal term, yes. I would describe it as…” He pursed his lips as though he was really thinking hard to come up with something. “Playing hide and seek. It’s suddenly gone and you don’t know exactly how long it will take, but eventually, you’ll always find it.”

You rolled your eyes, but signed the papers nonetheless.

“Very well. Now, grab your purse,” your lawyer summoned while he was taking off his glasses and arose from his chair. “We’re going to celebrate.”

“Celebrate? Celebrate what?”

“This success.” He put on his suit coat, circled his desk and picked up your purse from the chair next to you himself, thrusting it into your lap as you hadn’t made any move to reach for it yourself.. 

“Okay, but where?”

“Can you drink?”

“Not really.”

“Very well, then I’ll teach you.”

You reluctantly got up from your seat as you suspiciously asked, “Is this something you do with all your clients, Mr. Jeong?”

You were only able to watch his back when he opened the door and admitted, “Only with the ones I like.”

While you were still pondering whether his words had been a compliment, he had decided to take you to a shady bar, at a part of the city where you would never set foot in. It was dim and smelled strongly of smoke. The majority of the guests were male, there was a billiard table in the center, and on the menu were only beer and harder beverages.

“This is not the kind of establishment I usually frequent, Mr. Jeong,” you judged harshly while you struggled to find a comfortable position on the bar stool next to your lawyer.

“No, I don’t think you frequent any bar at all.” He had let himself plop on the stool next to you, took off his jacket and ordered two drinks you hadn’t heard of and neither ever sipped on before. “I purposely brought you here. You thought we were going to visit some kind of fancy rooftop hotel bar? Sorry to disappoint you.”

You scanned your environment with raised brows and a look that made men look back at you - but not in the open kind way. They were rather skeptical and curious. Your lawyer was still the best dressed here, everyone else was wearing casual clothes like they had just hopped by after work. They sensed you didn’t belong here, their faces spoke volumes.

“Don’t worry, these guys are harmless and actually nice. They just want a good drink and company before heading home alone, back to their dark and lonely room. It’s just… they don’t see women here that often.”

“I figured that much. What is this place even? Why are we here, Mr. Jeong?”

“It's a place to have fun! Try having fun, will you? Here.” He slid one of the two glasses the barkeeper had just dropped off on the counter closer to you. “Drink. Maybe this will help you to finally loosen up. And drop the ‘Mr. Jeong’-stuff, we’re off duty now.”

You knew there was no way you could say no, and even though you were doubtfully sniffing on the drink, trying to guess what it could be, you had to empty it under your lawyer’s watchful eyes.

“Oh my god!” You were coughing while your entire face heated up. You felt the liquid burning through your throat, making its way all the way to your stomach and settling there with a heat you had rarely encountered before. “What is this?!”

“It’s a drink to have fun! Are you having fun yet?”

“No!”

“Very well.” He downed his own beverage and then raised his hand. “Barkeeper, we need another two of these.”

You didn’t know how long it took for your perception of time to start shifting. You also didn’t know why you didn’t stop drinking, and certainly not why you didn’t say no. He wouldn’t have forced you, that much you were certain of. Maybe it was because you were truly weak. But maybe, in some kind of twisted circumstance, you were truly starting to have fun.

“Here, hold this.” You thrusted your purse and your jacket into Jaehyun’s hands. “I can’t look at this misery any longer.”

You rolled up the sleeves of your blouse and opened the first two buttons before - suddenly feeling not too hot and cramped in your own skin anymore - you strutted over to the men who had gathered around the billiard table, ready to start another set of games.

“May I join?” you asked into the round and earned many curious looks back. “Trust me guys, I’m really good at this.”

You had played billiard in your home so often, it started to bore you the better you got at this game. And with time, it had started to really dread you, because there had never been anyone to play with the many hours a day had to offer. 

“Miss, I don’t think-”

“Let her.” You didn’t see him, but you felt Jaehyun’s presence right behind you. Your chest swelled with confidence and pride. “She said she can do it, so let her.”

The men threw questioning looks at each other, but it didn’t take them too long until they all agreed to let you join, and one of them handed a queue over to you. “Ladies first.”

If your confidence had rooted from the alcohol you had chugged earlier, its effect was starting to lack now, because suddenly, you didn’t feel so full of yourself anymore. You bowed down lightly and positioned yourself on one side of the table. You usually started here, playing at home, but abruptly, you got so nervous with all these men looking at you with a certain edge of judgment they were unsuccessfully trying to conceal. 

If you failed the game’s opening, there would be no coming back from it, the momentum missed. You would play bad and they would all make fun of you. Maybe it would be better if you just backed down now…

“Well, well, well…”

You felt a palm on your lower back as you made attempts to arise from your position, keeping you in place as the hand gently pressed against the push upwards that you made. Jaehyun was preventing you from giving up.

He bowed down to you and whispered into your ear, “You don’t have to impress anyone. Just loosen up, let it go and have fun.”

You closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. He didn’t retreat his hand when you opened them again and angled the queue. He didn’t retreat his hand when you pulled back and pushed into the billiard balls. He only retreated his hand when you turned around to him, throwing your arms around his neck to celebrate that you had immediately put three balls into the holes.

You didn’t know when your hair had loosened and now fell in soft waves around your shoulders. You didn’t know when you had opened a third and fourth button on your blouse, revealing a bit of your undershirt. You also had lost count of the amount of drinks you had already downed the further the night processed.

But what you knew was that you had incredible fun.

“Did you see that, Jaehyun?” You were jumping up and down in front of him after winning another game against one of the bar visitors. “I won again!”

“Yes.” He smiled softly, like you had never seen before. “Well done.”

You tilted your head, your lipstick long gone, your cheeks heated. “It suits you so well, Jaehyun.”

“What?”

“That smile.” You beamed back. “Maybe you should wear this expression more often than that scorny grin. I like this one better.”

You couldn’t clearly see in the dim lightning, but you could swear you caught his ears turn red, and it was incredibly cute.

“Alright, brandy blossom,” Jaehyun then called out after you had won another game. “Time to go home before your hubby returns.”

“Already?” you pursed your lips and put down the queue. 

“You don’t want to be caught reeking of alcohol, all disheveled, right?”

You gasped and stemmed your hands against your hips. “Of course not! Just… another round, please? I need to properly say goodbye to my new friends.”

He gave in, knowing he didn’t stand a chance against the sad face you and the men you had been playing with pulled all at once.

Seemingly annoyed, Jaehyun sighed. “But just one.”

____

“Jaehyun, everything is spinning.” You leaned against him while he put an arm around you and kept you on your feet as you entered the elevator. “And I feel sick.”

“That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you play another round and have a last farewell drink with the other guests.” He pressed the button and watched the door close in front of you both.

“But I had so much fun,” you said as you looked for support by stemming yourself against the elevator wall. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. I would do it all over again. Can we do this again sometime, please… Jaehyun?”

You didn’t know if Jaehyun ever replied to that as you closed your eyes and drifted away. You were moving, that much you knew, or was it all in your memory as well? You didn’t use your own body, but felt like you were being carried, not having to put your feet down. You were floating and a slight breeze pulling on the ends of your hair strands suggested that somewhere, a window must have opened, and then you fell…

… but on a soft cloud.

Your eyes reluctantly opened and you saw Jaehyun bending over you, worry sketched all over his face.

“Thank god!” he exclaimed in relief. “I thought you were passed out.”

“I feel so sweaty and smelly, Jaehyun,” you complained to him, starting to unbutton your blouse’s remaining buttons. “I have to change.”

“I’ll bring you the bathrobe.” But he wasn’t able to leave your side as your hand reached out to him and locked him down with a tight grip around his wrist.

“Please don’t go,” you whined, very much under the influence. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

“I won’t”, he spoke with a voice so gently, even in this state you wondered if it was the same person you spoke to about your divorce. You felt a palm touching your temple, swiping away a few hair strands. “I’ll just bring you a fresh bathrobe.”

Still, you refused and shook your head. “Please stay.”

It didn’t take him a second to answer, “Fine, I’ll stay.”

You drew a deep breather, staring at the half-darkened ceiling that was semi blurry in your drunken state. Only a small light was on, somewhere in the corner. Perhaps, it was the alcohol speaking the following words, but suddenly, you got so sad and hid your face by placing your forearm on your head. 

“Actually, you know… I’m so scared of getting divorced.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m scared that I’ll be alone all my life, after all.”

This time, Jaehyun’s answer took him much longer as if he was carefully thinking about each word. “You’re the most fascinating woman I’ve ever encountered. You won’t be having any struggles attracting men who are handsome and treat you well, I’m sure about that. Just this time, choose widely.”

“I don’t think I want to get married so fast again,” you confessed. “I think next time, I will take it slow. I want to get a degree and open my business first. Then, I want to get married again.”

“That sounds very reasonable. You hadn’t had a chance to enjoy your youth much.”

“But I don’t want one night stands, flings, short-lived encounters…” You dared to peek from under your arm and eventually withdrew it from your face to look at Jaehyun properly. “What if I meet my true love during that time? Will he wait until I’m ready?”

He spoke with confident sincerity that was reflected in his expression as he assured you, “If he truly loves you, then he will wait.”

“But… I want to experience the love I am able to give. What if there is really only one love we get to have in a lifetime, and he has been this love for  me? What if I’ve used up all of my love for this life already?”

“That’s nonsense,” Jaehyun instantly dismissed. “Love is endless, you cannot use it up. Especially you. You have so much love to give, you cannot be the only person out there. You will meet someone whose love is as endless as yours, I promise.”

“How much love have you got left, Jaehyun? Is it still endless too?”

Only at this moment, you realized that you hadn’t let go of his wrist all along. Only at this moment, when he twisted your both’s fingers in a way that intertwined them. Your chest welled up, you hadn’t felt this cared for in what felt like an eternity.

“Yes,” he whispered. “It’s still endless too.”

“Then I’m glad,” you replied with a smile before drifting off to sleep.

____

You didn’t know when you last had fallen asleep with your husband on the same bed, let alone holding hands with him and having his arms wrapped around you from the back. Waking up groggily on your soft bedding, you first saw your intertwined hands resting on your hip, your husband breathing delicately with his face buried in your nape.

It was odd. You didn’t feel put off or disgusted even as normally whenever he even tried to have some kind of body contact with you. No, you felt content, comfortable and warm. So, so warm.

Except for… as your eyes scanned the room, it dawned on you that this was not your house’s wall and neither was that your window you were looking at. This wasn’t your bed either, and behind you was certainly not your husband laying. 

“No, no, no!” Your breath caught and you sat up straight on the mattress, waking up your lawyer with your hectic movements. “No, this can’t be!”

“What’s going on?” He instantly arose into a seating position although his eyes were barely opened yet. “You’re leaving already? It’s only… 6am.”

“Yes!” you screeched and escaped the entangled sheets, starting to adjust your pulled up skirt and open blouse. Your cheeks heated up and you turned around, away from your lawyer’s peripheral so as to not reveal more of your body to him than you already had. “I was supposed to be home by last night! Why am I here? Is this a hotel?”

“You were so drunk, you could barely walk and always drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t just bring you home. I just wanted to make sure…” He paused and then shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Oh my god, what do I tell my husband?” You ran your fingers through your disheveled hair and tried to clean your clothes. You could barely remember the last night. “Where is my phone?”

“Here.” Your lawyer held up the device in front of you. “Zero messages and zero missed calls. Can you calm down now, please? I’ll drive you.”

You took your phone into your hand and looked at it in utter confusion. “That’s strange. Usually, he would call me when I’m not home or at least send me a message. Let’s just hope he didn’t bother checking up in the first place, that would be the best case.” A very unwell feeling suddenly crept up your body, laying itself on your chest and slowly cutting off your air. “Something is off. I need to go home. Really, I need to go home right now.”

Rather cold hands suddenly placed themselves on your left and right cheek, cupping your face. Your lawyer looked straight at you with penetrating eyes. “Please, I need you to calm down first. Now.”

You tried shaking your head, but his grip was too strong. “I can’t-”

“Yes, you can.” There was no talking back. He wouldn’t let you go otherwise. “Calm down, then get dressed and I’ll take you home. Spiraling right now is not helpful. Try collecting your thoughts and then act according to it.”

So you tried as he told you and closed your eyes. You took a few deep breathers, but even though you could set your body at peace just a little bit, your heart still refused to do so. And you got a feeling it was not because of what was awaiting you at home, but rather because your lawyer stood so close to you. It was his presence that caused you to be all irritated at this moment.

A few memory threads flowed into each other again, and pieces of last night seeped back into your mind… Your hands around his neck, his soft smile, his gentle words, his arms carrying you to the hotel room, his fingers intertwined with yours, his chest pressed against your back in your sleep…

You looked at him, utterly petrified. Had you just cheated on your husband?

“You’re coming?” he asked.

You followed him out of the hotel room and into the elevator. You didn’t say a single word and he didn’t pick up a topic to talk about either, so you just remained silent and avoided eye contact at all cost. You wondered if he felt the same way about your unexpected intimacy from the night before: guilty and ashamed - against yourself. 

That was what you would describe it, but it was not what entirely described the bigger picture. Because why else would you have wished not to be still married right now just to have laid in bed with your lawyer for a bit longer?

“Checkout, please,” you heard him say as you stood next to him, totally lost.

Your husband was an attractive man, but your lawyer… You watched his back bend, messy strands falling into his forehead, a crinkled shirt tightening around his chest. A small part of you that had supposedly taken control over you last night, yearned for him in a way you had never yearned for a man before, not even your own husband.

You suddenly broke out in cold sweat and had to look away, fingers gripping tightly onto the jacket in your hand. You were still a married woman, you were not supposed to feel this way about another man yet, even though you didn’t love your husband anymore. You still belonged to him on paper…

“Let’s go.” Your lawyer looked at you, frowning. “Are you okay? You look feverish.”

He wanted to touch your forehead, but you quickly turned your head away. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe you, but let it rest. “Fine.”

You trotted after him, feeling torn about what was morally right and the desires that had started to involuntarily get into your head.

____

Something was off at home, because nobody was there.

You and your husband didn’t speak often except for the necessities. Most of the time, he would sleep at his office in the house, coming back late in the night and leaving early in the morning. Sometimes, when it was very late, he didn’t bother to check up on you at all, assuming you were asleep already. For last night, you had just hoped that it was this exact case.

And just as you were standing there in the lobby, kind of lost and still groggy with a slight hangover starting to announce itself, you got a phone call.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“Hey,” your husband greeted back. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it home last night, and I won’t be able to come back today either. There is too much going on in the company.”

You didn’t bother to care anymore, you hadn’t in a long time. You were just relieved that last night didn’t have any consequences. “I understand.”

“Is mother already gone?”

“M… mother?” 

Your blood froze and your vision shifted to a silhouette that was just revealing itself in the corner and slowly stepping into the weak daylight. You had judged too early, weighed yourself in safety too fast as there it was, your consequences.

“Yes,” your husband responded. “Don’t you think it was nice of her to spend the night, because she was worried you would be alone after the robbery? Anyway, I have to hang up and get back to work. Bye.”

Your arm slowly slipped down, fingers barely still holding onto the phone as you looked at your mother-in-law like you were facing a ghost.

“By the looks of it, it seems like someone’s had a rough night.”

You did your best to keep your voice low and conceal the trembling tone that came along with your answer, “I was at a friend’s house last night.”

Your mother-in-law snickered and approached you, her face not changing a bit - the result of year long surgeries. She was smaller than you and certainly older, but something so wicked and deeply evil had always been surrounding this woman that even her own sons wouldn’t dare to look into her eyes without permission.

Secretly, she was the one running and pulling the strings behind the company, the entire conglomerate even, stemming from one of the country’s richest families for centuries. At least that was what she liked to tell, but your research didn’t reveal such connections. That didn’t make her appearance less intimidating though as even her own husband looked small next to her.

“Don’t fool me, darling. You don’t have any friends.”

Two years ago, you would have apologized deeply and fallen to your knees, begging for forgiveness, even if it meant kneeling for days. But you weren’t the intimidated girl from shortly after your marriage anymore. Losing your child had shaped you deeply and the divorce was the final stage, not the process - even though you still had weak moments. You decided this wouldn’t be one of them.

“You don’t know anything about me or my life.”

Somehow, you felt mentally so strong right now and straightened your shoulders to present self-confidence, aware of the fact that even though your way through this divorce was not the prettiest and most legal, it was the most effective. And truth to be told, they didn’t deserve a clean divorce anyway.

“I see it written all over your face,” she snarled. “You’ve been with another man.”

This woman didn’t deserve a glimpse of your new, true self at all.

This woman who had told her son, “If you had just waited half a year more, you wouldn’t have had to marry her and we wouldn’t have this burden in our family now.”

And the son who had just answered, “I’m sorry to be such a disgrace, mother.”

And you, the timid girl, you had just sat with them and swallowed every tear, because nobody in this family was supposed to cry - not even after losing your own child.

You wondered if that had been the moment you started slowly losing the love for your husband who you had deeply loved from the first the moment he struck up a conversation with you at the university where he had been invited to as a guest speaker. Three months in, you got pregnant and another three months later, were married. 

You had never graduated with your degree, but you hadn’t cared, because you had loved him deeply. For you, it had always been enough - but never for his family. It struck you the moment you had lost your baby and fell from grace.

For two more years, you had wondered whether you could restore the fading love or find another way to feel so deeply again. You had been stuck in a limbo where you questioned if it was some strange form of Stockholm Syndrome you had developed or whether you were just too weak of a person to break free, too afraid to never find love again. 

When one night two months ago, you had found your husband all immersed in work and family problems on the death anniversary of your child which he clearly had forgotten about, you had finally figured that he was a simple man who would always be under the control of his mother. There was no need to fight for what had long been lost. You were much stronger alone.

“You are only still here, because a divorce is a disgrace, never forget that and be grateful you have everything you need. Other women would happily trace places with you.”

“Then let them!” It was the first time you heard yourself raising your voice against her. “Let them replace me! You know we don’t love each other anymore, why don’t you let me go then?”

“Oh, darling.” Your mother-in-law stretched out her hand and touched your cheek. It felt ice cold, but you couldn’t move as your body turned to stone. “I would have, but you’re just so easy to keep here, why bother in the first place? I can keep you low and our reputation stored, it’s much better than dealing with a hassle.”

No, you weren’t easy to keep anymore anymore, you were just very good at hiding all of it and keeping up your facade. Maybe before, you would have caved and given in. Maybe before this all, you would have crouched in front of her. Maybe, before you hired your lawyer, you wouldn’t have had these thoughts at all. But only the imagination of him gave you everything you needed to fight back years of suppression. 

“I’m not scared of you.”

The slap came unexpectedly, leaving a visible mark on the side of your face. You gasped for air as you held onto the burning skin, your senses not coming together just yet over what had just happened. It felt like the spot got handled with many needles trying to push through a thin layer.

“The next time you’re robbing your own house, make sure to not leave footprints all over the scattered papers, the police might be onto something. I don’t know who’s helping you, if that person is a criminal or your affair, but if you really have some kind of shady thing going on behind my back, I will take you down and your entire family with you.” A threat so sharp that cut through the air like a knife. “Nobody knows about this, so I will do you a favor and keep it between us. If you continue with whatever you’re planning, I promise you, you will regret it deeply.”

Your family… you didn’t know when you had last seen them. You missed them dearly and there was no way you could put them in danger.

That was the only thing you could think of before you snapped back to reality as the entrance door closed behind you.

____

“Who did this to you?”

Your lawyer was kneeling in front of you, inspecting your bruised face with hands so gentle and a gaze so soft, it reminded you all of last night. You were sitting on the couch in his office, legs pulled up to your chest, staring at him but at the same time through him.

“Who?” he asked again as you didn’t respond, this time more insistently. He jumped back to his feet. “Who did this to you? Your husband?! I’m gonna k-”

Reluctantly, you shook your head. “No, it was my mother-in-law. She knows.”

“She knows about what? Whatever she knows, it doesn’t give her the right to physically abuse you!” You had never seen him this agitated and furious before as he walked around his office in a haste, apparently in search of something. 

“She knows that I’m onto something… with someone,” you admitted, fearing that he might get angry as you had not been careful enough. “She mentioned my shoe’s footprints over the scattered papers on the ground… I walked all over them, remember?”

“So what?” your lawyer dismissed in an instant. “This doesn’t mean anything. If this divorce makes it to the court, no judge will pay attention to this detail. You live in the house, naturally your footprints will be somewhere.”

You lowered your head, but sensed him walking back to you and pressing something against your cheek, providing instant relief to your burning skin. It was an empty, cold glass. “Sorry, I don’t have anything else here. I hope it helps.”

“Thank you.”

“What else did she say?” he inquired. “Whatever she said, I promise you, in this divorce, I will wring her out until she’s dry and has nothing left anymore. Then, I will push even further, that much I can do.”

“She’s right with everything she’s said to me,” you whispered absent-mindedly, rotating the glass on your skin so that the spot would always meet a cold surface. “I’m so easy to keep, that’s why I’m still there.” It was a paradox to you how a much older and tinier woman had brought up enough strength to hurt you this deeply, inwardly and outwardly. “But what was I supposed to do all this time? I’m from a reputable family and have willingly signed this contract, giving away my rights, my freedom. It was very convenient for them… I was only a convenience that had come along at the right time as their son wasn’t married yet. And then, I couldn’t even bear my child, and it turned me into a disgrace in an instant.”

“Stop!” your lawyer called out, bracing his arms against his desk that then creaked under his weight. His eyes were forcibly closed and there was a huge frown forming on his face. “Don’t ever talk about yourself like this again!”

“But it’s the truth!” you protested. “She may not be in the right, but she is right about me! I willingly agreed to cut off contact with my family, friends, everyone. And then it takes me two years to do something against it! Let’s face the truth…”

“Don’t say that,” he pleaded lowly, his knuckles turning white as he added more pressure to his grip against the desk’s edge. “It’s not like you. You were always so full of hope, in a fighting mode.”

“I still am!” you disagreed. “I still am full of hope and fighting, but let’s face the truth... I’m so young and I will have been through a divorce in the near future. I’ve lost a child, I don’t have a degree, no money for now, no prospects. Who would even want me anymore?”

You didn’t except an answer, it was only a rhetorical question, but he still gave you one,

“Me. I would.”

You heaved up your head, expecting to encounter a grin as your lawyer had just joked around to lift up your spirits in a meek attempt, but as you met his gaze, your breath caught. He was not kidding. He was dead serious, and by now you could quite well distinguish between his serious and joking demeanor.

“Jaehyun…”

His brows drew together, and he eventually broke out in a relieved smile, just a little bit. “Finally, you call me by my first name, even now.”

“Mr. Je- Jaeh-” You shook your head in confusion. You suddenly didn’t know what to think, say or even feel anymore. “Please don’t joke around, now is not the time.”

“I’m offended that you think I’m joking after all this time. I don’t make jokes about that.”

You dropped the glass on the cushion and jumped out of your seat, moving to the other end of the office room, far away from him. You couldn’t bear being so close to him with all that nonsense that he was speaking, because you feared that a big part of you wished for it to become true. 

“You know that I am looking for my one true love.”

“Who said it can’t be me?”

“I’m still married to Kang Seungmin.”

“Then I will have to hurry up with the divorce papers.”

“I want to get a degree and open my business before marrying again.”

“I’m willing to support that and wait.”

“You’re so full of life and I’m so broken.”

“Then I’ll bring you back to life too.”

Why did everything he say sound so illogical, yet so tempting? If life was only that easy as he always made it seem with his shady business, maybe there was still hope for you, too. You longed for the lighthearted young woman you had been in the past, and something inside you, maybe the remnants of her, believed that with him, she could find her way back to the surface.

“You don’t understand the depths of my trauma, you cannot love me, Mr. Jeong.” You turned back to the couch and picked up your purse. Walking towards the door, you told him, “I wish we would have met before all of this happened. I wish you would have met me when I was still in university. You would have liked me more back then and my life would have turned out differently.”

“Your life can still turn out differently, because it doesn’t matter when we would have met. I would have liked you all the same.”

You wanted to walk out, but your fingers remained on the door handle, refusing to move. Your cheeks were burning, but on both sides and for an entirely different reason now than shortly before. You were crying hot tears that were streaming down your face. “You don’t know what you’re saying…”

Suddenly, you felt his hot breath against your neck and flinched. But he didn’t touch you, no matter how desperately you wanted it, and you continued to fight against this desire. 

“We can also fall in love now, forget about the past and start again.”

“This is what you cannot understand,” you spoke earnestly. “I can never forget about the past, Mr. Jeong. And I refuse to do so, because it’s a part of me and will become a part of my partner too. My current husband has failed to allow this to happen to him.”

Then, your fingers were finally moving and you slipped out of his office. You used the stairs this time, running all the way to the ground floor. Only outside of the building, you were ready to come to a standstill and start breathing regularly again. You were sweating unlike ever before, hot and cold waves washing through your body.

But you continued your way by walking, walking all the way home, whether directly or in circles, you didn’t know. You just kept walking until it was nighttime, until you returned to your house where emptiness was awaiting you.

And as you stood there, alone in the darkness, you wondered how long it would take for it to consume you entirely.

You refused to let it get this far. Not again.

____

A few days later, you were standing in front of a grave that you generally avoided visiting except for only one time a year. The pain was too much to bear alone as nobody had ever bothered to accompany you.

This year, you were here for the second time - but this time you had company.

“I’m sorry if the things I’ve said back then were too insensitive,” Jaehyun apologized. “Just because I’m older doesn’t mean I’m more experienced. Of course I don’t know anything about your pain.”

“That’s why I brought you here,” you told him, your look unwavering from the small tombstone. “I want to share it with you. If you still want to love me after this, then I will believe you.”

…

When you found out that you were pregnant, you weren’t shocked like so many girls your age, who had just entered university, would generally feel. 

You were head over heels in love with your boyfriend who, despite your huge age gap and his position in the company, had made it his priority to shower you with gifts and love. That this was considered ‘love bombing’ and ‘grooming’, you would only figure out later. Up until this day, you were still convinced your love for him was real. It just wasn’t your fault that you were an easy target. It was his fault that he had even approached you in the first place as a grown man ten years older than you.

It only took one time for the two stripes on the test to appear. His happiness wasn’t feigned, and neither was yours. Of course you would drop out of university and get married. Marrying into this family would mean to never have to work anymore anyway and only caring for your child and husband. The fact that this was all convenient for a man who couldn’t keep a woman his age and was under so much pressure from his family, you would only figure out later. 

It was a shotgun wedding, but of course that wasn’t what was written all over the news. To his family’s luck, you weren’t showing yet and from a reputable background, but you had to hurry up with the wedding nonetheless. You were anticipating this child so much, even though your family tried to sabotage your wedding. That was probably why you were so easy to get talked into cutting off all contact with the people related to you. They didn’t understand you. The fact that they only tried to warn and save you, you would only figure out much later.

You signed away your inheritance, because what was yours was his, and thus for your child and every future child as well, it sounded all logical. You felt loved and cared for unlike ever before. Why be with your unsupportive family when every love and warmth you could find with your husband’s family? Other people looked for love all their lifetime and were unsuccessful. You were lucky to have found the love of your life at an early age. 

The fact that the people who told you you were too young to marry were not jealous, but only caring, you would only figure out much later…

… when you were lying in your bed with cramps so bad, you thought you were going to die. Except that it was the child inside of you, who was almost due to be born, was the one dying.

There hadn’t been any signs. He had been healthy. Yet, somehow, his heart had stopped beating.

They took your baby out with a c-section, you had only held him in your arms once. Nobody had shown up to share this incredibly painful moment with you. 

This moment that had dragged you into a darkness which would take you years to break free from.

…

“Suddenly,” you continued, speaking to Jaehyun, “I wasn’t the beloved daughter-in-law anymore. I was a disgrace. If I cannot keep a baby, why bother about me? My body cannot function properly, it refuses to act according to nature. Nobody looked at me the same way anymore, not even my husband. While my mother-in-law confronted me with disgust and anger whenever we met, it was disappointment that was mirrored in my husband’s eyes. He wanted to try again, his mother wanted him to. They didn’t give me a moment to mourn my stillborn child.”

“Did he…?” Jaehyun started, unable to speak out the words, but you shook your head.

“She insulted him many times, but he never did anything against my will. We did genuinely try though, I didn’t want to give up on my marriage, but I think my body already had. Sometimes, I caught him lying to his mother that we were trying when we had long stopped. This, I’m grateful for. But it made her hate me even more, because I’m in the wrong as I cannot conceive according to her.”

“This is horrible…”

You stood there, side by side, looking at your baby’s grave. “Sometimes I think he knew what kind of life was awaiting him and chose to not join me. I would have been a horrible mother under these circumstances.”

“He?”

“My baby was a boy.”

“No.” Jaehyun shook his head and suddenly reached for your hand. He was holding it for a long time, before he eventually said, “You would have been the best mom, no matter the circumstances.”

“So why is my baby not with me now?” you sobbed. “Why did it leave me?”

This was a question you were asking yourself over and over again, ever since it had happened. Your therapist had advised you to let go of these thoughts and the guilt, finally breaking free from that darkness by moving on. But you just couldn’t and had stopped going to the sessions from then on. She hadn’t understood the depths of your pain either - or so you had thought.

“Maybe,” Jaehyun started and removed his hand from yours to put it on your shoulder and shift you around to him instead. “Your baby didn’t leave you. Maybe your baby just sensed it wasn’t the right time and is waiting to come back to you when you’re ready again. Then, you’ll see each other again.”

You cried even harder at this point, only slowly realizing that Jaehyun had his arms wrapped around you now, embracing you tightly. Somehow, you had missed someone like this throughout all the years of pain, someone who listened, who was willing to share your suffering, who made it all more durable. Someone who was finally seeing you and acknowledging the depths of your pain. 

Had your lawyer been this person all along and it was meant for you to only find him now when you were ready for it?

“I like that thought,” you brought out under tears. “That I will see my baby again.”

“And your baby will also see your family and friends. I will make sure of that.”

“Jaehyun…” He pressed your face against his chest and rested his chin on the top of your head, tenderly brushing over your hair.

“I still want to love you. With all your pain, all your scars. I still want to love you.”

This time, you believed him.

Even more so when you came back to the grave a few days later. You didn’t want to run away anymore. If you freed your pain and didn’t lock it away in an abandoned room, it would grow easier to be a part of your life. That was why you wanted to confront your darkness and pay visits to your baby’s grave more frequently.

… Only to find out that someone had been here shortly before you, leaving a bouquet of fresh lilies.

Jaehyun really wanted to love all of you, past and present.

____

“These are the finished documents.”

Your divorce file was thick. You were sitting at Jaehyun’s desk and were only skimming over the first few pages. Every single paragraph was dissected and laid out very carefully, in every little detail so that no word could be misunderstood. 

You didn’t know why you had failed to pay attention to this before, but Jaehyun was incredibly intelligent and determined. He must have worked almost restlessly on these papers and had really meant it when he had said to hurry up with.

“What’s going to happen now?” you asked, hesitant to hear the answer.

“I will send this file to your husband and he will probably consult his own lawyer. Which is legally his right, even if he agrees on everything. Depending on how much he or his family wants to change, it will take months to… years negotiating, going back and forth.”

Years… 

You had told Jaehyun to wait until you were a divorced woman. That much respect you still had for your husband, even though you had already taken off your wedding band. And truth to be told, you were still unsure about Jaehyun. It wasn’t a decision you could make overnight at such a state, you had only loved one man in your life so far. Your next choice had to be the right choice, and how could you have already figured out if he was the right choice?

You didn’t want to get married on and off, it wasn’t supposed to be that easy, so you had to be as sure as possible. But then again, you had been fooled once by the love of a man close to your possible future lover’s age. How was it possible you weren’t going to be alluded into a marriage by false promises and hopes again? You might be a bit older and wiser than back then, but did it also apply to your heart?

“This is the toughest part,” Jaehyun continued explaining. "Negotiating. But I will always be by your side, remember that, I will accompany you on every step.”

You wondered whether negotiating with your husband or resisting your lawyer would be harder for you to do in the future.

“Then I will probably need a place to stay during the entire process. I should move to a hotel first and then go from there.”

“There is no need,” Jaehyun dismissed and got up from his chair. “I have a place for you to stay.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s go.”

You took his car and he drove to a part of the city, far outside of the bustling center, which you hadn’t stepped foot in in years, even though it was close to your current neighborhood. This was where you had grown up, this was where you had spent the majority of your life. This was the area where your parents lived.

The car came to a stop right outside of your family’s house.

“Here we are.”

You turned your head away from the window, the sight of your childhood home causing tears to well up behind your eyes. “I’m not supposed to come here, Jaehyun.”

“Says who?”

“The contract.”

“The contract is bullshit,” he blatantly called out. “Who would have even controlled whether you came here? No one. You could have come here all the time without anyone noticing, you know that. You just… didn’t want to or couldn’t bring yourself to. Am I right?”

He had called you out, and you couldn’t close your ears from the truth much longer. He was right. No one had ever controlled you. Perhaps, they hadn’t had to as by your mother-in-law, you had always been too weak to go against the rules. When you had grown out of this phase though, it was long too late to make amends.

“In the beginning, my family and friends all tried to reach out to me. But whenever we talked, I only heard ‘You’re too young to marry, don’t do it!’, ‘Come home, you don’t need to stay there’, and much more. I dismissed their words, I thought they weren’t happy for me and didn’t understand me. So I eventually cut off any form of communication which was aided by my mother-in-law taking away my phone after catching me calling my mother once. They never knew I was pregnant, I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. I had a new family who would take care of me, I didn’t need them anymore. Until I was all alone at childbirth and knew I had made the wrong decision.”

“The more you tell me about your in-laws, the bigger my desire grows to unalive them with my bare hands.”

You nervously kneaded your fingers, your gaze fixed on the movements. “It was their form of manipulation, isolating me from everything and everyone that could change my mind and open my eyes to the truth. Eventually, my trauma had done the job. It also made me realize that I am the one to blame too. I could always reach out in other ways, but never did. With time, my guilt grew to such an extent that every form of reconnection would spiral me into much deeper guilt. So I gave up like they have given up on me. It was easier to think this way as I could never forgive myself for the things I’ve said and done.”

“But they’ve never given up on you.”

You shrugged. “You wouldn’t know.”

“Except that I do. Why else would we be here?”

Your head snapped up and you looked at Jaehyun, then outside of the window in the direction of your house where at the same moment, the entrance door opened, that much you could see over the high metal fence surrounding the garden.

“What…” You were lost for words.

“Like you will never stop loving your child, your parents will never stop loving you too, no matter how many irrational decisions you make, no matter how many cruel things you say to them. You will always have their love,” Jaehyun explained slowly so that you could process at the same time. “A few days ago, I looked for them, drove here and explained the situation. But I left out a few important parts as it is entirely your story to tell them. I think you will have a lot to talk about in the upcoming days. Look, they’re waiting for you already.”

It was at this moment that you realized that you had never experienced love in its purest form.

Until now. 

And you weren’t referring to your parents as that was another form of love, family love. You weren’t referring to your friends either as that was platonic love. You certainly weren't referring to your husband either as that had turned out to only be conventional love.

You were referring to Jaehyun going through lengths to reconnect you with your family along with many other things. You suddenly weren’t alone anymore. Life suddenly looked so bright and full of hope when you had someone to also share the happy moments with.

You weren’t alluded by false hopes and promises. He was a man of words and actions unlike anyone you had ever met before. And if this wasn’t true love, then what was? There was no guarantee, no glimpse into the future. There was only your heart following a path he shaped for you in the purest form possible, hoping that one day, you would return his feelings.

“Jaehyun, I-”

“Wait.” He cupped your face and smiled when you were facing each other. “It can wait. Go to your parents first. Take your time. Then, you can come to me and tell me everything you want to tell me, alright?”

“Thank you.” And these two words couldn’t even express the entirety of gratitude you felt towards him, among so many other things.

He gave you a kiss on your forehead, then watched you open the door, walking towards your parents.

____

Jaehyun wasn’t having a good day. 

In fact, he hadn’t had a good week altogether.

He was grumpy with his employees, sloppy with his files and overall not at the peak of his law-game. His assistant had to point out mistakes in the papers more than several times and was already overly annoyed before he said goodbye for the week, leaving Jaehyun alone in his office.

He missed you incredibly, and it was messing with his usually organized and cool head. Suddenly he caught himself by what he had been trying to avoid all along: emotions caused by love. 

Jaehyun had known what it was the moment you went to the bar together, hair flying carefreely around your heated cheeks. Back then, he had only wished to keep the smile on your face forever, it suited you so much better than the stern and calculated look. Having you wrapped in his arms, he had been awake for the majority of the night that followed, thinking about how he could protect you from a world this cruel, a world that had treated you so unfairly all your life, causing you all this pain that nobody should ever endure.

Jaehyun had never been afraid to love, but afraid to admit that he was secretly looking for a lifelong love too, just like everyone else. After all, he was proven every day by wives consulting him that true love was just a misconception and people were mere life partners that eventually parted ways to look for someone new. His job was to break love, not to create it. And now he was finding himself in exactly that state…

… head over heels in love with a woman he never wanted to let go again. A woman whose absence drove him crazy, because every minute he was parted from her felt like a lifetime. Jaehyun certainly had been in love in the past, but he had never gone through these extents for someone outside of his profession.

It made him question his choice of occupation nowadays. And ironically enough, this train of thoughts led him to your husband of whose lawyer he hadn’t heard anything at all. The divorce papers had certainly been delivered to him, but no one had reached out to him in return yet. He made it his mission to take care of this tomorrow.

From the corner of his eyes, Jaehyun saw his office door open and a person walking in, pulling him out of his thoughts. He was currently storing away some files and ready to head home as well. 

“We’re closed already, come back tomorrow and make an appointment with my secretary.”

“But I need an appointment right now, Mr. Jeong.”

Jaehyun’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest in happiness when he heard your voice and shifted around. But the woman in front of him didn’t have much in common with the woman who had intruded his office back then.

Instead of pant suits, pencil skirts and high heels, you were wearing a long flowy skirt, a matching blouse and flats. Your hair was falling loosely over your shoulders like the night in the bar, and Jaehyun was sure he had never seen you this beautiful and full of life before. And if it was possible, he loved you even more now.

He dropped the files on the desk and straightened his shoulders. “How was the time with your parents?” he asked, reluctant as to what to do next. He didn’t want to push you, even though there were a million other thoughts in his mind right now and none of them had anything to do with small talk.

“We talked a lot. We cried a lot together, too,” you summarized for him, and he noticed that even your way of speaking had changed. You sounded more confident, but instead of it stemming from your insecurities, it rooted from deep and dripped with sincerity. “It was good, taking a few days off to think about everything.”

“And to what conclusion did you come to?” Jaehyun didn’t know why this question made him so nervous.

A faint smile tugged on the corners of your lips. ”I came to the conclusion that time is too precious to be wasted, Jaehyun. I’ve lost so much time with my parents just because I was weak, and I won’t get it back, nor can I turn it back. I can only do the best with our remaining time from now on. But there is no way I will make this mistake of losing my time with someone I love again.”

Jaehyun took a deep breather, trying to keep his composure. “You wanted to wait until your divorce, until you were sure.”

“I know.” You paused. “But when I thought about what I would regret more… I just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you moving on, maybe with another woman. And it might be not in your book now, but how do we know what the future brings? I would only regret letting you go without even trying. I was never given a choice, but this, this is my choice. You gave me a choice. And I decided for this, I want this, Jaehyun.”

He cleared his throat and reached for his tie, loosening it a bit as he thought it currently cut off his breathing. “Do you know what you’re saying?” He took a stop towards you. “Be careful.”

You snickered - a tone that sounded like music in his ears - and took a step towards him as well. 

“Mr. Jeong, I’m willing to play dirty in private as well. Where do I sign?”

____

Jaehyun wiped his desk free with one hand. Documents, pens, his notebook and even a lamp dropped to the floor, but luckily did not shatter. You let out a gasp, first because you got startled by his impulsive action, and then because he had picked you up and sat you on the desk.

You almost physically felt the electrifying tension between your faces that had built up over the past few weeks, and as your lips came crashing down on each other, it was like sparks flew into every direction to finally celebrate the release of all this pent-up desire.

Jaehyun’s lips were warm and soft, and very demanding. His hands were holding onto your face, angling you up to him as though he wanted you whole, taste, scent and all. Never in your life had you been kissed with so much passion and longing, being claimed in a way a woman could dream of.

You had been intimate only with your husband before, and where lovemaking with him was quiet, lukewarm and quite trite, the onset of the very same act with Jaehyun pushed up too high of what was ever possible in your sole imagination. 

You were wild, fiery and loud. Oh, you could have never imagined to be that loud during the act. You threw your head back as Jaehyun kissed your neck, leaving wet trails where his lips passed. Letting out a moan, you spread your legs wider and pulled him close between your thighs. You chuckled silently when you felt him having grown so much already.

Goosebumps covered your legs as you felt him reaching under your skirt and pulling up the fabric. Jaehyun’s hands were roaming over your thighs, moving back and forth across your skin, and you simultaneously grew very hot in places you had long forgotten about. He tugged on the waistband of your panties, his fingers sliding between your folds and slowly rubbing there, causing you to catch your breath because of the intensity of the sensations.

Everything was going too slow for you now, and you wanted all of him all over you, inside of you. An inner voice was screaming desperately after him.

Suddenly, you halted.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asked, worried.

“I… I don’t know how this works anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“... this. Is it silly?”

You drew your brows together, expecting to be laughed at, but Jaehyun just smiled mildly and tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear. How could you have ever thought he’d make fun of you? He never had. 

“Nothing is silly. You were just so into it, what’s gotten into your mind?”

“I don’t know if I’m going to be… good. And I have… scars.”

You threw a meaningful gaze at him, hopeful he’d understand without many more explanations, and he did. You wouldn’t be his chosen woman if you weren’t still putting so many thoughts into one single action. 

“You still have problems to loosen up,” he concluded. “But don’t worry. If you trust me completely, it will all be fine and I will help you get your head free. So… do you trust me fully?”

It only took you a near-whispered “yes” before he swept you off the desk and carried you, with your thighs tightly wrapped around his waist, to his couch. Not even a minute later, you found yourself with your skirt all draped around your hips and your panties hanging loosely on one of your feet.

You didn’t see Jaehyun’s head anymore, only feeling his hair in a tight grip where your panties should have been, seeing stars dancing across the ceiling that you were currently facing while he ate you out like he had all the time in the world, sensually and delicately.

His tongue dragged along your folds that had long gotten wet the first time his mouth came close to your core. Gone were all your worries and doubts, there was no room to think about anything else than he way he was devouring you now, licking and sucking between your thighs until your eyes rolled back and his name fell from your lips like hurried prayers, interrupting his slurping sounds,

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun…”

You angled your knees as you felt something tightening inside your lower stomach that you couldn’t pinpoint. It had first started off as a small spark, but was now coiling into something bigger that tugged on every fiber of your body. You were quite sure the fact that Jaehyun sucked on your clit and simultaneously thrusted his fingers inside of you was responsible for this indescribable feeling, more so when he grabbed you by your bare cheeks with his hands and pressed you against his mouth even stronger. 

You had had orgasms before. At least that was what you had thought. They had come like a small wave, giving you a pleasant feeling and luring a silent sigh out of you, and that had been it. This orgasm right now though was on a whole other level. 

Your whole body tensed up as though trying to protect itself from what was about to come, but no resistance in the world could withstand the persistence of the man who loved you to make you feel good. The coiled up sensation exploded inside of you the moment you thought you were going to die from endless pleasure, and then spread not only into your body, but also mind. 

There was no control over how your body reacted, you held onto Jaehyun’s head like a lifeline with your head lolled back, and screamed his name as though in need for help, your body leaking fluids in places you would have been originally embarrassed for, but Jaehyun loved it, every single reaction he was able to lure out of you.

Underneath him didn’t lie the uptight, suppressed woman anymore, in pantsuits and with no hair out of place. It was a new woman he had now unraveled, with wild hair, heated cheeks, liberated and eager to explore worlds she had never set foot into before. And he would guide her all the way into his world.

With a grin, Jaehyun wiped over his smudged mouth while you were still trying to catch your breath, but eventually returned his expression, ready for more. His fingers were trembling a bit when he first got rid of your skirt and then unbuttoned your flowy blouse. 

A flash of concern ran through your face in the blink of a moment when he undid the last button, but he understood. He helped you out of the garment, and when you eventually laid back again in front of him, bare-chested and naked from head to toe, he saw.

Jaehyun left no room for you to mistrust him though. Undressing himself from head to toe first, he then kneeled in front of you on the cushion and leaned in. With warm fingers, he reached out to your lower abdomen and then gently touched the spot of which you had been so afraid to let him see. 

But the c-section-scar was a part of you and Jaehyun loved every single bit. “You’re so beautiful,” he let out, and you believed every single syllable.

He had you tightly embraced with your legs around his waist when he slowly but deliberately pushed into you. At first, it hurt quite a bit, because you hadn’t had been this intimate in so long, but when it showed on your face with a frown, Jaehyun paused and made sure you still truly wanted this with soft kisses on your temple and mouth, so that the tightness vanished almost right away.

He was settled inside of you, thick, full, and pulsing, and even though this was so much for you to take already, you wanted him to move, needed him to move. When he didn’t instantly do so though, you nearly embarrassingly pushed up against him and tried to get a tiny bit of gratification by yourself.

Jaehyun laughed lowly and kind of threateningly. “Take deep breaths first, because you are in for a long ride.”

You winced when he pulled out and only let his tip remain, because you feared he would stop right here, but then met him with a breathless gasp when he slammed back into you full force. It cost you all the air in your lungs, but you needed him to do it again as well, because it had hit a spot you had always been convinced had never existed for you in the first place.

But it did. And Jaehyun penetrated it with every thrust that he alternated between fast and shallow and slow and deep. The couch’s cushion got wet and sticky under you, and your screams only grew louder too, but you didn’t mind and didn’t care, especially not when he suddenly flipped you over and you were sitting on him, having him sheathed deep inside your core.

“You’re so beautiful”, Jaehyun repeated. He stretched out his hand and curled a lock of your hair between his fingers that he then slid down along your breast, scar and let it eventually rest on your hip. “Ride me,” he then pleaded, “ride me, please.”

Despite the fact that you had never done that before, the motions came to you naturally with the guidance of his grip around your waist. It felt good for you to decide how deep and in which angle you wanted to have him, and as you were sliding along him, you felt another orgasm nearing that you unfortunately failed to chase.

“Out of breath?” Jaehyun asked, lids heavy after enjoying this sight too much.

“I want to cum again,” you confessed, “but somehow…”

Jaehyun returned to his former position, but this time, placed either of your legs across his left and right shoulder. You didn’t know what else he was doing, but when he filled you all up from the inside again, you were feeling him so deeply and intensely like never before. 

The second orgasm for this day found its root not in the pit of your stomach, but feeded on every inch of your body, so that it was an experience that left you shaking with all limbs, Jaehyun following along in long spurts across your stomach. 

“I’ve never imagined sex to be like this,” you admitted when you laid in his arms shortly later, a thin blanket draped over you. The office had long closed. 

“Like what?” Jaehyun asked and kissed your temple.

“So good.”

He laughed and pulled you closer to him. “That was not even my best performance yet, trust me.”

You opened your mouth in wonder. “You can do it even better? I can hardly believe it.”

“You want to try?” he challenged. “Don’t worry, we have all the time in the world to try out everything you want.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “All the time in the world, for sure. But maybe we can still start with it tonight. You never know-”

You didn’t have to call out to him twice before he disappeared under the blanket.

____

“I must say, I’m impressed. I didn’t expect this from you.”

The photos landed in front of your feet.

They showed everything.

Jaehyun and you entering your home dressed all in black, Jaehyun and you leaving the bar together, Jaehyun and you in the car in front of your parents’ house, Jaehyun and you coming out of his office at different occasions. There were even photos from yesterday after you both had…

You stood in the living room, petrified, not even your eyes were able to move to look directly at the person that was approaching you.

“You must wonder how much truth someone can spill when you just offer them more bribery money than the original party,” your mother-in-law said. “Needless to say, the security guard no longer needs his job here after providing me with the respective videos. And the rest was the dedicated work of my private detective. I sensed that something was off and hired him shortly after reading the police report on the seeming robbery.”

When you eventually lifted up your head, she stood there, looking at you with much disgust. It was at that moment that you realized you lost. She was holding the divorce papers in her hands. They had never reached your husband first, but had directly landed in her hands instead. 

“I don’t care,” you sighed deeply. “I don’t care anymore. I will sign anything, I am willing to lose everything. Just… let me go. Please, just let me go.”

You didn’t want the money, you didn’t need it. Money would come back, but time didn’t, and every bit of energy you still invested in this family felt like you were losing a bit of your lifespan. You just wanted to leave and live a life dedicated to your loved ones from now on. 

“Fine.” You halted, waiting for her to continue as you could almost not believe what she had just said. It couldn’t be so easy. “I am willing to let you out of this marriage, under one condition.”

Of course there would be. “What?”

“I’ve dedicated my entire life to keeping this family together,” she elaborated, “and my hard work paid off when I married off my first son well, making him the CEO of the conglomerate at the same time. My second one… well, he was always a little too spoiled and never under as much pressure as his older brother. But I let it pass, because as long as our reputation didn’t get stained, I wouldn’t look at it twice. I now wish I had as he only grew foolish and reckless. How else would he have gotten the idea of falling in love and getting an almost teenager pregnant out of wedlock?”

“This fact, we can agree on. But it was your fault that he grew up the way he is now,” you stated in defense. “He has never learned to deal with emotions, and whenever problems occurred, you were there to clean it all up regardless of the people getting hurt along the way. It was partially your family’s responsibility to make sure I was taken care of accordingly. The moment we married, I was your responsibility, too.”

Your mother-in-law screwed up her nose. “I did take care of these things my way.”

“And they were wrong!” you raised your voice, hoping that somehow, you could still speak some sense into her. “You pressured me to sign a contract of which its repercussions I could not have known at that time yet. It was my right to consult a lawyer, but I was never given a choice just like your son has never been given a choice. I was only nineteen and stripped of all my future!”

“A child out of wedlock would have destroyed everything I’ve worked so hard for,” she pressed through her gritted teeth, reluctant to admit this. “I did it all to protect my family!”

You shook your head. “And look at that family now. Was it all worth it? Was it worth the life you’re living right now?”

She didn’t know the answer to that apparently. “If you had only borne that child like my son wanted so desperately too, the problems would have all dissolved themselves. I would have endured you. Maybe you could have been a happy little family after all. But even for that, you were too weak.”

It stung. The insults pierced right through your heart, but you remembered Jaehyun’s words, and only grew from there. “No, we wouldn’t have been. I would have taken the child and filed for a divorce nonetheless, I know that now.”

“You ungrateful brat!” the elderly woman suddenly yelled. “Do you know how many girls out there would trade places with you? You’ve gotten everything someone could ever ask for, and for you it’s not enough!”

“Because there is more to this world than money and reputation!” you screamed back. “It’s not my fault you have failed to see it while you still had a choice, too!”

You were never able to forgive her, that much was true. But somewhere under her hard facade, you were sure, was hiding a young woman who had once dreamed big too. A young woman your age, who had dreamed of the love of her life and her own business. A young woman, who had been robbed of these dreams way too early and had never been given a choice either.

But that young woman had failed to escape as long as she still was able to, and got replaced by a monster that couldn’t figure its way out anymore, too entangled in a vicious circle that got passed on from generation to generation.

You wanted to break the circle and make your own choices. Perhaps, if you hadn’t gone through the past two years, you wouldn’t have had enough courage to feel like this now. Perhaps, if you hadn’t gone through the past two years, you would have turned out like her.

The trauma had made you weak, but also much stronger at the same time. You still didn’t understand, but in some way, you were grateful.

And the fact that you were now able to walk away was the reason you would always and forever remain superior to your mother-in-law.

“You must really love that lawyer of yours,” she eventually broke through your thoughts. “I just wonder how far you are willing to go for him to fulfill your condition?”

____

“Did you get your important papers?” Jaehyun happily greeted you when he opened the door to his office. “You’re back so early, is everything okay?”

The moment you hurried in his direction, he immediately knew that something was wrong. He put his index finger under your chin and angled up your head. The way your entire world shattered when he forced you to hold your gaze indicated that nothing would ever be okay again. 

“You have to leave, Jaehyun,” you insisted and grabbed onto his arms. “Right now.”

He didn’t ask any questions, but trusted you fully on that. “Okay, let me just get my-”

“No.” You shook your head. “The country. You have to leave the country immediately.”

Now, he was stunned. “I don’t understand.”

“My mother-in-law knows everything,” you uttered with a trembling voice. You told him about all the bribery and the detective, and eventually about her ultimatum. “She has collected a record of illegal activities reported against you, and she will go to the police with all of it to file a charge of your criminal activities. They have connections there, Jaehyun. She promised me if she wants, she will get you in jail. Is it true? Everything on the list?”

You recited a few bullet points you had been able to remember in a whim the short moment she was holding the paper in front of you. You directly saw it in his eyes, that fact that everything was as bad as it sounded. Robbery, data corruption, forgery, lying in front of the court… you named it.

“Oh god…” You needed a moment and sat down on the couch. “Jaehyun, she can really put you in jail!”

“Then I’ll leave the country!” he instantly caved. “We can live in New York or LA instead. I’ll book the next flight, we don’t need anything. We will just start anew.”

But by your expression alone, he understood that this was only wishful, silly thinking. Only one of you could be free, and you weren’t willing to trade his freedom for yours. He had always been free, you had always been caged. You didn’t rob the person you loved of their freedom like your husband had done.

“No… Don’t make that face. You’re not gonna stay married to him.”

“Jaehyun…”

He sank on his knees in front of you, taking your hands into his. “Then I will go to jail if it means you can get divorced to your advantage. How many years can I get anyway? I did many things wrong in the past and I don’t want to be this kind of person anymore. I will legally atone for my crimes. If it means that you’re going to be free and live a happy life, then I am willing to do so.”

“I won’t ever be able to live a happy life if it is without you. I don’t care about my money or my business anymore, Jaehyun. It will all come back, I still have time for this stuff. None of these matter now. What I care about is you. I won’t allow them to take you away from me. They took so much from me already. I can’t lose you too and rip you of your future and prospects like they did with me. It’s not worth it.”

“But I’m worth it?” he asked breathlessly. “How do you know? How do you know you won’t regret everything again?”

You wrapped your fingers around his neck and pulled him nearer to you. “Because you were willing to understand my pain and connect to my past. Because you left flowers on my baby’s grave and reunited me with my family. Because without you, I wouldn’t have had the courage to do all this. Nobody has ever gone through such lengths for me. If this is not true love, then I don’t want to live in a world this deluded.” You pressed your forehead against his. “And because I truly love you too, Jaehyun, I am willing to sacrifice this all.”

He reluctantly added, “There is another way out… There must be.”

There was a hint of a faint smile on your face. “There is not.”

“There is always!” he opposed, almost desperately.

Jaehyun sank onto the cushion next to you and buried his face in his palms. Was that what defeat felt like? He had expected it to hit him hard and knock him off his feet like a wave. Instead, defeat felt like drowning. Slow, torturous drowning.

“Perhaps, but not now, not for us. If only we had been given a bit more time… But I was selfish and pushed too far, and if you don’t leave the country now, you will go to jail. And if I leave with you, then all my beloved ones will pay the price, too. The damage would be more collateral. I cannot allow this to happen, so I will stay.”

“Promise me you won’t stop fighting.” He looked at you through heavy-lidded eyes. “That you will still fight for your freedom with every help you can get. Promise me you will never give up.”

You were trying so hard to keep your composure, but ultimately all your walls broke and you were crying hot tears in Jaehyun’s arms. He held you tightly for what might be the last time ever as you repeated,

“I will keep fighting.”

____

Jaehyun had made a decision. 

For that decision, he was currently collecting every tiny piece of evidence possible from his entire career as a divorce attorney. 

He had always been very structured, detailed and thorough with his records, which was why it didn’t take him long to find stuff that would be enough to lock him up for years. And he kept digging so as to not leave room for the police to find more than he would hand over. If he came clear with everything and turned himself in, punishment wouldn’t be so hard and he could see you again in a few years time. 

You didn’t want this, he knew, but in a hopeless situation, this was the scenario that was the most hopeful.

Ironically, Jaehyun thought to himself, he had never been a person full of hope before meeting you.

“Can I come in?”

A monotonous male voice interrupted him, and he absent-mindedly answered, “I’m busy and we’re already out of the office hours. Come back tomorrow.”

“I just assumed you might want to read through these papers right now, checking whether I signed everything right.”

Jaehyun had never heard your husband’s voice in real life before, but now that he had and looked up from his desk, he found it really matched his face. It was dull and boring, even though he was a conventionally good-looking, well groomed man in his early thirties - that much he was able to judge objectively considering he hated him to the core.

“I don’t know whether you’re stupid or brave coming here,” Jaehyun said coldly. “I’ll just freely assume it’s both.”

Mr. Kang let a bag, that Jaehyun only noticed now, drop on the floor, not reacting to his taunt at all. By your stories alone, he already got the impression that your husband wasn’t a man of many words… or emotions and expression at all. 

“Inside here are a few clothes, her documents, ID and passport. She wanted to get these this morning, right? And here are the signed divorce papers.” He dropped the staple on Jaehyun’s desk. “I’ve already consulted my lawyer. Whatever she’s asking for, she will get. I will agree on everything.”

Jaehyun drew the paper across the surface closer to him. He turned a few pages and realized that no alterations had been made so far. And Mr. Kang’s signature was right there as well.

“Where did you get this?”

“What my mother has gotten into her hands was a mere copy. The original documents had been handed over to me by the messenger the same day you had sent them out. I apologize that it took me so long. It was a decision easily made, but not easy to get through with my family. But my brother was very supportive and still is. My mother on the other hand, not so much when she will find out tomorrow. I’ll deal with it.”

Jaehyun closed the documents again and heaved up his head. “So… that’s all?”

“No.” Mr. Kang quietly shook his head, continuing with his initial monotonous tone, “I cannot prevent her from filing a police report against you, and knowing her, she will directly do so first thing in the morning when I confront her with the facts. That’s why you have to make haste and leave the country. Here.” He placed a very obvious plane ticket on the desk that was booked under Jaehyun’s name, dated for today still.

It was not the first time Jaehyun was hearing these words, yet he stood by his decision. “I won’t leave like a coward. I will cooperate and get the punishment I deserve.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Mr. Kang said, a little more emotion in his voice now. “Do you think when you get released, it will all be over? It’s only going to start from then on. You will not only lose your practice license, but everyone dear to you too. You will never have a day of peace, and therefore, she won’t either. You don’t want that life for her.”

Again, Jaehyun felt hopelessness choking him. He was willing to suffer the rest of his life for all of his wrongdoings if he must. He just didn’t want to drag you down with him. “What should I do?”

“Go far, far away from here. Don’t leave any trace and wait until the divorce is finalized until you let her come to you. I guess you have partners or assistants that can take over the legal parts for you in your firm. Anyway, I will make sure we will push through with the contract that you have set up.”

Jaehyun knew this was the silver lining in a near desperate situation. “Can I still tell her goodbye?”

“If you want to ever see her again, then you must leave right now. The plane departs at midnight.”

“How do I know I can trust your words?”

“Indeed, there is no way you can. But you don't have a choice.”

“Can I at least trust you to make sure she will be alright until she can come to me?”

“Yes,” Mr. Kang confirmed, and for the first time, Jaehyun could make out a clear expression etched into his face. Relief? “After all, I have given her a promise at our wedding. I will keep her safe until it’s all over. You’re not the only one, I want to atone for all my mistakes too. I just want you to know that I have truly loved her. I just wasn’t capable of showing up when I was needed. So I’m happy for her that someone is now.”

“I think this is something you have to tell her in person yourself. And many more things, probably.”

Mr. Kang nodded. 

It was not Jaehyun’s place to judge other people’s relationships. What you had truly felt for each other at one point in your lives, it was up to you both to make out with yourselves - or not. Jaehyun just didn’t want you to hurt any longer. Everything else was irrelevant to him.

“Don’t expect a thank you, Mr. Kang.”

“I’m not. I’m not expecting anything from you, Mr. Jeong.”

Jaehyun hurriedly grabbed the most important documents from his desk and the shelves all while preparing to drop by at his home real quick to pick up his passport. “Can you tell her something from me? Or not… whatever you want to do.” He had seldomly felt so at a loss for the right words. “If you are willing to pass on my message though… She will arrive here soon and I need to be gone by then... Tell her to not come and say goodbye. I will contact her when it’s safe. I hope it won’t take long.”

“This, I will do,” he confirmed. “For her.”

____

Jaehyun had only packed a small bag with a few clothing pieces, some cash and important documents, nothing more. The papers he was taking with him included a specific file that gave him access to a secret bank account in another country into which he had booked different amounts of money any time he won a case. It wasn’t as much as his real asset, but it came close and was definitely enough to start anew somewhere else. 

“Do you carry any liquids in your bag, sir?”

Jaehyun shook his head. He had already put his bag and jacket on the tray, patting his pockets one last time to look for remaining items he still had to get rid of before passing the security.

“Jaehyun!”

Brushing it off as an intrusive thought, he continued with his motions, until he heard again, this time from a clearly familiar voice,

“JEONG JAEHYUN! HOW DARE YOU!”

When he turned around, he caught you verbally fighting with the employees who checked the board pass before passengers moved on to the security. “Let me go, I have to talk to that person!”

“You need a ticket to pass through here, ma’am,” one of them carefully explained to you, flinching any time you made a move as he surely couldn’t estimate your outburst.

“Fine! Then I’ll buy one! Hurry up!”

“To buy a ticket, you have to go the counter and-”

“I don’t have time for that. Jaehyun!”

He didn’t have enough time to process everything of the scenario that was now unfolding in his sight. You really dared to push one employee aside who then stumbled into the other one’s arms. And before they could catch onto what was currently happening to them, you had already dropped your purse, gripped the railing with two hands and just jumped over the barricade like it was nothing. 

In the background, Jaehyun perceived how the employees slowly caught onto the happenings after the initial shock and apparently called for backup with their walkie-talkies. Luckily, the TSA hadn’t caught wind of your unruly behavior yet as both sections were partially separated by walls, so Jaehyun left everything on the tray behind and ran towards you as you were doing the same. 

Quickly, he grabbed your hand and dragged you to one corner of the hall, right between these two airport sections, where it would take either party the longest time to arrive.

“Why are you here?” Jaehyun asked, nearly out of breath when you came to a standstill. “You’re supposed to pick up your bag from my office and go to your parents’ house!”

“I know but I couldn’t!” You squeezed his hand. “You were really going to leave without giving me a chance to say goodbye? How dare you!”

“I’m sorry, I just…” Only when he was at the check-in, it had dawned on him that he had made the wrong decision. Even if your husband had warned him, he should have taken that risk. That much, you owed the person you loved. “I’m just not good at saying goodbye. I didn’t know what to say… even now, I don’t know.”

“Please don’t do this! Don’t strip me of my choice! Not you too!”

Jaehuyn shook his head and cupped your face. “I would never do that! I would have called or texted you right when I arrived. Even if it was risky. I just cannot bear… yeah, this. I didn’t want to see you cry again. This time it’s my fault.”

With his thumbs, he brushed over your cheeks, wiping away your tears. From the corners of his eyes, he already saw the fetched security arriving at the section, looking in your direction. There was not much time left anymore.

“This is my choice,” you said under tears. “You are my choice. And if you don’t come back, Jaehyun, I will fly over there myself, are we in the clear?”

He chuckled and you cracked a faint smile as well. “I believe you. I don’t think we need a contract for that. It may take a bit of time… so will you wait for me?”

“I will always wait for you. That’s what I said, right? I will wait for my true love, no matter how much time it takes. Just please, if you can, don’t take too long.”

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you and pressed you against his chest. The security was already approaching you, but they weren’t running, possibly because they had already sensed there was no danger radiating from you. Just two people in love who needed to say one last goodbye to each other.

“I’ll hurry up,” he muttered into your hair and placed a kiss on your parting. “In the meantime, go back to university, get your degree and work hard for your business, but don’t forget to live your life, too. I want to return in time for your graduation ceremony.”

“Jaehyun…” You looked up to him with big, tear-filled eyes. “Then I will work hard so that it won’t take long.”

Eventually, the security reached them. “Ma’am, we have to kindly ask you to leave.” 

Jaehyun let go of you before the two security men would drag you away from him themselves, and you unwillingly let him. “I promise I’ll be there!”

“I rely on your word!” you were still able to say before following the security out. “I love you!”

“I love you too.”

____

Police investigations started shortly after Jaehyun landed in the US. They were looking for him the next two years, and you had to stay apart for just as long.

He missed the moment you finalized your divorce after a year.

He missed the moment you re-entered university that same year.

He missed the moment you graduated with your degree a year later.

He missed every single important moment in your life.

____

‘GRAND OPENING’

was written on the fancy border that hung over the entrance door to your small shop. 

You hadn’t expected for five people to already show up at the opening hour sharp, but you were well prepared and handed them a glass of champagne each. You walked them around, presenting to them a few of your hand-picked pieces.

There were gowns with reserved, classic cuts, more elaborate gowns with a lot of tulle, short skirts, long sleeved dresses, tight and wide dresses, and a broad selection of accessories like veils and gloves in addition.

“My heart lies within this shop,” you explained to the group of women. “I want to gather as many different styles as possible to suit everyone’s preferences. After all, it’s going to be the happiest day of your life, and you shouldn’t only look beautiful, but also feel comfortable. Whatever you want to add or alternate on your overall look, me and my team will accommodate that. Please feel free to look around and call for me if you need my assistance.”

You moved behind the counter and looked excitedly at your first possible customers, being happy to share this day with the people special to you too as later on, your family and friends would pay you a visit for the official opening party. 

There was always one person missing though, and whenever you thought of it, your heart got so heavy.

The opening of your own bridal shop was another milestone in your life that Jaehyun was missing. Even though two months ago it was announced that the Aewha Group had gone bankrupt because of a tax fraud having been committed over the years, he had still deemed it unsafe to return and wanted to wait a bit more. 

You wondered why and slowly grew impatient as the police had already stopped pushing the case forward because of the lack of evidence as almost no one wanted to testify against him. Since the Aewha Group was now down as well and the owners had a fair share of other, graver problems to deal with, you had proposed to him to come pay you a visit.

“It’s too dangerous,” Jaehyun had said.

“Then I’ll come!” 

Again, he had said, “You don’t have to. Soon, I can return.”

But when was ‘soon’ anyway as he’d been saying it for a year already?

In secret, you had already bought a plane ticket to California for next month. Two years had already passed in which you couldn’t see each other, and if it continued, then you would be the one to go to jail for other reasons, you knew that, and those reasons included kidnapping the man you loved.

After an entire day of working where you had been successful to make fitting appointments with three bridal groups, it was time for the opening party. You saw your parents, grandparents, friends and other acquaintances, not only from the past, but also from the last two years, walk into your shop, gazing at the garments and celebrating with you.

There were beverages and snacks being served, everyone was dressed up and music was playing in the background. It was a gathering among the people close to you to celebrate the success you had been working so hard for the past two years.

You knew that, if you hadn’t met a certain person, you wouldn’t be standing here right now, giving a speech to your loved ones. But after all the trauma and pain, you were here, bright and successful with a future just as promising.

You just wished the person you were the most grateful for could have joined as well.

“Thank you so much for coming and celebrating with me. Please enjoy tonight,” you ended your speech.

“There is something I have to say too,” someone said in the background, and the hair on your neck suddenly stood up. “Actually, there is so much I have to say, but I will try to keep it short.”

Only after a few seconds, you were able to break through the petrification. From the corner of your peripheral, you saw your friends giggling and your parents looking at you lovingly. Before you met his gaze eventually, tears already started to burn on the rim of your eyes. 

You felt his warm hand on your naked arm, his fingers slowly sliding down to intertwine with yours. It had been so long since you had last seen each other in person, but as you now stood in front of Jaehyun, it felt like no time had passed at all.

He was just as handsome and well built as two years ago. If anything, he looked even better. Maturity suited him so well. He was smiling at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mirror his expression with the same intensity, because different emotions washed over you all at once, so that you didn’t know how to feel at first.

You wanted to get angry at him and yell at him why it had taken him so long.

You wanted to wrap your arms around his neck and have him hold you tightly.

You wanted to kiss him deeply and get undressed to feel every inch of him.

In the end, you didn’t do anything but start crying. It was all just too much.

“Why are you here?” you asked, still believing it was all not real.

You felt him squeezing your fingers. “I just couldn’t miss another milestone of yours.”

“Why did it take you so long?”

“There were a few things I needed to sort out before I could return. Finding someone to take over my law office, for example. Just the formals.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, you idiot? I bought a ticket for next month!”

He threw his head back and laughed. “That’s what I sensed and came here as fast as possible.”

“How long are you going to stay?” you sniffed.

“This time, I hope forever.” You saw him move in your blurry vision and blinked through your tears. Or better say, you saw it blinking in front of your eyes as he was holding a ring in front of you. “If you let me be your husband, of course. So… will you? Will you accept me as your husband?”

You pouted. “Where are we going to live?”

“Here, of course.”

“And you’re not on the run anymore?”

“I will only do stuff according to ethics, morals and the law.”

“Can I plan the wedding myself?”

At this point, you were only teasing him, but after what he had put you through, he let you. “You can do whatever you want, I will say yes to everything my wife says.”

“Very well.” You paused. “Under one condition.”

“Hm?”

Then, you broke into a wide smile. Those tears on your face had always only been happy tears. “We will never set up a prenup.”

“Of course,” Jaehyun agreed. “Because we will never get divorced anyway.”

Then, you finally fell into his arms and kissed him deeply. It was like two missing pieces coming together, a surge of complete bliss streaming through your bodies the moment your lips met. This, this was it. This was what it must feel like to finally be with your true love. You never wanted to be apart again. 

The ring looked beautiful on your finger, and as you both turned around to show it to your guests, you saw in their reactions that they had been let in on the planned happenings of this night quite a while ago. 

Your opening party had magically turned into your engagement party.

[i-starcreamed]

HIHIHI!!! I’ve been looking for D-16/Megatron fics for like a while now, (watched it on early release) and have been SUFFERING cuz there’s nothing out for him.. 😭 But then I came onto tumblr and found ur posts!!! They’ve been such HUGE comfort despite both being angst.. LOL

umum onto my ask… I was hoping to ask for a D-16/Megatron fanfic with him having an immensely huge soft spot for the reader… Practically listening and obeying their every word like it’s the last he’d hear of them.. In more specifics, I mean like D-16 (beginning) can be quite unfazed by most stuff, just being normal about other mechs and yet almost melts completely to what the reader has to say and pays attention to their every move.. Megatron on the other hand is basically the same too, despite changing and being completely different.. (the reader is basically like his second in command since he trusts them so much and they’re on his side)

D-16 / MEGATRON X READER

haii tysm :3 I tried to make this soo soft, enjoy. Also I wrote this originally while I was half asleep and the spelling was HORRIBLE idk how I was able to translate this

[ cybertronian!reader Fluff mostly, D-16 being a little angel. Orion third wheeling

As D-16, he was always by your side. You met in the mines, of course, and became friends rather quickly. You knew him as a bot who didn’t care much about others—not in a selfish way, but more in a “I’m just here to do my job” kind of way. He followed the rules, focused on the hope that one day, Sentinel would recognize his efforts and free him from the mines...all of them. He dreamed that one day, Sentinel would see their efforts and let them be among the city dwellers. If only he were created with a cog.

It came as a surprise to everyone when you two started dating, no one expected him to be the type, to be honest. In the mines, he always makes sure Orion and you are being safe. But you, specifically? He was borderline overprotective.

Then one day, the mine was caving in, but you needed just a littttle more energon to meet the day’s requirements. You were never one to not complete your daily tasks. You frantically tried to collect all the raw energon nearest to you...while the tunnel began closing in.

“Y/N, what are you doing?! Come on!” His voice strained with panic, his servo gripping your arm.

You hummed in frustration, keeping your optics on the collapsing tunnel behind you, “Hold on, just one more...I need this o-one piece..” You grit your denta as you stretched for one more chunk of rock.

You were out of time. D-16, realizing the danger, wasn’t about to let you risk it. He knew you'd get pissed about it but oh well...without a second thought, he pulled you away by your arm as his jetpack powered on. You yelped as he tossed you over his shoulder, successfully flying you out of there. Just in time actually.

When he finally set you down on your two pedes, you glanced at your cradled servos.

One single rock of raw energon.

You almost pouted.

“Dee.. this is not enough.” You mumbled, letting the rock fall from your servos.

Much to your surprise, D shook his helm.

“Hey, don’t worry about that. Look, you know what’s important?” He placed his servos on your shoulders, looking deep into your optics with such warmth that made your spark flutter “What’s important.. is that you’re okay.” He gently added, planting a small kiss to your helm.

You grinned. You thought he was so sweet, until he gently nudged your arm.

“Be thankful I saved your aft. Darkwing is probably going to give us an extra-long shift tomorrow,” He teased.

You rolled your optics. “Yeah, to make up for all the energon you made me drop.”

He shrugged, grinning. “I’d rather work a few more hours than lose you, sweet spark. I have my priorities.” He murmured, holding you close. You had the sweetest partner, you knew he wasn’t like this with anyone else.

Another thing about D is that he’s so attentive. You can talking about anything and he’ll be there, his optics never leaving your face. Maybe glancing to your lips, but that’s it. He thinks you look so great when you’re passionately talking about something. Whether you were sharing a tip or telling a story, he hung on your every word, asking questions, eager to listen. If you’re a little gremlin like Orión and enjoy sneaking around, he’s right behind you.

Insert the THREE of you--caught, waiting to possibly be yelled at by superiors.

It had all started because you wanted to explore an abandoned building and got busted in the act.

Orion coughs awkwardly. “Soo… how far down do you think they’ll send us?”

You nervously fiddled with D’s digits. “At least three levels lower.” You murmúred.

D was silent, watching your servo interlock with his. The room was quiet until he felt a pair of optics on him. He glanced up to see Orion staring. “What?”

“Oh nothing, nothing. Just watching how you never get upset at Y/N when we get caught but when it’s me, I get the five-minute silent treatment.”

“But it wasn’t Y/N's fault.”

“Yeah, Orion, I’m completely innocent. You're just jealous.” You chimed in, grinning.

“Wh-Innocent?! You insisted on staying, even when we heard guards coming towards us. Right, D??"

D hummed thoughtfully. "I think they’re pretty innocent. Accidents happen.” He shrugged, giving you a sweet grin.

“Oh, Primus…” Orion groaned.

Now let’s move onto Megatron.

He was so, so delighted to hear that you wanted to join his side in the end. You thought he loved and was obsessed with you before? He’s even worse now.

He made you his right-hand, his advisor, his confidant, his fiercest warrior—his everything. Whenever he rallied his army, promising to fix Cybertron his way, he would raise his fist as a symbol of his leadership. And yet, even in that powerful gesture, your servo was grasped in his.

He held your servo up alongside his, he was ecstatic. Sure, you might not be as..mad as he was, but you supported him, even kept him in check when necessary. If you two are the same, well you add onto each others crazy :3 (explodes)

[exocaliii]

❦︎ You've Been Walking, You've Been Hiding

(pt. 1) (pt. 2)

| Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader |

side! | Se-mi / Played 380 x fem!reader |

Summary: For six years, you've watched your best friend and only companion mourn a child she barely got to know. Now, you're given a chance to finally rid her of this lifelong guilt.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: mentions of self harm, death, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, occasional use of Y/N even though I try my best to avoid it lol, some jealousy and yearning, very plot heavy guys no porn this time...

A/N: first fic yay!! it's incredibly plot heavy (like seriously look at the word count man I haven't even reached the Mingle game yet😭😭) and tbh i've already written most of pt 2 (which dives far more into the romance part), but please please lmk what you think so far!! :D seriously any comments or messages or whatever are appreciated!! this is the "I wrote this cuz no one else did" fic

—

It’s been nine years since you've met her, and she’s still the most beautiful woman you know.

Her head is tilted back, shallow breaths filling the silence. You don’t make a move until you see tears flow down her cheeks, and by the time she raises an arm to cover her face, you’re already by her side. There are no words or even glances shared as you use the sleeve of your jacket to wipe the tears off her cheek. Though, for a split second as your hand lowers, you swear you see her head tilt in your direction, and maybe you’re hallucinating it (god knows what could happen after two bottles of whatever hard liquor that was) but your eyes meet for a brief second.

It’s a bit too much for you, and you need this night to end. Besides, you had someone to meet. She knows that.

“It’s late, Eul.”

It’s an unspoken suggestion for her to drive you home, but she doesn’t move - just looks over at you with a heated gaze and that’s all it takes. Whatever emotion she was trying to express is unknown to you, but it’s familiar in a way that deeply disturbs you. You’re the last person she should be looking at like that.

“...Alright then,” you whisper, placing your head on her shoulder. She doesn’t react, but she doesn’t move to push you off either. You should leave. You both know this.

God, you’re pathetic.

—

250 million won.

Fucking scammers. Who could even pay that much?

Your meeting with the head of some shady smuggling group based in North Korea went… alright. They were willing to help, but less optimistic than the last. What really went wrong was the price they were charging to help search for No-eul’s baby. Even if you worked your current job for 16 hours a day for an entire year straight, you wouldn’t have enough.

The thought of seeing her hope dwindling once again made you want to pull your hair out.

Perhaps it was this heartache that made you call the number on that card.

—

She’s known about the games for six years.

She signed up to kill people every summer for five years.

Today is the first day she’s genuinely, completely thrown off guard.

When she twists the scope of her rifle, she almost accidentally fires a bullet straight into your face with a twitch of her hand. Even after leaning back and rubbing her face in exasperation at her own mind supposedly playing tricks on her, she leans back into the familiar pad of the rifle to see your face once again. You look the same as the last time she saw you, which was barely two days ago. The strain in your face, the fear that twists your expression into one she recognizes from seven years ago - God, what the fuck did you get yourself into?

She lets out a shaky breath and readjusts her grip, her nerves making her hands quiver just enough that she has to lean back again to roll her head to relieve some of the newfound tension in her neck. When she finally lays her cheek back against the rifle, she’s quick to refocus her attention to another player, one that 012 (or was it 010?) failed to kill. It’s a disgusting ordeal, but she deals with it the only way she knows how to, even as her mind wanders.

Survive this game, Y/N. Do not leave me behind.

—

All you can do is clutch the number on your chest - 037 - after what had just happened. After you watched a woman’s blood splatter onto a young man right next to you. After you watched him flinch and die moments later, right at your feet. It feels like a fever dream when money begins to drop into the piggy bank above the room, and you’re told each 100 million won added was somebody’s life.

That woman and the boy were, combined, only 200 million won to the pile. You want to vomit.

You drown out so much of it, but when you hear talk of money being passed out to the “winners” of the game you all just played, you’re disturbed to find it’s only reached about 75 million. You’re even more disturbed by your immediate desire for more, more money to fill the pig’s empty stomach (and more lives lost, apparently).

When it comes time to vote, you can’t bring yourself to care much about the man who claims he had played these games before. His pleas mean nothing to you, not when you have 250 million won to conjure up in the next month to continue the search for No-eul’s sweet daughter. You hesitate for only a split second before you hit the O, and you force yourself to drown out the fearful cries to your left as well as the howls from the hungry wolves to your right.

A blue patch is placed over your chest, but you do not cheer with the rest of your side.

—

When night comes, sleep refuses to come to you. It feels like a punishment now, especially as you look at the young girl just diagonal to you. 095. She shakes like a baby in her bed, and the red X on her sweater shows you why.

Have you damned this poor girl to death? Maybe even the kind old lady lying across from her?

The sick feeling in your gut prompts you to get up and head over to the side door. Three knocks prompts nothing but silence, but you refuse to give up so easily. With another set of knocks on the door, this time hard enough to make sure the guard on the other side (at least you hoped there was even anyone on the other side) heard you, you spoke up.

“I’m sorry, I don’t feel well, can I please-”

Without you saying another word, the door practically swings open.

Standing across from you is a pink guard with a triangle mask. The rifle at their side draws your attention immediately, and some paranoid part of your mind wonders if they only opened the door so they could shoot you for interrupting their quiet time. However, the guard surprisingly only takes a small step to the side after a strangely tense silence.

“...Thank you…”

You scuttle past them and immediately head to the bathroom. The moment you enter, you rush to the sink, turn on the faucet, and let a stream of icy cold water fall from your cupped hands onto your face. For a second, this helps your heart rate slow.

What brings it back up is the sound of the door opening, and what spikes it is the fact that it’s not a fellow player that walks into the silent bathroom, but the guard. Based on their height alone, you can tell it’s the same one. This is even more frightening somehow.

Did you do something wrong? Should you have just stayed in bed? Why did you pick-

“Why are you here?!” The guard’s raspy voice interrupts your thoughts. Her question (you now realize it’s a woman) was just barely quiet enough to not be considered a yell, but the frantic nature of it still makes you blank out. You’re so afraid that you end up completely missing the familiarity your body feels at the sound of her voice.

“I-I’m sorry ma’am, I just need to wash my face, I’ll-”

You’re interrupted once again by the guard’s movements, but this time, she’s practically ripping down the red hood of her jacket to pull off her mask. She doesn’t even need to take off her face covering by that point, because a single short glance at her eyes, the ones you knew so well, were enough.

“No-eul…,” you choke out, staring as she pulls the face covering down completely to reveal the face you’ve known for nine years. Her hair is sweaty and sticks to her face in a way that you recognize from her summer shifts at the fair.

Seeing her here is only comforting for a short moment though, because the pink of her uniform against the green of yours is still visible in your peripheral as you take in her confused, almost panicked expression. Her eyes scan your face for an answer, not nearly as patient as she typically is, and when you refuse to even make a sound, she takes a small step closer.

“Answer me. You shouldn’t- God.” She runs her gloved fingers through her hair in poorly hidden frustration as she sighs and turns away for a split second. “You shouldn’t be here. Not in a place like this.”

You don’t respond, but she can very much see the frown on your face after that last statement.

“Then what the hell are you doing here?” It doesn’t take much for you to regain your snarkiness, but it clearly throws her off guard.

“It’s just a temporary job, and you know why I need it, so answer me.”

Yes, you know full well why she needs it.

“...I need it too, Eul.” It’s not enough for her. You sigh before accepting your fate. “She needs it.”

For a second, there’s silence. She’s confused, and you watch as the gears turn in her head and she slowly comes to understand the intentions behind your words - understands the blue O plastered on your sweater. Somewhere in the blank expression she’s trying so hard to keep up, you can spot the shame, the guilt, and the sadness washing over her at the realization.

“Don’t look at me like you pity me. This was my choice to make.” I don’t regret it.

When she fails to even acknowledge what you just said, you simply sigh and move over to the wall, sitting down with your legs pulled close to your body. As if it were muscle memory, she joins you a moment later.

For what feels like forever, you two sit in silence and stare at each other. She can’t stop glancing down at the patch on your chest, and you can’t stop glancing at the mask she placed at her side. When she notices this, her expression gets even more shameful, and she lowers her head.

“Eul…” She doesn’t answer you, but you hear the soft exhale she releases when she hears your voice. “Eul, I don’t blame you.”

You reach over in a bold move and take her gloved hands. They’re mostly steady, but you know her too well by now. Even the slightest tremor is enough for you to practically feel the shame washing over her in waves. When you attempt to hold eye contact with her again, she breaks it uncharacteristically fast.

“You should’ve never come here.”

You sigh heavily and as she begins to pull her hands back, you tighten your grip on them and lean forward.

“I want to find her, No-eul. Please let me try.”

She’s damned you, just as she damned her daughter. She’s sure of it.

—

Whilst others around you are quickly gathering into groups, you find yourself lost in the crowd. No one pays you any mind as they shove past you to team up with people they had been interacting with, but what could you do when you’ve really just been ignoring most of the people here?

It’s humiliating when you find yourself inching towards a group of men that side-eye you and turn away before you can even ask to join their group. To be fair, if you were them, you probably wouldn’t want the meek girl in the corner either. It’s life or death, and you can’t blame them for picking the former. All you can do is sigh and turn away, but before you can go far, a hand gently grabs your upper arm and spins you around.

“Hey, you have a team yet?”

380.

She’s a girl you made eye contact with only once, right before your late night trip to the bathroom. From her appearance, you would’ve expected her voice to be a lot more gruff, but it’s soft and gentle and draws you in immediately. In a place like this, it's normal that you find yourself easily drawn to any sense of safety you can find (especially when your usual safe haven is hidden behind a mask that dozens of others are wearing - others that are probably far more willing to shoot you in the head for trying to stick to them).

“No.” An awkward silence fills the space between you two before you remember why she’s even asking such a question in the first place. “Do you want to…”

You don’t get to finish that question - thank god - before she chuckles and shakes her head slightly, answering you by taking you by the hand and dragging you over to her group.

Standing with her back against the wall, an armed guard keeps her eyes trained on your every movement. When 380 takes you by the hand, her grip on her rifle tightens just barely.

—

In a twisted way, you almost found the last game to be fun. The cheers of the spectators, 380’s tight grip on your arm and quiet encouragement after you failed the first round of gonggi, it’s all kindness and attention you never typically receive. You can almost bring yourself to completely ignore the fact that you’re pretty sure you just got yourself thrown in with a group of two drug addicts (you don’t know how they managed to sneak substances into this seemingly sterile environment, but it’s very obvious they succeeded in some capacity).

What wasn’t fun, however, was watching the previous losers get gunned down by people in the same outfit as the woman you were empathizing with just last night. You’re actually 99% sure she was one of them, which makes it that much worse. You pity those who lost, and for a second, as you watch a young boy fall to the ground with blood seeping out from a single hole above his heart, you feel an indescribable hatred towards those putting these people down like dogs.

But then No-eul’s face flashes in your mind and you feel the ghost of her hands on yours, and it all fades away.

“What’s your name?” Your train of thought is interrupted by a soft and familiar voice. You turn to face 380 and are slightly thrown off at the sight of 230, 124, and 125 also waiting expectedly. Albeit with some hesitance, you give them your full name, and 380 nods in acknowledgment.

“I’m Se-mi.” Her choice to leave out her surname isn’t lost on you, but you ignore it for now. After all, you don’t really know this woman, and she doesn’t know you.

“Two beautiful names for two pretty girls.” Maybe you should’ve left out your surname as well. “I’m the legend: Thanos! I’ll revive half the world with my lyrics, so watch out.”

After Thano’s little declaration, you couldn’t really pay attention to the other two (Min-su and Nam-gyu, if your memory serves you well). The short shy boy that had been trailing Se-mi when she asked you to join the team was just as quiet as he was before, but now that you’re really paying attention, you realize that he bears a striking resemblance to someone you knew.

Laughter rings out as you chase him through the yard. Short legs, shorter than yours, don’t take him too far before your open palm collides with his small back, causing him to practically faceplant into the dirt. His muffled cries come out soon after, and even with your sorry attempts to soothe him, your aunt still comes running out, scolding you for playing so roughly with her young son.

It’s the last time you’ll see them, even if you didn’t realize it then.

You break your gaze away as you shift uncomfortably at the sudden memory - 125 is not your cousin, he’s a stranger.

You glance around the room for a bit before deciding you’ve sufficiently distracted yourself. When you draw your focus back towards Se-mi, you see her staring off into the distance as well, having made the wonderful decision to not pay attention to the drug-riddled rambling of the rapper who had become the de-facto leader of the group. As if she can sense your gaze, she breaks her staring contest with the wall across the room to turn her head in your direction.

As your eyes meet again, you don’t look away, and you’re pretty sure she smiles a bit at this.

Smug.

—

When it’s time to vote yet again, you’re just as set on your choice as you were before. The guilt of voting for the games to continue even after seeing 095 cry and beg for her life weighs heavy on your heart, but the money just isn’t quite enough for you to quit yet.

When you drag yourself back over to the side cheering and throwing their fists in the air for the death games to continue, you have to stop for a second and close your eyes.

No-eul’s face is so clear in your mind, and so is every memory you have of her crying over her lost daughter.

It’s easier to stand with these people when you remember what you’re fighting for.

—

Even with the confidence you felt in your choice, your guilt isn’t dispelled and you can barely bring yourself to eat the dinner provided to you. You push around the egg with your spoon, head cradled in your hand as you stare down at the ground; it’s a pitiful scene, and you’re probably scaring off any potential future teammates, but in the moment, you truly couldn’t care less.

“Does it taste that bad?” The voice is teasing, and you immediately know who it is before she even sits down beside you.

“I’m not hungry right now, that’s all.”

“Bullshit,” she says with a laugh, and you finally look up from the speck on the floor just to shoot her a dirty look. She responds with a mischievous one in kind. “You feel bad or something? Starving yourself isn’t gonna change the vote on your chest.”

With a heavy sigh, you shove a spoonful of rice in your mouth just to shut her up, but all you do is earn another laugh from her. It’s a nice sound to hear, but you'd jam your spoon into your neck before admitting something like that to her.

“Where are the other three?”

She raises a brow and slightly leans back, revealing Min-su almost tucked into her side like a shaking child. If you all didn’t share your ages earlier, you would've thought he was only in his late teens with the way he was acting. “Thanos and Nam-gyu are digging into their candy stash again, if you know what I mean.”

A loud unprompted Woo! C’mon Man! from across the room confirms her answer, and you scoff.

“Addicts.” Another laugh from her, and finally, you’ve decided that you’ve had enough with trying to eat when your body damn near wants to reject it. “So, why are you here then?”

“Same as everybody else,” she looks over at you with an expression that says ‘obviously.’ “I’ve got some debt I’m trying to get rid of.”

You’re about to clarify that you actually meant to ask her why she was here, next to you and not why she was participating in a bunch of death games, but you push that thought aside for now. Curiosity takes over as your eyes try to uncover something, anything in her expression.

Piercings, careless attitude, but her eyes are soft when she looks at you and Min-su. She seems smart enough. Beautiful as well. How the hell did someone like her get into enough debt to want to participate in something like this?

“Aren’t you afraid of dying though?” It’s a weirdly deep question that you regret asking as soon as it leaves your mouth, but she only does her signature smirk before answering you.

“There are plenty of things out there that can kill me too. This place isn’t so different.” Except for the fact that you’re now living with the possibility of being shot for failing a kids’ game, but alright, you can accept that answer. When faced with your silence after her answer, Se-mi lifts a hand to gently grab the blue patch on your chest, examining it with apparent interest.

“How about you? Why did you choose to die?”

It’s an incredibly morbid way to put it even though from her tone, you can tell she’s obviously joking. Either way, it makes you grimace and destroys the confident demeanor you tried to hold up to match with hers. What could you say to a question like that? That you signed up to get money for someone else? That you could maybe even have lived a debt-free, semi-peaceful life without this other person, but you would rather die without her?

“It’s… yeah, it’s debt money for me too.” The lie leaves your mouth easily, but Se-mi doesn’t look convinced at all. Her doubtful gaze burns holes into the side of your face, and you’re beginning to desperately search for something to take her attention off you. Your reprieve comes in the form of the slight movement you spot behind her.

You don’t actually know this woman, and for now, you don’t intend to.

“Min-su, how about you?” Her intense gaze finally breaks, and she shifts to look at Min-su as well.

“Huh?”

“Why are you here?” You force your voice to be softer this time, less urgent to match with his jumpy nature. He’s calmer now, but there’s still shame evident in his expression even though he hasn’t even told you two anything yet.

“I… I just had some student loans, that’s all.” Se-mi makes the same face she made at you towards him and he winces, obviously unwilling to spill his secrets. You almost feel bad for the guy, especially with the way Se-mi is beginning to pester him a bit now. Seems like two unnecessarily vague answers were pushing her buttons a bit, and the idea that you’ve managed to irk this carefree woman is kind of satisfying.

After a while of listening to their back and forth (which mainly consisted of Min-su asking Se-mi how she’s so calm in ten different ways), out of pure boredom, you decide to test the waters one last time.

“It’s not really debt money for me.”

This catches their attention straight away, and Se-mi looks far more interested in this answer than your previous one. You drop your eyes back to the ground in preparation for your admission.

“Then what’s it for?”

“I’m planning on giving all the money I win to someone else. They’ll use it for their own... personal reasons.” Not exactly the full truth, but it’s part of it and you think she deserves at least that after recruiting you to her team.

For a second, you expect laughter to break out right in your face. You prepare to answer questions about why you would risk your life for someone else’s goal, but it never comes. Instead, when you look back up, all you see are two pairs of understanding eyes, not a hint of mockery in their gaze.

If anything, Se-mi almost looks proud of your answer.

“Actually… I joined the game to try and help my mom out a bit, that’s all. I wasn’t able to get a good job after school, so I want to make up for it.” Min-su’s words sound like those of a young boy still trying to understand the world around him. “I’m all she’s got left now.”

What was someone like him doing in an evil place like this?

“Man, you two are making me feel kinda bad,” Se-mi says, chuckling to herself before leaning back a bit to look at you square in the face.

She doesn’t doubt Min-su’s story, and even though she doubted yours for a split second, she sees nothing but genuine honesty and a hint of embarrassment in your eyes. This revelation fills her with relief, and for the first time, she spares you both a genuine smile.

“I figured you two were nice, generous people when we teamed up.” The newfound but genuine friendliness she exudes surprises you, but it’s a welcome change. “I’m glad I might just be right, and I’m hanging out with some good people for once.”

“Well, I hope I could say the same about you.”

She throws her head back in laughter at this, and you begin to think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to know these people after all.

—

“Can I use the bathroom please?”

This time, you don’t bother to knock, and as expected, your voice is all she needs to open the door and step aside. It was actually surprisingly quick this time too, as if she had been waiting on the other side already.

The air is tense, a feeling you never really associated with No-eul, but it’s late and the earlier conversation you had with your two new friends didn’t do much to dispel your undying anxiety about tomorrow. You can feel her gaze on you even from behind that mask, but you pay her no mind as you rush your wet hands across your reddened face and hair. The cooling effect is instant, and now, you finally feel ready to face her.

“Take off the mask, please.” Your voice is more exasperated than you intended it to be, but you can’t cover up the fatigue you’ve been feeling since the start of the games. It’s probably more of an emotional exhaustion thing, but you don’t want to think about all that right now.

As she’s going through the process of removing the layers covering her face from you, you begin heading over to the far end of the bathroom, eventually dropping to the floor with a heavy sigh. She’s staring at you expectedly.

“The gloves too.”

She doesn’t protest or even sigh, simply pulling them off her hands before shoving them into the pockets of her pink tracksuit. She takes this opportunity to run her fingers through her hair, bangs previously stuck to her face being pushed back out of the way. In that process, she reveals a red, clearly fresh cut on the side of her face. You practically jump up from the floor and stomp right back over to her.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Don’t worry, it was just a tussle with some of the other guards.” Your hands gingerly cup her face as you tilt it to examine the wound. She can feel her skin tingle where your fingertips gingerly graze it. “I handled it.”

You sigh heavily at her dismissal of the open wound on her face and walk around her to grab some paper towels, turning on the faucet to let cold water flow onto them.

“Fuck, No-eul, you’re not even participating in the games and you’re still finding ways to get injured.” Your hands are still shaking a bit when you come back over to her, gently dabbing the dried blood off her cheek. Her gaze is heavy on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look her in the eye right now. Not when you can practically feel her eyes all over your face, your body, every part of you.

As she stands there, No-eul’s mind begins to wander. How can you stand here, right in front of her after everything? Sometimes she genuinely believes you’re an angel sent from heaven to give her reprieve from the pain in her life; a gentle soul, who, even now, overlooks her greatest faults.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes out, gently taking your trembling hand in hers and pulling it away from her face. There’s an uncharacteristic softness in her expression, but you’ve seen it enough times to understand what it really conveys: guilt.

“You don’t have to apologize for something like this,” you say, clearing your throat as you turn to throw the paper towel away. “If you say everything’s fine, I’ll believe you.” Like always.

It's silent for a moment - almost peaceful - before her face twists as if she's just recalled an unpleasant memory.

“Who was that girl you were with? 380.” You scoff at her sudden question and turn around with pure confusion on your face.

“What?”

“She brought you over to those drug heads earlier. It’s not safe to hang around people like that, especially not in a place like this.” You bite back a response that said, well, you're currently with one of the guards that were gunning down people earlier, so how does that work?

“God, No-eul, it’s just a shitty temporary team-up kind of thing,” you laugh slightly at your own words, making sure to leave out your already growing attachment to two people in your little group. “What, did you expect me to try to do this all on my own?”

Her growing agitation is evident as her jaw visibly clenches and she turns away a bit, resting her hands on the back of the rifle slung around her shoulder. “I’m saying you should choose better, they’re the type of people who would drop you in a split second if it meant they could survive another day.”

“You think I don’t know that? Two of them are constantly high out of their minds and the other two-” You interrupt yourself with a sigh, shutting your eyes as your head droops; unfortunately, you can’t actually think of any reason you could have to distrust the unexpectedly kind girl and the shy boy you’ve grown acquainted with.

If they turned their backs on you, you would be lying if you said it wouldn’t phase you in the slightest.

No-eul begins feeling guilty again when she watches your shoulders drop and your eyes dim at the realization of the shitty situation you’ve found yourself in. Even so, her eyes don’t miss the unchanging patch on your sweater: a blue rectangle, neatly stitched with an O in the center. She bites her lip and curses under her breath. Always playing the hero, even at the expense of yourself.

She slowly walks back over to you, lifting up a single hand to trace the patch that signified your choice to give your life for hers.

“The issue isn’t the money,” the broker exclaims, his voice a mix of pity and exasperation at her persistence. “We’ve searched, we’ve been searching for years now, but a one-year old alone… especially after her mother deserted…?” Her expression hardens and he winces at the unintentional cruelty in his statement. “It’s almost impossible by now, No-eul.”

Her anger is barely contained when she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder, and a newfound calmness washes over her in waves.

“We understand the circumstances, sir, but please, please keep searching.” His expression softens slightly at the kind, weary smile on yours. “We’ll handle the expenses, all we ask is that you believe in this search too.”

She almost wants to cry at the sound of your sweet voice.

“We still have hope.”

“Get out of your head, No-eul.”

She’s startled back to reality when she feels gentle hands caress the scars on her wrists. Instinctively, she goes to pull away, but you step forward at the same time and press your body against hers, keeping a firm yet gentle grip on her wrists, fingertips still tracing the marks of the pain she’s held onto for seven years.

“Please don’t forget, this was my choice.” Your voice is muffled against the crook of her neck, but it’s just as gentle as she remembers it to be. “I still have hope.”

With those simple words, she feels the dream she’s held onto for years glow just a bit brighter. Closing her eyes, she leans head to rest atop yours, gently removing her arms from your grip to wrap them firmly around your body. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate her hold.

“Me too.” Your grip on her tightens just barely. “I still have hope too.”

—

A/N: WOW SORRY PLOT DUMP ALERT!! I love some good set-up but I hope the yearning was enough to make up for the lack of obvious romance like smut..

Never posted on Tumblr before too so I have no clue if I did this right (like formatting)! again, any thoughts on the fic are appreciated and ill probably (hopefully) finish part 2 soon! that part will prob be better cuz the relationship between all characters are all set up now. might cross post on ao3/wattpad but haven't decide yet

[loganwritesprobably]

When You're In Danger - Straw Hats (Monster Trio)

Content/warnings: GN!Reader, Luffy, Zoro and Sanji headcanons, canon-typical violence referenced, injuries referenced, these men believe in your independence and your abilities!

Part two feat. Nami, Robin and Jinbei

While Luffy hates the idea of you getting hurt, he knows he can't stop it

He'd never expect you to idle by when a fight happens just because he doesn't want you getting hurt

He knows that you're capable, and he's proud of that fact

He'd keep an ear out for you though, as you continued your own fights, just in case

If you were in serious danger that you couldn't combat yourself, Luffy would move heaven and Earth to make sure you were safe

If you got hurt despite him rushing to your rescue, he would blame himself, but he would internalise that

If anyone stood in his way on his path to your side to defend you, they wouldn't be standing for much longer

Monkey D Luffy is a beast, and seas forbid anyone forgets thet

If you were hurt in a battle because you were outmatched, Luffy wouldn't leave your side for anything until he was sure you'd be okay

He trusts Chopper instinctively, but you're too special to lose

Zoro knows, perhaps even more than you know yourself, that you can handle danger. He trusts you to know how to protect yourself

He taught you how after all

So generally speaking he doesn't worry much about you when a fight begins, instead he oozes a quiet confidence

Zoro also knows when he or the crew are outmatched

The crew are brilliant, and have their own skills, but they're all at different combat levels - you're not on the same level as him

If he knew a fight would be too much for you, he'd seek you out in order to assist you

Needing help doesn't make you weak, it just shows you what you need to improve on

It would be second nature for him to find you, one of the rare times that he has a sense of direction

If you became injured because of his failure to protect you, he'd punish himself with intensified training, forcing himself to work harder

If he can't protect you, then what's the point? You're the only thing as important as his dream and Luffy

He wouldn't be able to look at you for a while after, afraid that you also weren't going to forgive him for his failure

Zoro would cut anyone down, ally or foe, to get to you in times of danger

Sanji knows when you're in trouble as if it's a sixth sense

Even if he thinks you can handle himself, he'll rush from his own fight to appear at your side and see for himself that you're coping

It's almost uncanny, how fast he can be there at your side

He only steps in if he's absolutely sure you need him to, because the last thing he wants is to step on your toes if you can handle it

He knows how good it feels to succeed

If you do need him to get involved, he's there before you can ask out loud. He sees it in your face and your body language

He dispatches whatever was causing you problems as fast as he can, then makes sure that you're okay

You even rank above Nami in terms of importance for him. The entire crew loves Nami and can help her - nobody loves you quite like Sanji does

If he can't get there in time, the person who hurt you will have the highest price to pay: a slow and painful death

Nobody is allowed to hurt you, not as long as he lives

He'll apologise to you profusely once the job is done, and spend at least a week if not more at your beck and call doing whatever you need ask him to do

You best be ready to eat your favourite meals every day until he's satisfied that he has apologised enough

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf

[seeingivy]

the moms

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

--

“so was it good?” 

you shove sammy in the side. 

“i don’t have sex and tell, samantha.” you respond, exaggerating every last syllable. 

sammy sticks her tongue out to you in response, before handing you the fork. she was the messiest eater you knew, possibly even worse than yuuji, and she had all but demolished the layers of the triple chocolate cake that the two of you were sharing. 

“would it kill you to eat this like a normal person?” 

“dude, just tell me. this is the fun part about having sex!” 

“what? gossiping about it after?” you ask.  

“obviously.” 

you roll your eyes, before crossing your arms over your chest. 

“well, why don’t you gossip first? you’ve had more sex than i have.” 

“okay, fine. the first time i had sex it was after prom at some random house party. your turn!” 

you give her a glare, which she responds to with a glimmering smile, before gesturing for you to take your turn. that wasn’t the answer you were hoping for when you asked that. 

“well, i made dinner before he came. and he was like…doing the whole teasing thing because he always makes us dinner and not the other way around.” 

“well, i’m shocked you didn’t chop your own hand off during the process.” 

“shut up. anyways, i like initiated it by just giving him the condom.” 

sammy nearly chokes on her bite of the cake. 

“huh?” 

“i just like put it on the table. then he was like going on about how he should be buying the condoms and not me and all that. and even after, he was going off about birth control and plan b and he can buy this one or that one for me and –” 

“as he should. i’d come skin him alive if he didn’t.” 

“yeah but, i just hate when he offers up him money to me sometimes. he won’t let me pay rent, he like so casually offered to pay for grad school if i have to apply again and -” 

“you won’t have to apply again.” 

you shoot her a warning glance, before continuing. 

“i just feel bad. it reminds me a lot of how much mom probably has to pay them back and hasn’t yet. i’ll feel like i’m doing the same thing to him even though he said it doesn’t really matter because i’ll make more money than him down the line and pay him back.” 

sammy pauses. 

“i get what you mean. and it’s not his fault, but maybe he just doesn’t get that…that it’s such a big thing he’s giving away. and you are his girlfriend and you do mean the world to him, but it’s not…” 

“it’s just too much money. i don’t have something liek that to really offer him. i know it’s an investment in me and that he believes in me and that…that i could eventually pay him back, but i just can’t do that i…i just –” 

“well you won’t have to, because you’re going to get in. and if you don’t get in, i will help you apply again. i have a job and you’re my sister.”

you glare at her. 

“i’m serious, y/n. you’re my responsibility and…and you shouldn’t feel bad taking my money to do it. it’s only because i know how strapped you are for money. i know that you’ll really mean to pay it back.” 

“i will pay it all back, though. like the first second i can, i’m going to –” 

sammy leans forward, placing both of her hands on your shoulder and squeezing hard. it’s an almost silly smile that she gives you – and it’s almost like you can see seven year old sammy coming up to the surface. 

“relax. i know you will. and i’ll be waiting for it.” 

you swallow hard. 

“okay fine. fine, fine. you can help me if it gets to that.” 

“okay enough boring talk. was it hot? did you actually orgasm?” sammy asks. 

you curl your nose up in disgust. 

“nice segway.” you deadpan. 

“cmon. he’s hot! i know it was good.” 

you sigh. 

“yes, it was hot. and yes, i did orgasm. twice.” 

sammy always been one for the theatrics. and she’s never one to disappoint – because she’s dramatically clutching her chest and making such shocked faces that it makes you laugh. 

“not one but TWO?” 

you can’t help but smile as she continues her spiel of dramatics and that silent bit of pride – that sukuna was a caring enough partner to actually care about you rather than just himself – simmers up. 

“who was the dom? is he into foreplay? oh…oh did he like the outfit? i bet he probably lost his mind.” 

“him, obviously. but he said that i’m a brat. and yeah he is into it, but he’s kind of always been like that. and he accidentally ripped it because he got too excited but he offered to get me another one and then added that i need lingerie in every existing color on the color spectrum so…” 

“what a dick! i paid for that. and you looked great in it.” 

you reach forward, just close enough where you can wrap your arms around her neck. you can hear her struggling a little, an irritated string of noises coming out of her mouth before you let go. 

“what’s your problem?” 

“i just felt really appreciative of you for a second there.” 

sammy gives you a disgusted look, before cupping the bottom of your chin in her hand. 

“you’re gross, y/n.” 

“you love it!” 

sammy gives you one last glare, before sliding a little pink box over to the side. you shoot her a confused look, before opening it and fighting the urge to laugh. 

it’s a little frosted cupcake, with the word virgin crossed out on it. 

“you’re horrible.” 

“it’s funny!” 

--

“what’s in the box?” sukuna asks. 

sukuna watches as your eyes widen, before you slam the little pink box shut and slide it behind your back. 

you feel your heart sink your chest as sukuna stalks closer, giving you a wide grin, before he stretches his arms – which are irritatingly long – behind you and reaches for it. and before you can even try to snatch it back, he’s turned his back to you as he opens it. 

“who gave you this? or is this just something you bought yourself?” 

“why the hell would i buy that for myself?” 

sukuna laughs as he hands you the box back, which you tuck closer to your chest before you glare at him. 

“it’s okay to celebrate big milestones in our relationship. i get it, sweetheart.” he responds. 

“i did not buy myself a cupcake with the word virgin crossed out on it. sammy gave it to me. she thinks she’s hilarious.” 

sukuna shrugs. 

“you’ve been hanging out with sammy a lot.” 

you smile. 

“dunno. she always invites me to come get coffee with her. the other day i asked her to come study with me and it was really nice.” 

“and you talk about how you’re not a virgin over a matcha while you hang out.” 

you grin. 

“it was actually a slice of cake.” 

sukuna dismissively shakes his head, before leaning his head over your shoulder and eyeing the cupcake. 

“what flavor?” 

“chocolate. you’re not going to like it.” 

he’s leaning over your shoulder, sticking his finger straight into the frosting before licking it off his finger. you watch as he curls his face in disgust as he holds his finger out to you. 

“too sweet. want it?” 

you swipe the rest of the frosting off of his finger as you tuck the box back into the fridge and turn around to sukuna smirking at you. you roll your eyes as you shove him, knowing that this was going to be yet another one of his dirty jokes – that never seemed to cease. 

it’s at that point that you realize that he entirely did it on purpose. and that he had the maturity of a seventeen year old boy at times. 

“you’re immature. i just licked your finger.” you state. 

“you just licked my finger? like you just licked my –” 

you flip him off, earning you a laugh from him, before he wraps his arms around your waist, this time pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. it’s not long before he starts leaving wet kisses on your neck, before you can feel your entire body start to thrum under his touch. 

“c'mon. you’re so tense. let me fix it.” he whispers. 

“i need to iron our clothes. and i’m just worried about later, with the moms, that’s all.” 

his breath tickles as he leans lower, now sucking into the soft spots of your neck, as you whine – his voice rasping against your skin. you try to shake him off, already sporting three marks that you’d need to cover up for tonight, but he persists. 

“who cares?” he murmurs. 

you pout. 

“i care! she’s your mom! she’s my mom! and sammy said they invited yuuji, who is probably going to be pissed that i was going there without him in the first place. and your dad is going to be there which is –” 

sukuna spins you around, tucking his hand under your chin. 

“i don’t give a fuck what my dad thinks. neither should you.” 

“i don’t. but, he…” 

“what?” 

“he says stuff. about yuuji when we go. he could say it about us too, about you.” 

“i don’t care.” 

“well, i do. who gives him the right?”

it was a simmering irritation that had been taking residence in your head for the past few days. you’d always thought it was a little crass – sukuna’s comments about how his mom was spineless at times, how he couldn’t care less if his father lived or died. 

he’d always found your insistence to see your parents at least every two weeks ridiculous, that you and yuuji would go out of your way to trek out there to see them when the entire experience was wholly unpleasant anyways. 

but it was all you thought about now – and maybe even a little haunting that now you found his reasoning sound. that as much as you loved his mom, she really was spineless for making him assume so much responsibility when it should have been her. and his dad – that you would actually prefer it if he did die, just to save the two of them from getting hurt. 

sukuna lifts his hands and squishes your cheeks, so close together that you can’t get a word out. you glare at him in response – irritated that he always seems to somehow shut you up before you can even broach the topic. 

but you drop it, like you almost always do, because all he does is brightly smile at you in response, muttering under his breath about how squishy your cheeks are. and it feels wrong – to curb someone who was so happy and bring up such a sore topic…especially when you two would probably return to the apartment downtrodden in a few hours and have to talk about it anyways. 

“sukuna.” 

he reaches up, rubbing his thumb into your forehead – a gesture he always did when he was trying to get you to stop frowning. 

“eh? what happened to calling me ryomen?” 

“well, you’re being annoying.” 

“quit making that frowny face.” 

“i’m just saying that i want dinner to go well. i don’t want it to go bad because then the moms are going to be upset and yuuji could be too which will be irritating for you and i just –” 

sukuna gives you one lingering kiss before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. 

“love that you worry about me. but i’ll be fine. just drop it, okay?” he whispers. 

you frown. 

“okay. but the first sign of trouble we’re leaving. three squeezes we fight and leave, two squeezes for shut up and stay.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“deal, pretty girl.” 

--

you stand on the cobblestone walkway for five minutes. mainly because every time sukuna makes an effort to drag you into the house, you pull back on his hand and linger there for a few more seconds, refusing to walk in. 

“we’re already late. one of them is probably having an aneurysm right now.” sukuna states. 

“there’s no way they aren’t watching this all go down from the window. and two more minutes. i’m just trying to compose myself.” 

“well, unfortunately, we’re not in the fucking orchestra, baby. let’s just get it over with.” 

you roll your eyes at him and he tries again – pulling your arm forward – before you pull back. you appreciate that he refuses to walk in without you, but that simmering pool of disgust in your stomach, mainly for sukuna’s dad, was getting even worse now that you were here. and if you went now, you wouldn’t keep the promise you two had made. 

to avoid fights, at all costs. 

“so what are we doing out here?” 

you both turn your heads to find yuuji at your sides, both immediately dropping your hands from one another’s, as you look at him. it fills an ache in your chest – that you used to do this with him and he barely even wanted to see you these days – as you give him a halfhearted smile. 

“ah. just nervous to go in, that’s all.” you respond. 

“oh, the moms will be dying to hear all the details. what’s there to be scared of?” 

“exactly that. that they’re going to ask for details.” 

yuuji leans his head back, laughing like a little kid, before shaking his head and pressing his hands to your shoulders. it fills you with the slightest amount of ease – warm hands on your shoulders, his musky cologne filling your nose – as you walk closer to the door.  

sukuna knocks on the door for the three of you. and they both answer the door in a split second, confirming your suspicions that they really were watching everything go down from the window. 

it’s suffocating – the group hug that the two of them trap you all in. you can hear both yuuji and sukuna groaning in your ears, your own windpipe constricted from your vantage point in the middle, as you hear a string of sweet nothings coming out of their mouths. 

“our little love birds are here!” 

when they let go, freeing the three of you from their deathly grasp, they’re both beaming at you and sukuna so lovingly that it almost freaks you out. you shoot a look to yuuji at your side, whose making his best efforts not to laugh, as he walks past the four of you into the kitchen. 

“okay, okay, let’s see it then!” your mom states. 

“see what?” sukuna asks.   

“do something sweet. give her a kiss, sukuna!” mrs. itadori adds. 

“i will most definitely not be doing that.” sukuna responds, pressing a halfhearted kiss to his mom’s cheek before linking his arm in with yours and dragging you past the two of them. 

they both follow, like overzealous dogs, as you shoot them polite smiles. but the second you catch sight of sammy in the kitchen, with a batch of cupcakes, you wrestle out of sukuna’s grasp to run up to her. 

sammy gives you a smile in recognition when she realizes it’s your pounding steps that she’s hearing and opens her arms up for you. it’s a warm hug – a sickeningly sweet smell of sugar emanating from her – as she whispers into your ear, the two of you snickering. 

“did he like my cupcake?” 

“i hope you die, bitch.” 

“who said that?” your mom asks. 

“sammy.” you respond. 

“y/n.” sammy responds, at the exact same time.

you both snicker as you lean against the counter with her, as sukuna walks over with his arms crossed against his chest. 

“samantha.” he states. 

“ryomen sukuna.” she responds. 

“y/n!” you add. 

the two of them look over at you, irritated looks on their faces. 

“everyone was saying each other’s names really dramatically. i wanted to join in.” you add. 

“i’m going to have a talk with you after dinner, ryomen.” 

“fine, samantha. i look forward to it.” 

despite the rather dramatic and overzealous tones they’re both using, their smiles deceive them entirely. sammy gives him a light shove, that he fully returns, before he walks off into the kitchen. 

and not even two minutes later, you can’t help but abandon helping the sammy with the dishes and instead poke your head out to the table – where sukuna’s now sitting next to yuuji and two seats away from his dad. 

you can tell that the sukuna and yuuji are whispering under their breaths, but entirely unable to discern if it’s pleasant or if they’re two seconds away from ripping each other’s heads off. 

sammy slaps you on the backside of the head. 

“you’re even worse than him. why are you staring at him? you literally live together.” 

“we don’t live together. and how do you even know that?” 

“you told me.” 

“i totally didn’t, but…they’ve been fighting since we started dating. i’m scared one of them is going to smack the other at this point.” 

sammy rolls her eyes. 

“don’t tell me yuuji has some weird complex about you dating his brother. there’s no way he didn’t know sukuna has liked you this entire time.” 

“what are you girls whispering about?” your mom asks. 

you both shoot up, abandoning the door, as you start stacking the plates, shooting the two of them a peachy smile. 

“nothing, mommy. just girl stuff.” you mutter. 

“y/n was staring at sukuna. i was telling her that she has all the time in the world to do that and that she should help me instead.” 

you shoot sammy a glare, as she starts laughing behind her hand, before sukuna’s mom walks up to you, cupping both of your cheeks in her hands. you’re caught off guard by the blatant affection – because it’s not that she hasn’t been fond of you before, but it holds too much of a different weight now. 

“oh sweet girl. i’m so happy for you two, i’ve always known he’s had such a special spot for you.” 

you smile as she reaches forward and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, before wrapping you in one of the tightest hugs to man. you can feel the blood rushing to your head, nervousness returning in full flesh as she lets you go and smiles. 

“so everyone tells me! at this point, it feels like everyone knew but me.” you add. 

“do you remember when he walked to a grocery store to get you a princess bandaid because you thought the tan ones were boring? because i personally remember that and thought –” 

“sammy, quit it. don’t tease your sister.” your mom scolds. 

sammy bites down on her cheeks at the comment, at being berated by your mom, as you frown. you look at her over your shoulder, shaking your head in dismissal, as you grab the last of the dishes and drag them out to the table. 

it was a weird test – the dinner tonight. between you and sammy, since you had just rekindled whatever relationship it was you had, and you and yuuji, since he couldn’t seem to be bothered to really talk to you these days. and between your god given patience and sukuna’s dad, obviously. 

when you walk into the room, sukuna shuffles a seat over, offering you the spot in between him and yuuji, and you shoot him a grateful smile. but you immediately regret sliding into it, realizing that he’s now stuck right next to his dad and across from his mom at the other side.

you reach for sukuna’s hand under the table and he laces his fingers in with yours. when he looks up at you, he frowns and presses his fingers to your cheek. 

“you have a lipstick mark.” sukuna states, rubbing into the softness of your cheek. 

“oh. your mom kissed me.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“irritating. that’s my thing.” 

sukuna drops his hand as your mom walks in with the last of the plates, everyone shuffling into their seats and giving each other peachy smiles. it’s almost awkward at first, because no one seems to really talk with anyone else. it’s really only the moms interjecting every one in a while, but it’s almost always awkward comments. 

“sammy. you should have brought your boyfriend.” your mom states. 

you shoot your head up. 

“he’s busy.” she responds. 

“he’s always busy. we’d love to meet the guy you spend so much time with. he could even be friends with sukuna!” 

“well, sukuna is annoying, so i doubt it. but sure, sure. next time.” sammy responds, reaching for her glass and downing half of the water in it. 

you shoot her a smile, which she doesn’t really return, as you bite down into the side of your cheek.

the dinner goes well, considering things. it’s obviously very awkward – and they ask way too many overbearing questions that sukuna refuses to answer due to the intrusion. and that you can’t stomach answering either, because yuuji’s almost too attentive eyes at your side guilt you into not confessing. 

“have you guys said i love you yet?” mrs. itadori asks. 

“mom.” sukuna groans.

you two shoot each other a look. 

“if you must know, we have. now talk about something else, literally anything else.” sukuna responds, making such an aggressive cut into his chicken that it loudly clinks against the ceramic of the plate. 

it’s enough to satiate the moms and throw them into their own frenzy of excitement. 

“i’m going to get some water.” yuuji states. 

“i’ll come with!” you respond, shooting him a smile as you both awkwardly pull out of the chairs. 

it’s a quiet walk to the kitchen, as yuuji rummages through the cabinets and produces a glass for the two of you. but luckily enough for you, he’s the one who fills the silence first. 

“i miss you.” he offers. 

you feel your chest clench. 

“really? i really miss you too.” 

“got no time for me anymore now that you’ve got a boyfriend?” he jokes. 

“that’s rich coming from you.” you joke back. 

except when you look up, he’s looking at you with no semblance of a smile on his face, instead an awkward mix between confusion and irritation. 

“what do you mean by that?” 

“oh! i was just kidding!” 

“were you?” 

“it’s just because you’re always with megumi. and he always used to come to our hangouts, that’s all.” 

“do you have a problem with that?” 

“no. but –” 

“because if you did, you should have just said. i thought we were best friends who told each other everything. including when the other was being a bad friend.” yuuji states. 

“i know. i just felt bad and i didn’t really mind him joining.” 

yuuji sighs, before turning to your side and facing you properly this time. it’s a simmering pool of disgust in your stomach – mainly for yourself – that yuuji had tried to build a bridge and you’d immediately burned it down by making a joke that wasn’t appropriate. 

“look. i don’t like fighting with you. and i really miss you, you…you can even ask megumi. talk about it all the time. we have a lot to talk about, obviously, but –” 

you sigh, reaching forward and opening your arms for him. it’s a bright smile that he gives you – characteristically warm, with the soft wrinkles by his eyes. 

“i miss you too.” 

“i’ll uh…promise to be civil then. if sukuna’s the hill you’re willing to die on, then…then i’ll try to get over it.” 

you smile. 

“really?” 

“are you really that shocked? i’d do anything for you.”

“you gave me a pause there.” you add. 

yuuji frowns, before reaching forward, and affectionately ruffling the side of your hair. 

“i love you, y/n. i’m sorry if i didn’t make it seem that way, i just –” 

“i know you love me. i just thought you trusted me more to know i wouldn’t make stupid decisions anymore.” 

yuuji frowns. 

“i don’t think you’re stupid. it was him i didn’t trust.” 

“well, how about you just trust my judgment about him?” 

“i just want you to be with someone who would treat you really well.” 

“and he does treat me really well. i wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t.” 

you reach forward, linking one of your hands in with yuuji’s, and squeeze hard. 

“i appreciate the concern. but i’ll tap out if it’s too much for me.” you affirm. 

yuuji frowns, before halfheartedly shaking his head. 

“i know. just…you’re still my best friend first. you can still come to me if he does something to you…i…i don’t give a shit that he’s my brother.” 

“obviously. you’re my day one.” you respond. 

yuuji gives you a glimmering smile, which you take as a silent win, as you both walk back into the main room. and when you sit back down, sammy shoots you a wide eyed look, before letting her eyes flicker over to sukuna. 

you look over at him at your side, only to find him clenching not only his jaw but his fists under the table. you reach for his leg under the table, squeezing once, which he immediately responds to by taking hold of your hand instead. 

“you’re finally back. don’t you think it’s rude to leave for minutes at a time, y/n, yuuji?” 

you bite down on your lip, feeling the acidic feeling crawl up your throat, as you turn your head to where sukuna’s dad is now staring you down. you shoot sukuna a warning glance, before you swallow the feeling down. 

“i’m sorry. i wasn’t feeling well.” you respond. 

you’re able to cue in that in the few seconds that you and yuuji had stepped into the kitchen, his dad had downed a decent amount of the wine bottle that had been intended for you and sukuna to share. 

and the awkward silence hangs in the air, everyone lowering their heads to focus on pushing their food around on their plate. no one makes an effort to talk again and sukuna’s squeezing your hand so hard that you’re almost positive that he’s cutting your circulation off. 

“what were you and yuuji talking about?” he asks. 

“nothing. we were just getting water, because she wasn’t feeling well.” yuuji responds. 

“right. well, you’re sure there’s nothing going on right? because you’ve always been closer than most.” 

sukuna watches as you and yuuji pinch your eyes shut, the irritation festering in both of your expressions. sukuna remembers that you had mentioned it in passing – that his dad always seemed to suggest that there was something going on between you and yuuji – to avoid talking about megumi. 

“she’s my girlfriend.” sukuna responds. 

“well, like i was saying, you should rethink that.” his dad adds. 

yuuji drops his fork. 

“what?” 

“yuuji, don’t.” sammy whispers. 

“well, i was just saying. if it were me, i would feel strange if my wife was so close with another man. they’ve had hundreds of sleep overs…and you’re really telling me that two teenagers were sleeping in the same bed without doing anything?” 

you feel your eye twitch. 

“and then again, you do have to question her intentions. he makes more money than her, i’m now being told that she lives with him, and…and it begs the question. what does she really bring to the table? at best, student loans?” 

sukuna immediately shoots his head to the left, only to find you looking down at your plate, the strands of your hair obscuring your face. he shakes your hand under the table, only to get two squeezes back. 

no fighting. 

he leans back in his chair, stomach rolling over, only to find yuuji staring bullets into his skin. he gives him a confused look, which only seems to agitate yuuji more. 

“do something.” yuuji whispers. 

“what the hell are you on about? just be quiet.” sukuna responds. 

yuuji slams his utensils down on the plate, before pushing out of his chair. 

“sukuna. help me with the dessert in the kitchen.” yuuji responds, tone scathing. 

you let the two of them shuffle away into the kitchen and restrain yourself from joining them for a full two minutes. but the first shred of a raised voice that you hear is enough to make you push out of your chair and excuse yourself, only to find the two of them glaring at each other. 

“guys…you have to be kidding me.” you state. 

“y/n. you said you would tap out. i think now’s the time.” yuuji states. 

sukuna tilts his head to the side. 

“you said what?” sukuna asks. 

“yuuji. that is in no way what i meant. and why the hell would i tap out?” 

“he’s a dick! sukuna’s letting him talk to you like that and he doesn’t even care.” 

sukuna’s sneering at him. 

“like i said, dipshit, she asked me specifically not to. i actually care enough to listen unlike you.” sukuna responds. 

yuuji’s glaring back. 

“i would never, in good faith, let anyone talk about her like that. maybe that’s the difference between me and you.” 

“you didn’t say shit when we were sitting there.” sukuna states. 

“because you’re supposed to do that. she’s your girlfriend. you should adore her so much that it pisses you off that someone would even raise their voice at her.” 

“and i do. but i love her enough to respect what she wants – which is not fucking fighting in front of our parents, dumbass.” 

yuuji gets a little too close to sukuna and his raised hands make the panic rise up in your chest. you feel a set of footsteps moving before sammy’s standing right at your side, the two of you watching as they continue to argue. 

you refuse to intervene. sukuna was mature enough to deal with it.

“do something.” sammy whispers. 

“what the hell am i supposed to do?” you whisper back. 

“they’re like your little lap dogs. make one stop and the other will follow. mrs. itadori’s like two minutes away from crying.” 

you groan, as sammy gives you a supportive thumbs up, and you inch closer to them. 

it’s the last time you decide to take sammy’s advice. 

because the exact second that you decide to walk closer to them is also when yuuji decides that he’s going to punch sukuna first. except when he pulls his hand back to aim, he backs his fist into your face instead of sukuna’s. 

it’s a burning warmth that’s blooming under your skin, as you clutch your hands to your forehead and block out the light before dropping to your knees. you instinctively try to block the light out as the pulsating rushes under the softness of your eye, the pain sharp. 

you feel your head raise off of the cold tile quickly, sammy’s hands on your cheeks. 

“shit. shit, y/n i’m sorry i didn’t think he’d punch you.” sammy states. 

“sammy, you…you’re such a fucking idiot.” you murmur, in half coherency. 

the first thing that you see in your peripheral vision is sammy and yuuji looking down at you, a warm fear drowning in both of their eyes but with the edges of your vision blurred. you can tell that there’s a slight sheen in yuuji’s eyes, his hands squeezing at your biceps and his voice entirely frantic. 

“y/n. oh my fucking god, i’m so sorry. i didn’t even fucking see you there. i would never fucking hit you.” 

“hey. hey, hey. focus on me.” sammy beckons. 

you avert your gaze to her, now focused on how her fingers seem to be massaging into the back of your head. 

“repeat your name for me.” sammy asks. 

“what? you know my name sammy.” 

“you know where you are?” she asks. 

you can tell what she’s doing. 

“sam, i’m fine. quit doing one of your nursing school exams on me.” 

“follow my finger with your eyes. you hit your head, dumbass.” 

the light is entirely obscured this time, quieting the sharpness of the fluorescent bulb above, when you finally find sukuna in your line of vision, nursing a bag of peas in his hands. he doesn’t say anything, eyes drowning in such guilt that it makes your stomach turn. 

“hey, i’m fine.” you offer.

“sit up for me then doll.” he responds. 

you follow his command, both sammy and yuuji stabilizing you at your side as he brushes his fingers over your eye. you flinch at the sensation, watching as his eyes flicker in hurt, before he presses the peas into the softness of your eyes. he continues to hold it there, before turning to sammy. 

“is she okay, sam?” 

“she didn’t answer all my questions, but i think she was just sassing me. she’s alert but just be on the watch if she gets more confused as she gets home. call me if it gets worse.” sammy offers. 

“anything else i can do besides the ice?” sukuna asks, voice quiet. 

“she’s going to be fine. s’just a bruise. give her an advil for a headache.” sammy responds, reaching forward to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

yuuji takes one of your hands in his, squeezing his hand in yours. 

“y/n, really. i’m so sorry, you have to know that i didn’t mean it.” 

you frown. 

“i know, yuu. no big deal, let’s just…talk about it later, okay? i know it was an accident and…” 

you’re cut off by the feeling of sukuna taking your other hand and squeezing three times. you look over at him, eyes wide. 

“you might not need to tap out yet but i fucking do. can we leave?” he whispers. 

“of course we can. i don’t want to –” 

“i’m getting your bag. stay with sammy.” he responds, gesturing for her to take his place in holding the peas against your face as he stalks out of the room. 

sukuna returns just as fast as he left, bag in his left hand and his right wrapped around your waist as he marches the two of you to the porch. in the few seconds he uses to pull up to the car at the front, you turn to sammy at your side. 

“stay with yuuji. tell him that it’s okay and that he should stay with megumi tonight. i don’t want him to be all upset.” 

“got it. i’ll come by tomorrow, okay?” 

you give her a nod, as she walks you to the passenger side door, where sukuna’s quick to open the door and tuck you into the warmth of the car. 

it’s a quiet ride home. 

--

he’s uncharacteristically inexpressive the second you get back to the apartment. you can tell that it’s not nonchalance – only because he seems to be tending to you so dutifully, but quietly. almost like he can’t muster up something to say. and you can’t think of the right thing either. 

he’s quick to lead you to the bedroom, helping you into your pajamas and carefully pulling the shirt over your injured eye. and even after that, delicately wiping the makeup off of your face, before pressing a real icepack into your eye. 

it’s satisfying to him that you seem to relax under the cooling sensation of the icepack, fluttiern gyur eyes shut like you’re relieved. 

“thanks ryo. i appreciate you taking care of me.” you mumble. 

he lifts his hands up to your neck, using the tips of his fingers to angle your face up so that he can look at you properly in the light. you can see the contempt in his face at the pink swelling now, at how he swallows so hard you can see his adam’s apple bob in his throat. 

“i’m going to kill him.” sukuna whipsers. 

“i don’t care what your dad thinks. i don’t care if he thinks i have nothing to offer you –” 

“not him…i’m talking about fucking yuuij. he fucking punched you, y/n.” 

you cringe. 

“it was an accident.” you respond. 

“i know that. but that’s just the thing. he’s so fucking immature for even attempting to punch me at a family dinner. and as always, he has no fucking awareness of his surroundings or of you, because he just gave you a black eye.” 

you can tell that he’s still simmering – muscles in his neck tense – as you try to diffuse the stiffness and tension. 

“you care so much about little old me?” you joke, giving him a peachy smile. 

he only glares in response. 

“he punched you in your pretty face. stop fucking joking about it. i know how much that shit hurts first hand, y/n, and it's in no way funny to me."

you frown, before standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. he’s quick to return the hug, holding most of your weight around your waist as you sag into him. 

his voice is quiet when it comes out.

"i hate seeing you in pain." he mumbles.

it’s only then that you’re really able to recollect everything – the extremely high energy that the moms seemed to be dishing out, his dad’s clear, abundantly clear disapproval of you, and the fact that you and yuuji seemed to only get farther apart the closer you try to be to him. a

nd that the pinching headache that was starting to settle into the front of your forehead was something sukuna was all to familiar with, at age seven. that maybe the entire ordeal was reminding him of the worst, but that you were at the center of it.

and horribly, it’s a quick thought that passes your mind. that what you and yuujji have going on in between you might be irreparable. that you have to pick, and that you can't fix anything that happened to sukuna when he was little.

you don’t say much at first, only focused on pressing yourself into his skin and leaning against his shoulder. the thought of never recuperating your relationship with yuuji has the tiredness seeping into your bones and wearing you down completely. 

his breaths seem to slow down, muscles relaxing as he only holds you closer, burying his head into the crook of your neck. 

“quit being mad.” you murmur. 

“easier said than done, princess.” he responds. 

“was an accident. i know why it bothers you but...” 

sukuna's quiet, his voice like gravel.

"i don't want to talk about that."

you pull back, immediately regretting mentioning it.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to push, i just meant-"

"i know. i just can't stomach reliving that when i can see the bruise on your face. i can't even fucking look at you, you...."

his voice wavers and you press your hand into his cheek, dismissing it.

"whenever you're ready. if you want to."

you frown. sukuna’s quick to pull back and wrap one his hands around your cheek. 

“stop talking about me. you're the one who's hurt, you...you have to let me fix it.” he whispers. 

you can tell that he's trying to change the subject. and that really, some part of him only feels comfortable when he's taking care of someone else. you'll grant it to him for today.

“i’m just tired and that was just a lot with yuuji and i just…” 

you deflate, feeling warm tears rise up in your eyes. that he always wants to take care of you, even when he doesn't feel his best. you can watch as sukuna’s face literally droops, before lifting your face up again. 

that really, he cared about you so earnestly, and yuuji was refusing to see it.

“what is it?” 

“what if yuuji and i are never the same again? what if…what if we just keep getting worse?” 

sukuna frowns. 

“i don’t like that he makes you pick, y/n. but i wouldn’t –” 

“no. no fuck off for a second, god.” 

sukuna’s thrown off by the cursing, as he takes the cue to be quiet and talk. 

“i’d pick you. he’s being a dick and i-i’d always pick you. you’re all the cheesy stuff for me. we’re two stars and two flowers and you…you’re the love of my life. i’d pick you. i just hate that he won’t let me have this thing and how we don’t get to have a big…a big cheesy family who is happy for us besides sammy, who i really love right now.” 

sukuna tucks the stray hair behind your ears, before pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“it’s not fair! we deserve people who just want to be happy for us, you deserve a good dad who isn’t a dick, i deserve one who is still here, and i’ve always wanted a big wedding and future with a warm family that…that bakes cookies for each other and shit and it just gets more and more obvious that we’ll never get to have that and it makes me angry.” 

sukuna smiles, before pressing his hands to the sides of your waist and lifting you up on to the counter. he takes residence in the spot between your legs, looking up at you with the softest of smiles. 

“i wanted to have a nice dinner where yuuji realized you made me really happy and sammy could admit that she’s bi or a lesbian or experimenting or whatever and i wanted to feel like people really loved me and were finally happy for me after everything that happened.” you add. 

you look down to find sukuna with the smallest whisper of a smile on his face and you can’t help but glare at him. 

“what are you smiling about freak?” you mutter. 

“you want a big cheesy family with me.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“i got hit in the head. let me live.” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“no take backs, angel.” 

he presses a kiss into the bare skin of your shoulder, before mumbling quietly. 

“no corny family for us, right now. but that doesn’t mean that we can’t make one for ourselves.” 

“hm?” 

“we can make our own big cheesy family. you’d be a really good soccer mom.” 

you snort. 

“you’d run a kindergarten soccer team like it was the military.” you respond. 

“damn right i would. our kid has to be the best.” 

you smile. 

“we’ll be a proper family. you have to make school lunches that every food on the fucking food pyramid in them or whatever and corny notes about how much you love them. and i’ll teach them math and attempt to not make them cry when i help them. we’ll go to shitty concerts together and pretend like it was good and i will obviously fight a snotty nosed child if they ever bother our kids.” 

you poke at his dimples. 

“we’ll rotate on good cop bad cop. i’ll pretend like i’m their favorite when we both know it’ll be you. sammy will be a wine aunt and if yuuji can stop being a fucking bitch, which he will, he’d fucking spoil them rotten.” he adds.

“why are you saying all this?” 

“we’ll make the family we want. s’no point in being upset about it when we’ll have it all. i'll make sure of it.” 

you sigh, before pushing off of the counter and looking up at him. he leans down, pressing a featherlike kiss into the pulsating bruise near your eye, before locking his hands together around your neck. 

“see the vision?” he asks.

“not really. i would hate being a soccer mom. yuuji doesn’t seem like he’s going to let up. and sammy doesn’t like wine, sukuna.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“we’ll get you there. i’ll keep convincing you till you’ll believe it, okay?” 

“are you mad i can’t see it?” 

“no. thought stuff like that was hopeless for me before i met you, so. and fighting with your best friend and hearing shit from people you want more from doesn’t make that easy. but i'll get you there.” 

he reaches forward, tracing a little x over your chest. you give him a nod, before mimicking the same motion on his heart too.

--

next part linked here

an: sometimes i wonder if this fic is ever annoying. but then I ignore it and post the chapter anyways. anyways meow the next chapter im so excited for eek

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[cyrusthedragon]

Mother of his child

Explicit ‼️ MDNI ‼️ NSFW 18+

I promised and I did: Simon sucks his wife's titties while talking about a big happy family with her.

Relationship: Simon Ghost Riley / f!Reader

Tags: porn with plot, dominance, married couple, rough sex, established relationship, breastfeeding, creampie, LOTS of dirty talk, some of spit play, LOTS of milk, LOTS of breeding, LOTS of 'mama'-calling, nasty stuff, happy family fluff for aftercare, size kink, sex after some time, no "Ghost", babying Simon.

Simon Riley really loves his wife, like... possessively. Almost obsessively.

Notes:

f!Reader gained weight after giving birth, and she has too much milk. Greedy and perverted Simon can't think about her selling her milk to people who have feeding problems. He's jealous.

You and Simon serve(d) together.

(Kinda, cuz it's funny, but not actually) Bossy!Reader in the end.

You and Simon have a newborn child.

Trigger warning: English isn't my first language, so, please, write a comment if I did a good job, I need to know if it's good, cuz I'm not really sure. But i enjoyed writing it! You can subscribe to me, I'll write a lot more about him! And I take requests, hehehe, especially most dirty ones. So. Please, enjoy ♥️

AO3

"You'll bore a hole in me..." you said under your breath, touching baby girl with just your fingertips and not taking your eyes off of her.

Simon immediately straightened his back, paying attention to the book in his hands again, and you chuckled softly:

"What's going on in your mind, baby?"

Silence in the room, only a soft melody from somewhere in the house, and the three of you sitting in your bedroom: you, feeding your precious baby girl, she, smacking from the delicious milk, and your husband, trying to pretend he's reading his book. Considering how he didn't touch a single page for the last fifteen minutes, he was either repeating that one spread or trying to memorize it all.

Or just being a pervert.

It's Simon we're talking about, no one on Earth would ever suspect him of thinking about something nasty, but... You were his wife. Mother of his child.

You knew there was something in those blue eyes of his - he looked at you exactly like that one day when you... When you decided to have a child.

You weren't, actually.

It was an accident.

But when you told him about your pregnancy and asked if you should take a Plan B, for one moment after that horrific word, he looked at you, almost shaking from nervousness, with something in his eyes that you recognized as a... Reluctance? "Yeah," he cleaned his throat, moved his gaze away because, obviously, the floor was way more interesting than a damn pregnancy test in your hands, "yes, you're right, Plan B... We shouldn't.. we should, uh...". Words have never been one of his strengths, if you were not in bed.

You looked at him trying very hard to say something, and one thing in him just matched you so perfectly, that for one second you thought maybe.. maybe...

"Can we keep-"

"What if we..."

You said it at the same time, and neither you nor he understood who was saying what, but the excitement was so loud, that you couldn't resist impulses to grab his hands. Neither could he help but stretch out his arms to you and hold you to give you a hug, even if he himself was just as terribly scared.

That shit was scary. No doubt.

It would not have been that horrifying if not for these thoughts of yours. Common.

"If we..." you heard Simon speaking, felt him swallowing loudly, "Maybe, if.. maybe we can..."

"Can keep it?" you helped, squeezing him with all your strength just to feel yourself safe. "You think we can?.."

"I think... I think I want to, but.."

"You want?"

And that was the moment when you moved away a little to look him straight in the eyes, seeking there for something you weren't sure exactly what.

"Yes?.." he answered under his breath. As freaked out as you were. Of course, he was. Both of you were soldiers, to the core. No one of you ever dares to dream about having a baby... It's a huge responsibility, and neither he nor you thought you could handle it, that's why you always used protection to minimalize your chances. It doesn't mean you didn't want to - hell yes you wanted, especially with Simon, and the more you got to know him, the better you understood he wanted this, too.

A family.

A real family, bonded with each other, someone you can hold in your hand and give all your love, all your affection, untapped awe for having something you and Simon created together. Holy hell, you married a dead man, did you think you had no strength for a little human? Just a baby? It took almost half of a year for you and Simon to finally get married, you took his last name and did it with all your patience, although the boys in one-four-one started calling you Mrs. Riley a long time before you became Mrs. Riley, and all these troubles, years of waiting for something with him, all this situationship, candy-bouquet period, all of it...for being afraid of having a child? It can't be that ha-

You were selfish.

Thinking about yourself, not your baby, who would most likely live alternately with one parent, then with the other - depending on which one of you would be called for a mission. You knew it. You knew you can have your parental leave, for twelve weeks, and, and, and...

"..ve. Love!" you shuddered - Simon rarely used to raise his voice at you, and often it was because of how easily you were distracted by thinking about something very important to you. You lose your patience when you were afraid of something. You blinked, looked up at him, and suddenly he was so calm that you were immediately infected by his calmness, without realizing it. "Breathe, love," he whispered, holding your face in his palms, so huge compared to your head. "Do you want to keep her?" and when he asked, looking you dead in the eyes, he already knew your answer, but...

You breathed out: "Her?"

Eyes to eyes, one very important dialogue without a single word between you, your shiny to his bright, deep ocean blue. "I want a girl," he whispered, not even blinking. "I want a boy", you said lowing your voice to match his, and he nodded, pulling you closer to touch your forehead with his. "Then... Let's see who it will be," Simon's lips were so close to yours, you half closed your eyes, pressed your lips into a tight line, and then closed them completely when he murmured in your mouth before kissing you full of his endless gratitude: "...shall we?"

And that was it.

You lost your little bet and were very happy about it.

The little one was happy, too, sucking milk, already ready for her beauty sleep, so beautiful, and a bit... sassy, biting your swollen nipple with per pink gums, making you hiss and chuckle softly. She had her father's shiny eyes. Your love. Your precious child.

"Simon, darling, you're staring." You finally moved your eyes from your daughter to your husband, smiled at him and he could no longer pretend he was reading his book. He wasn't. "Am I?" you heard him sighing, but his gaze started to be a little more... heavier than a second before you decided it was enough for baby girl and took her away from your chest. "Yes, darling, you are," your voice softened, small one whined, lying on the bed, twitching her hands and feet, and you giggled: "What a greedy creature... Never enough for her." But she quickly calmed down - the music changed to a comforting lullaby... You could finally get up and stretch your legs, fix your dressing gown, and move to Simon, sitting on the armchair.

"You didn't answered my question."

Baby monitor right behind your girl, and you allowed yourself to go straight to the kitchen - hungry as hell, while Simon simply followed your steps God knows why.

"What question?" He asked, watching you getting your snacks.

Bare feet, loose hair, mid-thigh gown, and the wet spots in it, right in front of your nipples. You're still leaking. And mouth-watering. And holy shit he just can't stop looking at your covered chest, how heavy your breasts are, how they freely jiggle when you're just moving. "Simon." he can't hear you, all his nature is focused there where your nipples touch your closes, these eyes are wild. You watched him, busy analyzing your chest or whatever, and didn't get yet the hell was wrong, but it's Simon, so... Whatever he was thinking about he would tell you, sooner or later.

But you didn't expect 'sooner' will be that...soon.

You turned your back to him to find something in the fridge and gasped when he suddenly lifted you, sitting you on the table, face to him. "Riley, the hell are you?!-" and then you met his eyes again.

Truly, wild.

"What? Eat your food, love." his voice was strange, he completely was strange, something just cracked in you, a blush appeared in your cheeks immediately, then he pulled back the gown and your hand trembled, accidentally dropping a snack on the floor.

He bared your chest with a face like nothing happened, and you swallowed your tongue like a proper coward, did not know how - did not want to - stop him and did not even try to interrupt whatever he was going to do. You felt the shivers down your spine - his hands on your ribs, fingertips almost tickling you, forcing you to smile, but there was nothing to smile about, just your husband being odd and making your legs shake with just his hands.

God, you didn't touch him for almost six months...

"I can't," you whispered, shutting your eyes while feeling his hand off you and somehow knowing for sure he was pulling his mask up to his nose.

"Why?" The hoarse voice of his just drove you crazy. Your brain was about to explode with this sudden satisfaction he brought to you by massaging your torso and jelly belly, and you couldn't answer properly: "Because you... What are you... Just take what you want already." You hissed, and maybe it would be fear for him to feel embarrassed by your tone and hands, hugging his head, but he did not care anymore or simply did not understand that, so he just... Did it.

You felt his wide tongue in front of your nipple.

And you inhaled.

"Simon... Simon, what are you doing, Simon..."

Your voice was less caring than you wanted it to be, and he didn't even look at you to answer: "Joining you to eat a snack."

"Oh I'm a snack now, wonderful..." words came out of your mouth before you shut it, "You little pervert, are you seriously going to su-... Oh, god."

Tongue swept all over your breast before Simon straightened up to his full height - and even though you were sitting on the table, he had to tilt his head to look at you. Giant. His gaze was much heavier than before, his pupils bigger, his brows furrowed to let you know, he was ashamed of you:

"That's how your talking to a baby, love?" Simon murmured and you did not even try to believe what you heard. He continued, seeing your confusion: "I see... I'm no longer your baby, am I?"

"Wha-.."

Oh.

'"What's going on in your mind, baby?"'

So that's what it was all about.

"You pervert," you said, watching him laying you down on the table and towering over you like he was some kind of mountain of muscles. This whole situation was quite crazy, and you swallowed, losing all your boldness just because of how dominant he became, taking your hands in his one so tightly that you couldn't move your fingers if you wanted to. Breath-taking Simon. First, you met on your first night together. A completely different person than what you usually see. His gaze was on you, examining you - how the fabric glided effortlessly over your body, showing up your ribs, tummy, chubby sides (you gained some weight after giving birth and were a little worried about it, but the way he cravingly looked at your fat...), your white panties, already wet for him. Of course, you were wet. He was between your legs, holding your hands, ready to eat you up.

"'Baby?..'" you whispered under him, trying to move your feet, but his other hand grabbed your knee abruptly and pushed it aside, leaving you completely open to him. "Don't try to hide, mama," you gasped at his words, heart started beating faster, and his head lowered to touch your belly with his lips. Soft and full. "It's nothing you need to be ashamed of.. if it's not me. Are you ashamed of me, mama?". Impossible, how he affected you with this damn 'mama' spoken by his powerful, quiet voice, "You don't need to be ashamed. Didn't you say today that your breasts are full? Don't you remember?".

You swallowed your saliva, chest up and down, and your voice cracked when Simon slightly touched underneath your filled breast, "I said we can sell it... There are many people with.. problems with.. with feeding. Simon, what are you-"

"Stop asking. You don't trust me?"

"I do, but-"

"No 'but'."

You should've said something, but when he grabbed your tit with his wide palm, compressed your nipple lightly between the index and middle fingers, everything that was in your head vanished immediately. Milk ran out over his fingers, to his wrist, and tangled in his short hair above the tattoo. "So easily, mama," he murmured, following the drop of your milk, "you're so full.. and you wanna give this to someone else? You wanna take it away from our daughter? Deprive her of that, mama? Is that what you want for her?"

You just said there's too much milk in you, useless milk, because your girl never starved, but the mere idea of giving part of you to someone who wasn't his child, just made him so, so jealous. You choked - Simon pulled your nipple with his fingers as if in punishment.

"No, no, of course not, I just wanted..."

And then the moon fell:

"You can give it to me." Your eyes widen in shock. And you saw him raise his milk-stained hand and watched his tongue follow the line from elbow to finger, licking your juice. "Sweet..." He murmured, "So sweet, so delicious..." And before you even realized, he sat you up at that table, wrapped his hand around you, and pressed his open, greedy mouth to your milking breast, moaning, like it was the best thing he ever tasted. A cry escaped your lips, you instantly grabbed his head, closed your eyes tightly - your nipples were so, so sensitive after feeding, and now he almost ate 'em. Shivers ran through your body, every cell was tense, trembling legs closed behind his back, as if locking him with a fuckin' padlock pressed against your body, yet still fully dressed. "Madman," you whined, squeezing the back of his balaclava, "you're a madman, Simon Riley, you're out of your mind...Teeth-!" Your sob forced him to let go of your chest with a loud smack, just like your baby did before, and the marks of his teeth were clearly visible on the soft, full flesh around your nipple.

"Watch your teeth- god, you-" you cried out, almost ready to hit him on the back, but then he, stooped, suddenly looked up at you, so innocent, so open, that something in your gut began to tighten. "Something wrong, mama?" He said, and you miraculously felt how his second hand was lost between your thighs. Breath didn't want to recover, he clung to you, pressing his cheek against your chest, and milk flowed out of you harder.

"No..." You answered, not sure if he's a pervert for calling you 'mama', or you for enjoying it so much, "Nothing wrong, baby... Just.. watch your teeth, okay?" Eyes to eyes, without a blink, you sucked air through your teeth and slowly put your trembling hand at his half-covered cheek, stroking until he closed his eyes, "You want to be good for mama, don't you, baby?"

"Mhm", he whispered, kissing your hand softly.

You didn't know your first sex with Simon after such a long time would be like that, but his finger, just one, was in your underwear and it pressed your clit so good, that you almost lost your mind, tilt you head back.

"I will be good for you, but I'm so mad at you..." Suddenly his voice softened and your hips tensed; his palm was fully in your panties, squeezing your cunt, pressing the middle finger to the entrance.

"Why mad, baby?.."

"I'm so mad you want to give yourself to someone else, mama," and when he opened his eyes, his finger entered you on the first finger phalanx, you hold your breath and bit your lip - you forget how big his fingers were, one of his like two of yours, and there was no lubricant, just your sloppy juices. Every tiny scar on his finger was fully felt, every callus, every cut. "You wanted to share yourself with hell knows who. That's how you feel about us, love? Is that it? Instead of giving everything to your, to my child, our child, you were going to.. what?" finger thrust further, you gasped, he pressed you into himself tighten. One small kiss to your neck and you already was useless, when he lifted you again and whispered in your ear while carrying you to the couch and putting you on his thighs so that you could lay down on him completely naked.

You don't need clothes, do you?

"You were going to waste it, love." He continued. "Instead of calling me, your husband, to help you."

"Help me with what?.. sucking this milk?.."

"Exactly, love."

You would've chuckled, but then there was a crack and your torn panties fell to the floor.

He tore them on you.

Animal.

"Beast..." You whispered, putting your head on his shoulder and feeling him squeezing your tits once more with both his hands.

"Me?" Simon's soft laughter was almost unbelievable, "No, no... I'm not. You are. A little cow, mama. Leaking your sweet milk. Just like a cow. Allowing me to drink it..." he pressed his face into your chest, threw you back, milk splashed from your nipples and hit him right on the balaclava, "What a mess you are. You're looking? Look carefully." fingers squeezed one nipple, twisted, pulled, milk splashed in all directions, flowed all over your chest and down to your torso, and his hands, warm, making you whine and mumble in pain in half with pleasure, just like a cow. "Oh love, and not just here. Don't take your eyes off, watch how wet you are, you ruined my clothes," his second hand went down to your groin, suddenly you wanted to cover yourself, but his middle and index fingers had already opened your vulva, revealing his hungry gaze your lower lips. "Look at you, you're soaking, mama... Do you hear it? That's your sound."

The sloshing of your juices as he circled around your entrance, the crackling of his clothes as you squeezed his shoulders, your whimpering as he purposely ignored your hard clit - all this cacophony was his symphony for your ears, and only yours.

"You sound so well, love..."

"Simon.. Simon, please, Simon..."

"What 'please'?"

"Simon, please, I want to kiss you..."

"Kiss me then."

"No! No! Please, Simon, I want to kiss you so bad... Please let me just-" and your shaking fingers touched the edges of his balaclava, throwing aside.

Scars.

Scars all over his face.

His bright eyes, his short blond hair, and all these scars made him look way older than he was. Breath-taking Simon.

You couldn't resist the impulse to praise him like he always secretly loved:

"You're so beautiful..." Fingers ran over his cheeks, cheekbones, brows, nose, lips, so kissable, you pressed your mouth to his with a hiss, feeling Simon again in you with his whole finger. "Damnit, baby..." You said, silencing him by taking his tongue with yours.

His hand on your ass, his finger fucking you, so tight girl, he loves feeling your walls around him, up and down - you got up on him, fucking yourself with his finger, and lowered to feel how he put his second finger to your entrance. Your breath hitched as he broadened your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside. Juices sloshing, his panting against your neck, his other hand gripping your ass so hard it threatened to bruise it, and his fingers fucking you like he was re-examining you - twisting the hand, pushing in, speeding up and massaging your inner lips and your clit, making you moan so loud, thank god rooms were soundproof. "I want to be inside you so bad, mama..." You heard him, hissing in your skin, biting it with his sharp teeth, you could've just hugged him tighten, "So wet, so delicious, look at you, how beautiful you are, ready to carry my second child...are you ready, mama?"

"Second child?.." you whispered barely audible, eyes watering from his aggressive pounding, and almost whining when the sound of unfastening the belt reached your ears and the cold steel of its plate touched your hot skin.

"Of course," and he didn't even stop pounding you, that dirty pervert; pulled his boxers down, letting the cool air touch the head of his cock. Red, wet head. Big. Thick. You didn't have to look at it to instantly lower your palms down and, howling like a wild dog, grab his cock with your both hands. "Fuck, love..." He cursed, clutching your ass, "You missed me, huh? Did you?"

"I did, I did, so much, baby, so much..." your trembling voice, your confident hands stroking his already hard fat dick, your cunt, shrinking from the memory of how sweetly he filled you that last time before your pregnancy... You, cock-drunk, beneath him, full with his thick hot sperm and covered by it all over your body - your ass, your vulva, your belly, your face; he came so much then, it was your first night together after you both returned from your mission. And now you can have it again... Finally.

"Pink on your cheeks suits you, love," he murmured, stroking your cheek like you did with his, "but I prefer your tears..." and before you even understood, his tongue already was on your face, licking off salty tears, mumbling, moving his hips to you while you jerked him off. "Everywhere... Wet everywhere... Did you always have been such a dirty fat slut?.. Crying, milking, soaking... I can eat you alive. Show me your mouth," he took his hand off your butt, roughly opened your mouth, looked, "Oh, I see... Would you mind, if I-"

And you felt his saliva on your tongue before Simon finished his sentence.

"There you go, such a good girl..."

But he didn't even think about letting you swallow his spit, and while you were trying to get back into rhythm, drunk on his saliva, he threw you onto the sofa, covering you from above, like a goddamn wall: "No, no, don't close your mouth." An animal, a real beast, twice your size, towered over you, mocked you, deprived you of his fingers and you could only helplessly scratch his hands near your head and push your pelvis in him, trying to somehow sit on his cock with your pathetic leaky pussy. "Don't close your mouth, you don't want me to fuck you, mama?" Sly bastard, so different, so cold, so soft for all of them, role model, best fighter, squad pride...Made fun of you, so turned on. You nearly hated him for this, but couldn't deny how you loved him above you.

"I want," trembled lips parted, saliva flowed slowly down your tongue to its root, your heavy breath was the only music for him.

"You want? Then be good for me, and I'll be good for you, mama, your good, good baby boy, mama... I would be anything for you, open your mouth, open it, let me fill you everywhere, will you, please?"

You barely had time to grab his short hair when he pressed his mouth to your mouth, but your tongues did not touch each other, you only shared your breath with him, as you always did, and when the tip of his fat cock touched your entrance, you held your breath, feeling how, along with his length, ripping you apart, widening you, inch by inch, he poured into you also his spit. Thick saliva - that's how hungry he was for you, his mouth was full of this viscous liquid.

"Good mama," words were hard for you, he closed his eyes, stopped at how tight you were, grabbed your leg, and slung it on his belt, thrusting deeper into you. Each vein on his long cock, each brought so much pleasure to extremely tight you... It was nearly impossible to move, but he always was stubborn and even when the drop of sweat ran over his neck, he continued entering you, sadistically slowly. "Relax for me," he almost begged, and you whispered:

"I've already..."

"So that's how tight you actually are, then, huh?" Seems Simon was starting to lose patience, fingers of one hand pressed on the upholstery of the sofa near your head, the second he squeezed your breast as if in revenge: "I almost forgot how it's like...when you're not in the shape of my cock." he sucked in air through clenched teeth, staring into the tears in your eyes, like he wanted to lick them again, "But it's okay..." He continued, thrusting you exactly to halfway of his cock, "We have plenty of time to make you perfect for me again, love. It's okay. I'll fuck you 'til you'll be open for me every time I want to fill you with my cum. You like my cum?" you cried, his heavy hand gave a slap on your ass, "Of course you do... Mama's such a slutty thing, she's always ready for me to cum in her, give her so much of my sperm, so she can give birth to our future big family."

"Big..." You whined about how he was ripping you with his dick, demonically slowly to the very core, to the root. You felt the warmth of his full, heavy balls, as he promised, filled with his cum just for you, and your back arched in an unthinkable angle, as soon as you felt the coarse hair on his groin.

"Yes, love, big family," and even his mumbling reached you with difficulty, you suffered on him, scratched him, beat, squeezed him with your legs, wriggled like a snake, and he hung over you, indestructible, like a rock, tried to take a breath from the pain in the cock. "Me, you, our children, so many children..."

And there was the first thrust.

Right on the nerves.

Until the pitiful cry and eyes rolled back.

Big, big, big-

So fucking big-

"What, you can't handle me anymore?" his hoarse rough voice came from above and your body shook as he thrust into you and slap your thigh, leaving the big red shape of his five fingers. "How you're going to have my children then? Be the mother of my babies, raise 'em, feed 'em with that delicious milk of yours-" Simon compressed one of your nipples again and you choked on a scream as the milk spurted freely up. "Dirty, dirty mama..." Was his only response.

And he fucked you.

To the cries, putting all his strength into you, moaning loud and clear, just like you love, forcing you to beg for his cock, but already fuckin' you, watching your tits jiggle and milk splash everywhere, spoil his clothes, get on your cheeks. To legs shaking, to an exhausted body, growling in your face how much he's going to cum in you so that you burst from his sperm, pregnant with his children, forever, for your whole life, so everyone, every fucking single one from everywhere could see whose are you, who you belong to. This belly, squishy and fatty, this face, these tits, hips, legs, feet, mouth, this milk, and other juices, these eyes, beautiful, beautiful eyes, these delicious lips, this heart and soul - all, all for him and his children, all for the Riley family, all of it for them and no one else, no one fuckin' else. You're trapped here, you're never gonna leave this man and his child, you belong to them with your whole being, you understand that? Do you, mama? Do you understand there's no escape, he would fight Death if that sucker would ever allow himself to at least think about taking you away from Simon; he would fight Death, and he would kill it because no one has the slightest right to take even a piece of you from him.

"Mine," he groaned, sinking his fangs into your neck, suddenly grabbing you by the waist and lifting so that you sat on his cock as tightly as physically possible, and kept fucking you, beating out from you every moan, every deep scratch your nails left on his shoulders as you bathed his neck with your tears. Pressed into each other, like two halves of a whole, crazy, lost in each other, interwoven, and you won’t understand where you begin and he ends. Your cunt hurts, but the pain is so sweet that you're not sure you want to cut it, you're not sure you want him to stop, to be more gentle, not pounding you like a fucking hammer, and the angle is so right - you can feel not just his dick deep inside you, but how your clit is stimulated by him, his rough movements. Oh, this beast, this madman, this insane man... So insane just for you. You cried out, moaned: "Simon... Simon! Simon!" as if it was the only thing you remembered in your life, and the rubbing of your bare nipples against his outer clothing forced you to snuggle closer to him and at the same time as if trying to get away from him.

He was no longer there, he was all inside you, thrusting you like it was his last day, angry, but carrying you so perfectly that you could've let yourself lay on him, and you knew he would never let you fall.

"Simon, Simon, listen, listen to me, please-" your trembling voice almost vanished in all these sex sounds, but he pushed you closer (there was no 'closer') and you simply whined: "Simon, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum, I'm going to- I want to cum so bad- please, Simon, I wanna cum, I want you to cum, please, cum with me, please-" Your fingers pulled back his hair. You yourself pulled back, arched in your back, and instantly your muscles contracted on his cock, forcing him to fall, falling with you on the soft sofa. A little more and he would've crushed you with his weight, but with a desperate groan he managed to grab your hands and, lacing your fingers together, lean on them to hang over you, not for a second slowing down the speed of his deep, passionate thrusts.

Your useless legs struggled to stay on his lower back, your breasts were shaking painfully and you felt the blessing of heaven when he clung to you, pressed, as tightly as it was physically possible, and instantly squeezed you in both his hands. "Cum for me," he moaned in your ear, his veiny cock almost touched your uterus, but it seemed that if he wanted to, he would fuck your womb just to impregnate you. "Cum for me, mama, let me see how happy you are to be pregnant for me, just for me, showing people how you love me, scream, mama..."

Heavy breathing, deep unforgiving pounds, bursting cock, burning heart, nails scratching his strong broad back, ribs compressed with iron arms - and you, so tiny compared to him, you, so little, so fragile looking in his arms... were ready for anything for this man. "Cum for me," he ordered, grunted, and you tensed on him, squeezed him with all your might to his own loud moan, and tears gushed from your helplessly rolled eyes. His moans, low but beautiful, just for you, were the only thing you heard in your petite mort.

And his seed filling you, hot, thick, was the only thing you felt.

The maddening feeling of being filled with rich cum, his cum, your husband's, your man's, drove you to a silent scream, to open mouth from which no sound came out, and saliva flowing down from the edge of your mouth only to dry on your cheek when you tilted your head back. And as if boiling sperm in you, poured into your insides.

"Greedy mama..." you didn't even come to your senses when you focused your blurred vision on Simon overhanging you, cupping your wet cheek with his large hand. His quiet, purring voice settled in your head like a gooey honey. You could nearly discriminate his words. Not understanding what was happening around, hearing only his voice and feeling only him in you, you were like gutted and thrown into the light while his sweat dripped on you from above, and his heavy breathing only miraculously did not blow you away. "Just like that..." Even his voice cracked, this man couldn't resist the devil, and mumbled inaudibly: "So good for me... So good... Such a good girl..."

Hot seed in you, his weight on you, his warmth all over you, his loud breath and your inner muscles tightening and loosening around him while he, overstimulated, continued moving in you, also overstimulated, and the movements were so...gentle ... So soft... His soft pounds, his smooth swings, almost like trying to rock you, but that orgasm was so blinding, you couldn't breathe, you couldn't concentrate on the outer world, just him and his hands, his hips between your legs, his balls tightly pressed to you, his cock inside you completely... So... Soft... Hot... Your body temperature was almost past its peak... And that gentle touch Simon gave you on your belly, lying his head on your shoulder.

After what he did, you barely remember how carrying he was... This big softie...

"You..." your hoarse voice sounded like you hadn't spoken in at least ten years, there was fuckin' Sahara in your throat, and your eyes couldn't even close from the experienced orgasm, "What you just... What you... Wha-...."

Tied tongue refused to obey.

You literally could not utter a word, only mumbling something incomprehensible.

Boneless.

Dry out.

Dehydrated.

The son of a bitch literally sucked all the juice out of you.

"Si..bl... Bml... Ah......"

And when he, as exhausted as you, pulled away to kiss you on the pink hot cheek, after all, that he had done, you nearly could look at how calm he was.

"You alright, love?"

Blue eyes glanced at you in slight worry, he stroked your wet hair, raised himself with both hands to look at you, but you could not take your eyes off him. You stared at him in disbelief or shock - doesn't matter, you just experienced the nastiest sex in your life, and he was so calm, so confident, like nothing happened, like it was a daily basis for you - being fucked 'til semiconscious state while your husband was 'mama'-calling you and sucking your tits, and, holy shit, did that really-

"Do I..." You swallowed, looking him dead in the eyes, without a single blink. "Do I look like I'm alright?... Do I?... And what happened with 'mama', baby?.. what happened with 'mama'?" suddenly your voice became demanding, insistent, from somewhere you found the strength to weakly hit him in his rock-hard shoulder, and Simon's eyes flashed with shame for a second, then he moved them from you, almost trying to hide, while leaving your core and sitting on the edge of the sofa at your useless boneless legs still shaking from whatever the hell that just was.

He inhaled, "I..."

"Shut up." and he closed his mouth instantly, staring at the floor, even before he heard properly what you said. "You sucked my milk."

"Um..."

"I said shut the fuck up- You just- where are my pills?"

"What?"

The slight surprise in his voice almost pissed you off and it was funny how he almost trembled with fear and tried to shrink under your gaze: he, that behemoth of a man, two meters tall, mountain of muscles, Lieutenant, a brave soldier of the Queen, Chain Dog of Captain Price and Commander Lasswell, trembling under your gaze, your, women half his height, twice as weaker than he ever was, furthermore, unable now to even wake up on her own, move her limbs, he was fuckin' scared-

Indeed.

You did have power over him.

"My pills." You barely raised your voice and he already was on his feet, pulling on his pants and trousers, looking for your plan B.

You watched him, nervously seeking after them, making as much noise in the bathroom as he would never make on a battlefield, and you could almost see his shaking hands turning the whole room upside down.

"We're gonna have a nice long talk about all of it," you heard yourself surprisingly serious, when he came to you with a glass of water and your medicine, helping you, holding your head for you to drink, "we gonna..." you swallowed the pill from his hands, drank all the water from the glass without taking your eyes off him, and exhaled loudly as he kissed your cheek after.

"We're gonna?.." he echoed you and you saw him squatting down next to the couch, against your head, so you could lie down and look him straight in the eyes without getting tired.

"We're gonna clear up your... This. Simon."

"Mhm?"

"Eyes on me."

"They already are, ma'am."

You could've laughed, because he never called you that unless you were extremely serious about small things in your life, no one ever saw him mocking you, or smiling like this, widely and openly, but there were topics you wanted to discuss before admitting that both of you were total perverts, and nothing would even help you clean your conscience from it.

To be fair, you didn't actually want.

You knew he was more playful, more... Different when you were alone, there were demons inside his pretty blonde-haired head, that was true, you knew the man you married, and he never was such a jealous person without any reason, and... You didn't know how, but you were sure this talk about 'sharing with someone else' wasn't just... Dirty talk. There was something else deep inside.

"You're thinking too loud, love," you heard him hawed it out and then felt his strong hands on your aching legs. "Again."

"I'm just... You know what?"

"Mm?"

"We... We should..."

"We should?.."

"We should... Holy hell, Simon... You..."

"I was serious about what I said, love."

Boom.

You tilted your head, met his eyes, moving from your legs to your face.

His deep and at first sight as if almost naive eyes.

"About?..." You whispered, feeling something strange growing inside you with every second he was looking deep into your soul.

Nasty, nasty soul.

"About having a big family." you felt his gentle kiss on your ankle, his head relaxed near your feet, he mumbled, "We already have one pretty girl... I want more. I want... I want to come home... And see a hoard of children running to me... Meeting me... And you... And then I'll sit with them, and you will work, and, imagine... Coming home, where there'll be a bunch of kids, siblings, maybe playing with each other, or arguing, or... Else. Our little world."

"Our little world..."

Unbelievable.

Dreamy, absorbed in his fantasies, soft, affectionate Simon. Telling you about that.

"Even if we could... What if something goes wrong?.." you couldn't resist your fears, not for yourself, but for hypothetical children. "What if... We won't be able to give them what they deserve?.."

And suddenly he smirked:

"I'm not telling you making a second one right now, am I?" your eyes met, your uncertain, and his, surprisingly romantic. "I'm just... Maybe we shouldn't stop at just one. She needs a friend. We were able to do so many things. I will buy a big house somewhere in the middle of nowhere..."

"With a garden and greenhouse?"

"Yep. I will arrange the area. Maybe we can have cows?"

"And chicken."

"And chicken. And..."

And you completed his sentence without looking at him, just knowing what he would say:

"...and have a daydream house with white picket fence and a golden retriever..."

"I prefer Alsatian."

There was something wrong with this man. Who was without a drop of doubt thinking that you two, and now with the third little human, can have that unrealistic happy lovey-dovey life.

Scarred soldiers, hardly married, only a year ago trembling from fear because of the thought that you would have a child in your house, such an irresponsible thing to do- and- and- now-

Now he was saying you can have more, can take responsibility for more people, more little ones- where were the guarantees that he would not die in the field? where were the guarantees that you would not be killed? where there were guarantees that you could become good parents, raise good children, fulfill your duty to them, and remain happy, not break down, challenge life, who stubbornly told you over and over again that you weren't made for this, you simply cannot have this, this isn't for you, and-

There really was something wrong with him.

And maybe, only maybe, there was something wrong with you, too.

Because you believed him.

You believed him with all your being, you trusted him, you knew he would never betray your trust, he would do more than everything to keep his promises, you knew the word "family" wasn't just a sound for him, and you became his family, he did not just wanted kids and that shitty house, fuck it, that wasn't about the house.

All of that was only about you.

Making family with you.

Having kids with you.

Introducing you as his wife, being a father to your kids, calling you the mother of his kids, knew exactly that is your and his blood running in their veins, that's your common children playing in the garden.

And in his face, which for some reason everyone finds impenetrable and dispassionate, you read so much that your heart breaks, your breath hitches, your pulse skips a beat:

Simon Riley doesn't want this house without you. He doesn't want kids without you. He doesn't want any white picket fence, no garden, no greenhouse, nothing without you. It's all is just meaningless for him, if it's without you.

You are that one thing that makes him believe he's unstoppable. You're that one person for whom he wants to try, despite fully understanding how hard, almost impossible it will be. Definitely will.

The man will move mountains just for you.

He would fight Death, and he would kill it just for you.

That's truly crazy.

But once again, if he's crazy, then you are too.

"Okay..." your quiet voice sounded in the silent room, only the cozy melody accompanying your words. "Alsatian it is."

It took a second, stretching for years, for him to slowly, with the grace of a well-fed tamed predator, get up from the floor and lean towards you, giving you the most tender kiss you have ever felt.

Delicate as silk, sweet as chocolate, a touch of love.

All his feelings for you couldn't fit in one kiss. But he needed to try.

And as soon as you relaxed, trusting yourself to his strong, safe arms, loud baby cries came from the baby monitor.

Damn.

Simon pulled away from you with a quiet "Don't move, I'll go get the Princess" and you couldn't help but giggle when you heard him open the door to your bedroom and start talking like an idiot, cuz she just loved when he was goofy around her.

In one second, promises to make you perfect for his fat cock again, and in the second after that, rocks your common child while making hilarious noises to pacify her.

"Simon!" And when he, rocking your tiny Princess, looked out from behind your bedroom door, you said helplessly, unable to remove the silly smile from your face, "I love you, baby."

His gaze softened.

"I love you, too, mama."

Oh, this man...

Oh this man!

[impyssadobsessions]

DP x DMC interaction

haha okay so i have an interaction idea for my dmc and dp crossover with Patty and Danny with how they meet. (probably be only for me but hehe >w<) Danny after being stranded in dmc world, is living with Dante and being a part-time employee. They specify part time since he's still a minor. (just by a year and that's not even fully correct just easier to keep same birthday due to time shenanigans... Danny mostly upset because he was a four months away and now he has to wait eight. Not important just thought it be funny for Danny to fuss over it a little.) Dante is off on another gig not long after Danny starts crashing at his place. Danny had just gotten his citizenship started thanks to Morrison, and now settling in. He's borrowing Dante's clothes and cleaning up the place (since its still a mess from last Dante was there despite Lady n Trish having dropped in while he was stuck in underworld ) Imagine Dante actually giving Danny his better clothes, and they're baggy on Danny. Nero and Nico having promise to drop by at the end of the week, tying off loose ends to take Danny in for a bit.

Anyways. So Danny just finding something to do, since he isn't in a school ( and he doubts he will), and the business is slow, so he cleans the place. He gets it looking really nice and clean. That's when Patty drops in, expecting to go give Dante a piece of her mind for not checking in or answering her calls ( she's just worried about the geezer) then is shocked when she walks into the place and its SPOTLESS. And there in the middle of the office is someone in Dante's clothes but clearly not Dante. Which she exclaims in shock. And Danny, being Danny like.. uhh yeah I know. Need me to take a message? Wondering why a girl closer to his age looking for Dante. Did she have a job for them? Patty just shocked but then bombarding Danny with questions, suspicious of him. Which Danny just holding his hands like AHH chill chill =w=''' Then Danny explains the situation. Patty still suspicious if not a bit jealous or at least upset Dante never told her. Danny explaining how its pretty new. That's when someone else comes in fretting with an actual Job request. Immediately distraught when hearing Dante isn't in. Danny saying he can take the shift if its nearby- but the guy not wanting to hear it. Dismissing Danny before even knowing him, crumbling into the floor wailing. That's when Patty jumps in both curious of Danny's ability, while also not wanting anything to discourage going to Devil May Cry for services (pride in Dante's business). Patty convincing the man in almost scary manipulative way. She also insists on accompanying them. Danny learns more about Patty on their way over, she driving him up to the spot. Patty learning a little bit about Danny too. He goes into the infested manor, only to turn out the guy was the reason it was infested having made a deal only to turn tails... on more than one demon. Danny gets roughed up, still trying to get a hang of his limitations and powers here, but still manages to pull off a cool fight- especially if Patty ends up in direct line of fire. He sends all the demons packing. Leaving the asshole who started this mess, who tried not to pay them. Making a fuss about the destruction of the mansion, and how long it had taken Danny, as well as letting the demons get too close to him. (They never touched him) Patty is the one to give the guy hell, as well as scare him into paying Danny with bonus. Mentioning how upset Dante would be learning that he jibbed his son, and how next time a demon be hunting him down he won't be able to call on DMC for help. Danny's a bit shocked but pleasantly so with how fast the guy changes his tune as Patty offers to drive Danny out to get milkshakes, since they just got paid. "We?" "I did the negotiating, so I'll be taking a cut. Dante won't mind. uwu C'mon, I'm going to show you all the best hang outs around town. You're going to love them." Thus starts Danny and Patty hanging out. >w< Patty tries not to show it, but she was very impressed at how Danny handled things. Yeah he's not as cool as Dante, but he had his own flare. Plus he's closer to her age.

I did a doodle on paper too =w=' I was going to do something epic and cool but uh... nothing came to me

also a repost of this so you can get a better look at their designs.

[syaolaurant]

Hogwarts Legacy inspired me to draw and have fun joining fandom again 

Warning: Long!!! and this is just my random talk.

I've been using this account for 3 years now (may be 4, I don't remember correctly). I created this blog mostly for posting my The Arcana fanart, and get to know very talented artists/writers and their Apprentices. That time was super fun, joining a fandom helped my drawing/water-coloring skill improve a lots. And another reason why I was so active at that time is because I was in a long-distance relationship, I didn't have much to do after work except playing games and draw, haha, like everyday. 

And then after 8 years of dating we broke up, because I could not leave everything behind and come to Australia to live with him without marriage. I quitted my job at a travel agency after the covid 19 second outbreak in Vietnam. Anyway, that is when I lost my willing to draw. I still logged on Tumblr thou, occasionally, but I just didn't have the feeling to hold my brushes again. At the same time Nyx Hydra was acquired by Dorian, The Arcana is not the same anymore. I still love the original story but I refuse to play the new stories on Dorian app. The fandom friends I know on Tumblr also deactivated. So I stopped drawing & left the fandom for almost 2 years.

Still I was lucky, early 2021 I found a new job in gaming industry, and met my husband there. It didn't take us several years to decided to get marriage. Last year was super busy, and I still play games, like alots. Genshin Impact, Baldur Gate 3, Red Dead 2, Tiny Tina's Wonderland...They're wonderful, but none of those ignited my willing to draw again. I couldn't explain , I tried to make fanart but always left the piece unfinished...

Until last month my husband bought me Hogwarts Legacy.

I've known about the game since its release, but didn't purchase it until this year due to my personal schedule and I wanted to finish other game first. Playing HL is different, like I see my 15 year old self stepping into the world I wish I could be there but couldn't. I was so excited! So many time I ran around the castle (casting revelio repeatedly and) shouting to my husband about how beautiful the environment is. And I met Sebastian, I thought he's cool but still didn't pay much attention on him until he took me to Felcroft. And all the shadow questline, all the lost and tragedies, the unfinished ending (why Avalanche?). So it has been decided, I wanted to be a part in this fandom, there are so many things could have been added in the game but the dev decided to throw them away, I needed to pick up my pencil and brushes.

And I'm glad I did. It's been 2 years since I joined a fandom and I almost forgot how fun it is. I've met so many nice artists who warmly welcomed me, and whose fanarts are too good that push me to improve my own drawing. I've read many beautiful fanfics that made me sobbing and giggling. It's like I've found the feelings I lost, and I want to thank you all for that.

Damn this post is too long already....

What I tried to say is, I don't know how long I will be here until my personal life pull me away again. But right now I'm on fire and I'm happy HL took me back here. After all I appreciate seeing you guy's contents everyday, and your nice comments whenever I posted something on Tumblr. I hope you don't mind if I post everything on this blog not only HL but also abit of my personal life, I just don't see the need to create another side ones. To end this post, here's the view from my company windows :"D

[foundtherightwords]

As the Sun Will Rise - Chapter 3

Pairing: Grunauer (Overlord) x OFC, Beauty & the Beast retelling

Summary: After losing most of his unit in a disastrous D-Day mission, Derwin Grunauer returns to his hometown near Miami, body riddled with scars and heart heavy with guilt, only to find his neighbors shunning him due to his German name. He retreats into his family mansion and remains there, unwilling to rejoin the living, until the day Alba Reyes turns up at his door with a basket full of warm bread. As the daughter of a Cuban immigrant, Alba knows something of being an outsider, and when she offers to work for Derwin as his housekeeper, it is not only to pay off her father's debt to the Grunauers, but also because she feels some connection to the reclusive young man. When that connection develops into something more, they must overcome both the town's prejudice and their own doubts to find happiness.

Chapter warnings: none

Chapter word count: 3.8k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Chapter 3

On Monday, Alba armed herself with a mop, a broom, a copious amount of dust cloth, and various cleaning fluids, powders, and waxes, packed into the basket of her bike and strapped along the frame. Papi offered to drive her, but she refused. Mr. Grunauer may not welcome another intrusion. Plus, she had the sneaking suspicion that Papi wished to check out Grunauer, to make sure that she was safe while working there. Grunauer may find that offensive. She didn't want him to feel like he was being scrutinized and have a reason to turn her out even before she could start.

Beatriz had protested having to man the counter alone, of course, but Alba knew, deep down, her sister was glad for a chance to prove herself to Papi. For her part, Alba was only too glad to get out of the hot, cramped bakery. She rode her bike down the lane toward the Grunauer place, delighting in the coolness of the swamp, where the sweltering heat could never quite reach. The message that Frank delivered on Sunday had been a pleasant surprise; then again, she was quite confident in her sandwich. Nobody could resist a Cubano from La Perla del Sur.

As she rounded a corner, Alba almost crashed into Grant's Aston Martin, which was blocking the lane, its red paint incongruous amongst all the greens. Grant himself was lounging on the hood, surveying the swamp with a pair of binoculars. Alba squeezed her brakes, mumbling a curse under her breath. She couldn't turn back now—he had caught sight of her and was lowering the binoculars with his usual arrogant smile, and with all the burden on her bike, she couldn't lift it over his car. She was stuck.

"Fancy meeting you here, Allie," he said. "Out on a morning ride?"

"Not everybody has as much free time on their hands as you do, Mr. Grant," Alba replied. "I'm on my way to work, if you must know."

"Doing what?" Grant eyed her cleaning supplies with distaste. "Cleaning?"

"Yes, I got a job as a housekeeper... at a hotel," she said, to just get him out of her way.

Grant raised an eyebrow. "What hotel made you bring your own cleaning stuff?"

Mierda. Grant may be a heel, but he wasn't a fool. "Would you move your car, please?" she said, trying to change the subject. "I'm late."

Grant didn't move. He looked down the lane, where it merged into the shadows of the swamp, and seemed to put two and two together. "I see that the bakery truck has been going to the Grunauer place quite a lot lately," he said.

"What's the big deal? Mr. Grunauer is our landlord."

"You don't know what he did during the war, do you?"

The last thing Alba wanted was to give Grant more attention, but at the same time, her curiosity was piqued. "I heard he was a medic," she said cautiously.

"He killed someone, you know."

Alba rolled her eyes. "There was a war on, in case you've forgotten, Mr. Grant. People killed each other all the time."

"No, not a Jerry. He killed someone on our side. In his unit."

This stopped Alba in her tracks. She stared at Grant. "Really?"

Grant smiled, smug now that he'd gotten her attention. "Yeah," he said. "It was on D-Day. His whole unit was killed. He was the only survivor. Isn't that suspicious?"

"No, not at all," she managed.

"They said it was friendly fire, though I have my doubts. But again, it was chaos back then. With all that fighting going on, it was easy to lose one's head."

To hear him speak, one would think that Grant had personally stormed the beach at Normandy and liberated every man, woman, and child of France, though Alba knew for a fact that he'd been stationed at Gibraltar at the time, enjoying a cushy assignment at the supply depot.

"Why are you telling me this?" Alba said, narrowing her eyes.

"Just looking out for my girl, that's all." Still leering at her, Grant moved his car an infinitesimal amount, just enough for Alba to squeeze through. She got on her bike and pedaled away without bothering to thank him.

Despite her effort not to let Grant get to her, Alba couldn't put his story out of her head. Could it be true? Was that why Grunauer never went out—not because of his scars, but because of the guilt? She didn't believe he was a stone-cold killer, but he seemed to have a bit of a temper. And if he had killed a fellow soldier, accidentally or not, and he found out that she knew... What would he do? For the first time, she realized the risk she'd put herself in. She was going to spend almost a whole day with a man she knew nothing about, in an isolated house, in a remote part of town.

It was with a certain quiver in her heart that Alba arrived at the Grunauer place. She unloaded the cleaning equipment and supplies and staggered into the house with them. Only Otto's joyful bark and his rough, wet tongue lapping at her arm in greeting jolted her out of her fearful reverie and restored some of her cheerful mood.

"Hola, Otto," she said, scratching his huge head. "I'm happy to see you too."

"Good morning, Miss Reyes," a voice said. Alba looked up to see Grunauer standing at the foot of the staircase. She peered at him, as if she could tell whether he was a killer or not just by looking, but all she could see was that sadly damaged face. At least he'd made an effort to shave today. He started to walk toward her, moving with difficulty—his left leg appeared quite stiff, something she hadn't had a chance to notice in their last two encounters.

She crossed the hall toward him, to save him the trouble. "Good morning, Mr. Grunauer," she said. She wasn't sure if she should shake his hand or not. "Please, call me Alba." He didn't reply. "Thank you for—" She was going to say "for the opportunity", only it sounded too formal, too rehearsed, like she just got interviewed for a job. Well, this was a job, wasn't it? "Thank you for this," she finished lamely. She tried to put on an eager look. "Where do you want me to start?"

Her question seemed to catch him by surprise. "I—I don't know. The whole house is a bit of a mess, as you can see. Everything needs attention." His hesitation made her feel a little better. At least he was as unsure about this as she was.

"How about you show me around and we'll see which room needs to be tackled first?" she suggested.

Grunauer looked uncomfortable. "I'm afraid I can't get around much," he said, indicating a cane leaning against the banisters. Alba could've kicked herself for being so thoughtless. Of course. If he had been able to get around the house, he wouldn't have let in fall into such a state. The den in the study made sense now.

"It's all right," she said cheerfully. "I'll start from the top and work my way down." She wrapped a scarf around her hair and picked up a broom. "And if I have any question, I'll just ask—"

"Miss Reyes," he interrupted, raising a hand. "I do not wish to be disturbed. Do what you have to do; there's no need to ask me anything."

"But what if I come across something that I'm not sure if I can throw away or not?"

"Just put them aside. I'll deal with them later." He started to sound irritated, so she simply nodded, and, ducking her head, she went past him and up the stairs, feeling those dark eyes on the back of her neck.

Alba went through the house, followed by Otto. Grunauer was right; it was a mess. Downstairs, there were the study and the kitchen, and a living room and a dining room, neither looking like it was in use. Upstairs was even worse. The air of neglect throughout the house was increased tenfold here. The rooms all seemed frozen in time, as if the inhabitants had just left that morning. Everything looked like it had been put down absently and never picked up again—a yellowing newspaper on a table, with the headline about D-Day splashed across the front page, a palmetto fan on a chair, an unfinished dress still in the machine in the sewing room, with a pair of fabric shears next to it. Only the thick, undisturbed layer of mold and dust over everything revealed the passage of time. This house hadn't been neglected in just the past two years; it had been in a slow decline for much, much longer than that.

The master bedroom and the nursery were the saddest of all. On the dressing table in the master bedroom, all the creams and powders and brushes were still laid out; the creams had gone dried and cracked, the powders becoming one with the dust, the bristles of the brushes missing. A woman's dressing gown was draped over the back of the chair. A pipe and a pair of glasses sat on the bedside table. It appeared that after his wife passed away, Dr. Grunauer had left her side of the room exactly as it had been, and when his son came home and found his father gone, he'd done the same for the other side.

The nursery, which was situated in a large, airy room at the back of the house with a bay window overlooking the swamp, was tidier, the bed showing signs of recent occupancy, but it was no less sad. The shelves were filled with toys—stuffed animals, their fur now patchy, a miniature sailboat with chipped paint and torn sails, a sun-faded globe—and books, hundreds of books. The door of the closet was left ajar, and when Alba opened it, she found the clothes inside were mostly for a boy, with only an open suitcase containing a few adult things. This must be Grunauer's old room. When he came back, he'd simply dropped the suitcase on the floor and gone on living in the same room he had since he was a child. It appeared to have been unchanged since he was ten years old. Where had the boy gone after that, and where had he been since?

But all these melancholy musings would not make the house clean. Alba shook herself free of them, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.

***

Derwin put down his book when he realized he'd read the last five pages or so without retaining a single word. He'd been too busy listening to Miss Reyes. It had been so long since there was a sound in the house not made by him or Otto, that even the most ordinary noise now seemed fascinating to Derwin, and he listened to them as keenly as his father used to listen to the birdcalls and other animal noises of the swamps—the pitter-patter of her feet as she moved from room to room and lugged her cleaning supplies up and down the stairs, the swish-swish of her broom across the floor, the gentle sound of her voice as she talked to Otto while she worked. It was a distraction, but he found that he didn't mind it.

Which was a dangerous mindset to have, of course. He could not allow himself to get used to Miss Reyes. She was not here to stay. Depending on the quality of her work, she might be gone by the end of the week, or, in the best-case scenario—though best for her or for himself, he wasn't sure—she would only be around for a year or so. And then she would leave, just like everybody had left. His mother, his father, his fellow soldiers. Sometimes, Derwin wondered if he was cursed, and anybody who entered his life could only pass through briefly, like ships in the night, before leaving and never to be seen again.

So, yes, it would be dangerous to get used to Miss Reyes's presence.

Still, he couldn't stop himself from listening to her, taking comfort in the noises she made, wondering what she was doing at that moment. Then, to his confusion, he heard the front door open and close, and everything went quiet. After ten minutes of silence, Derwin picked up his cane, went into the hall, and looked out the front door. Miss Reyes's bike had disappeared from the porch.

Where had she gone?

He trudged upstairs. It appeared Miss Reyes had only started cleaning his old bedroom. She had stripped the bedding and the curtains and cleaned the windows. All the toys and books had been put neatly into some cardboard boxes she'd found God knew where, and the shelves had been dusted, though she hadn't swept the floor yet. Perhaps she'd forgotten something and gone to retrieve it—though it seemed unlikely, judging by the pile of supplies she'd brought. Or perhaps she'd found something horrifying amongst his old things and decided to flee.

Sitting down on the bare mattress, he looked over the room as if he was seeing for the first time. Since he came home, he'd slept here out of habit but never noticed how it looked. There were his old toys, the sailboat he and his father used to sail on a pond in the swamp, the stuffed dog he'd carried to bed until he left for boarding school. He flipped through the books, childhood favorites that he hadn't looked at for so long. Defoe, Stevenson, Verne, Dickens, Kipling, Twain. Books of poetry by Carroll, Wordsworth, Frost, and de la Mare, some too complex for his ten-year-old comprehension, but all had sparked a life-long passion. No, there was nothing here that would repulse a person. Perhaps she had simply been overwhelmed by the sheer amount of mess and given up.

As the minutes stretched into an hour, Derwin's bewilderment and anger were replaced by despair. He'd tried to prepare himself for it, but the shortness of her stay was worse than he could have expected. She hadn't lasted even half a day. Had he done something to drive her off? Had he been too short with her, too cold, too irritable? He had no idea how he should've behaved.

He went down into the kitchen, though he knew there was nothing here that could give him a clue about Miss Reyes's departure. Otto was here, gnawing on a bone he'd found somewhere—Derwin prayed that it wasn't from some long-dead animal—and didn't seem too upset about the disappearance of a certain dark-haired young lady. Derwin sat down heavily at the table.

"It's just you and me again, boy," he said. Otto's tail gave a thump in acknowledgment.

Then the tail kept thumping, and Derwin realized Otto wasn't looking at him, but beyond him at the door. He turned around and saw Miss Reyes walking in through the back door, her arms laden with groceries.

At the sight of her, Derwin's heart gave a little jump, almost imperceptible, but any relief he'd felt at her return was immediately drowned out by his annoyance, annoyance at her for swanning off without a word, and most of all, annoyance at himself for caring so much.

"Where were you?" he asked with a scowl.

"I went grocery shopping," she said, like it was the most obvious thing. "I didn't think about it this morning, but when I came down to do the washing, I saw that the pantry and the fridge are kind of empty. There was nothing for lunch..." She trailed off, looking perplexed. "Are you angry with me?"

"You could've said something!" Derwin shouted. "I thought you'd left—I thought the work was too much for you and you'd left—or that you've changed your mind—or I've frightened you off somehow—" He hardly knew what he was saying.

She looked at him almost pityingly. "I'm sorry, but I didn't realize it would matter. You said not to disturb you," she said, and his irritation grew when he remembered that yes, he had indeed told her not to disturb him. She'd done nothing wrong. It wasn't her fault that he was jumpy as a jackrabbit and always came to the worst conclusions.

Without another word, he got to his feet and made his way to the study, where he found a blank notebook and a pencil. When he returned to the kitchen, Miss Reyes was still standing by the groceries, looking mystified and miserable.

"Here," he said, thrusting the notebook and pencil at her. "If you have a question or something to say to me, just put a note through the door of the study." She took them and tucked them into her pocket, still looking uncertain. He eyed the groceries. "And give me the bill. I'll pay you back."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," she said quickly. "It's for me as much as it's for you."

"Miss Reyes, if you're going to work for me, I'm not having you pay for your own lunch."

"So you agree to let me work here?" she said, her face brightening.

He'd spoken too soon. "Not yet," he replied, trying to scowl but failing. For some reason, it was impossible for him to maintain his annoyance when those green eyes were turned upon him.

"OK, I'll give you the bill." She tilted her head, studying him. Derwin suddenly felt like one of his father's reptiles. He looked away, avoiding her eyes.

"And next time, if something's running low, just tell me," he said. "I'll place an order at the store."

"Which store?"

"Wendell's."

She made a face. "They charge you an arm and a leg for delivery. And their produce isn't the freshest."

Derwin sighed. He knew his arrangements weren't ideal, but he had no choice. "What use do I have for fresh produce?" he said glumly. "I can't cook anyway."

"Well, you have me now," she said with a quick but bright smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Grunauer. I'm not going anywhere. The Reyes have never run away from anything, and I will certainly not be the first to do so. I'll have this house spick and span before you know it."

He nodded curtly and limped back to the study. About an hour later, the most mouthwatering smell wafted down the corridor, reaching all the way through the closed door of the study. It took all of Derwin's self-control not to run into the kitchen to see what feast Miss Reyes was cooking up—not that he could actually run. His stomach gurgled loudly. Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, a note was slipped through the bottom of the door.

Lunch is ready, it said. Would you like it in the dining room or the study?

Her handwriting was very clear and neat, without any unnecessary flourishes. Just like Miss Reyes herself.

The study is fine, he wrote back.

A moment later, there was a soft knock on the door. Derwin opened it to find a dish covered with a silver cloche—really, where does she find these things?—placed on a side table just next to the door.

Stuck to the cloche was another note, which said, ¡Buen Provecho! P/S: Once you finish eating, please put the dish on this table. I don't want an infestation of cockroaches to destroy all the lovely books you have in the study. Derwin's mouth quirked up in amusement, despite himself. Under the cloche, he found a piece of chicken, nicely browned, nestled in a bed of rice and vegetables. The chicken was so tender that it fell apart under his fork, the rice was soft and fluffy, and the vegetables sweet. It was, in short, the best meal he'd ever had.

Derwin was a little embarrassed that he'd scarfed down the chicken and rice in less than fifteen minutes. After waiting for an appropriate amount of time to pass, he returned the dish to the table, with a note saying, Thank you. On second thoughts, he added, P/S: I'm sorry I shouted at you.

The response came with the rattling of the dish: It's OK. Those two simple words were enough, and Derwin breathed a little more easily.

The rest of the day was quiet. Miss Reyes continued to work diligently, tirelessly. Otto stuck to her like glue, and often Derwin would hear her footsteps being accompanied by the clicking of the dog's claws. Derwin was glad that the dog had found someone else to hang around with; he was well aware of how tedious his own company could be. Once, a movement in the backyard caught Derwin's attention through the window, and he looked up to see Miss Reyes hanging the washing on the lines, the sheets and curtains blowing about her like clouds. When she reached the end of a line, she lifted her head to look at the frangipani tree planted by his father at the edge of the yard, which was just beginning to put out its fragrant blooms, each looking like a little swirl of cloud containing a miniature sun at its center. A lock of her hair strayed out of her headscarf to dangle over her forehead. After trying to blow it out of her face several times without success, she pushed it back in place with an impatient but well-practiced movement, and returned to the washing. She didn't see him.

As the light outside grew dim and the sky glowed red through the cypresses' trunks, another note was pushed under the door.

I'm done for the day, the note said. There's leftover chicken in the oven for your dinner. Your room is clean, so you can sleep there again. See you tomorrow.

Derwin dragged himself out of the study and went back upstairs. Yes, she had cleaned the room. The bed was made with fresh sheets, smelling of frangipani and sunshine. Every toy, every book was back in its place. For a heartbeat, he was transported fifteen years back in time, when he was ten years old, when his mother was still alive. The only things that had been moved were his clothes—his current clothes, the few shirts and pants, his one good suit, and his dress shoes had been unpacked and hung up in the closet, while his childhood clothes were carefully put away in the suitcase.

Realizing he was still holding Miss Reyes' note in his hand, he contemplated it for a moment. See you tomorrow. Those three words put a smile on his face. Then, without really knowing why, he folded the note carefully and put it in the drawer of his bedside table.

Chapter 4

Taglist: @kitkat80

[silverynight]

Underworld

<--Previous

Part XIV

"You have been invited to a celebration in the Olympus. It's tomorrow."

To be honest, the last thing Izuku expects is to be visited by the messenger of the gods that particular morning.

"I..." He's nervous; he's not entirely sure they'd want him up there because he's not actually a god.

"All Might wants you to come," Iida insists. Then, looking around as if he'd like to make sure no mortal is around, he adds: "You belong there as much as any other god does, Midoriya. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Feeling better, but also incredibly nervous at the same time, Izuku nods before beaming at Iida and giving him a hug.

"Thank you!" He says sincerely. "You're really kind! Okay, tell him I'll be happy to be there!"

Before the messenger could turn around however, Izuku takes him by the arm to stop him.

"D-Do you know which gods will be there?" The green haired demigod mumbles, turning slightly pink.

Iida puts one of his hands under his chin, like he's trying to picture the list of guests inside his head, then he stops when he actually sees Izuku's expression.

"Do you want to know if the god of the dead will be there?"

Izuku feels his cheeks like they're on fire, which is probably answer enough for Iida.

"He doesn't like that kind of stuff; I've seen him there just a handful of times and only because All Might insists."

"Oh... alright." Izuku says, trying not to look disappointed, but the truth is that he'd like to see Bakugo again. They need to talk.

"I could send him a message for you, that's basically my job," Iida reminds him and Izuku can't help but grin at his kindness.

But he doesn't want to make Bakugo feel uncomfortable or agree just because Izuku insisted. What if he doesn't want to see him now?

"No, it's okay."

For a moment it looks like Iida is going to say something else, but he suddenly nods before leaving.

That's when Izuku starts feeling anxious, because he's not sure how it's going to go, after all he doesn't know a lot of gods and he doesn't have fancy clothes. Except that beautiful dress Bakugo gave him.

Maybe he should wear that one.

Feeling suddenly nervous, Izuku starts making flower crowns appear without actually meaning to.

It's okay, everything's going to be fine. He should focus on the fact that he'll get to see All Might again and maybe Aizawa too, although he's almost sure the god of strategy and wisdom doesn't like that kind of stuff either so who knows...

***

"If this is about the annual party or celebration or whatever, you know you're wasting your time; he never attends," Mina says, but leads Iida to the throne room anyway. "Besides, he's not in the mood for anything right now, not since our Queen left."

Iida quirks up both brows at the last word, but chooses not to question it, instead he approaches directly to the throne, where the god of the dead is looking quite defeated suddenly.

Mina has told him multiple times to go pay a visit to his beloved Midoriya, but he's too stubborn to listen.

"All Might wants you to–"

"I'm not interested," Bakugo cuts him off and when Iida pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath, Mina doesn't blame him at all for looking so done with the king.

"I'm not supposed to say anything about the other guests, but..." Iida hesitates; he looks like someone who likes following rules so it must be difficult for him. "Midoriya Izuku has been invited too."

Not even trying to pretend anymore, Bakugo perks up immediately and stares at the messenger like he's suddenly way more interesting now.

"I'll be there," he blurts out to which Iida just nods. He's about to leave when Bakugo clears his throat. "Wait... did you see him? How is he? Is he alright?"

"He looks fine," Iida says, clearly reluctant to say too much about another god. Then, after having an internal battle with himself he adds: "He asked about you."

He doesn't give Bakugo the opportunity to ask more questions because he leaves immediately, mumbling something about having to deliver more invitations.

Mina watches Bakugo's expression change into something more soft and vulnerable; it's amazing what love can do to an explosive god with a difficult temperament like him.

"Do you think he misses me, Pinky?"

"I know he does."

***

His mother assures him he looks beautiful, but Izuku knows that his mother will always say that about him no matter what. At least the dress itself is cute, but it reminds him of his time in the underworld.

Still, he's not sure how he's going to get there; last time he ended up in that place someone took him.

As he reaches his field he starts getting nervous until he recognizes the dark figure getting closer to him. He beams as soon as he realizes that Aizawa is wearing the flower crown Izuku made for him; it looks good on him, even though he's wearing black clothes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm taking you to the party," Aizawa says, looking like he regrets it already.

"Really?" Izuku grins. "I thought you didn't like these kind of things."

"I don't, but someone has to make sure the problem child doesn't get in trouble," Aizawa tells him, offering his arm.

Izuku nods, immediately making himself a flower crown too before taking the god's arm.

"Besides, I have a feeling you'll need a chaperone," Aizawa says, already rolling his eyes at the thought. "Especially since your suitors will probably be there too."

"My what?"

Aizawa shakes his head, refusing to say another word about that.

Of course, that doesn't make Izuku feel nervous at all.

It'll be fine, besides, he'll get to see All Might again.

***

Next--->

Patreon

[trulybetty]

Sunday | Week In Review IX

I feel like I just wrote the last Sunday Week in Review five minutes ago and like six years ago at the same time. Short work weeks and coming off the back of vacation really do mess with your sense of time.

Another short week ahead too, Canadian Thanksgiving tomorrow, happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canucks who observe this holiday! 🧡

October has brought so many good stories to my dash that my drafts list is out of control and I still have so many good fics I haven't finished reading yet! Having said that, I've enjoyed the pause to jump in with these October x 500 prompts. It's been a jolt of inspiration/creativity that I needed.

Having said that, on with the week in review!

T R U L Y  U P D A T E S . . .

october x 500 (masterlist)

oct' x 01 - ruffled hair (joel x gn!reader)

oct' x 02 - apple scent (chiffon!dieter x bryony)

oct’ x 03 - full of colours (tim rockford x f!reader)

oct' x 04 - walks in the forest (strings!joel x reader)

oct' x 05 - autumnal (dieter x gn!reader)

oct' x 06 - falling leaves (gold rush!joel x charlotte)

oct' x 07 - chestnuts (chiffon!dieter x bryony)

W H A T  I  R E A D . . .

On Deck (One Shots) (Jack AU) by @something-tofightfor Just when I think I’ve gone through someone’s master list, I manage to find a gem and this is one of them. I have no clue about baseball, went to a game and had no idea what was happening no matter how many times someone tried to explain. However, I am 110% positive that if Jack was to explain the rules to me, I’d know him inside and out, oh and maybe a bit about baseball too. Gotta make sure those lessons get stretched out…

Bloom (Joel AU) by @penaonthestreets-javiinthesheetsThis was such a delightful opening chapter! Reader has their own flower shop, and just so happens our favourite Texan pays a visit. The characterization of Ellie almost steals the show from Joel’s meet-cute with Reader - I’m not going to spoil it, but I had to pick myself off of the floor after - just saying…

Working Title | Chapter 13 (Dieter) by @rhoorl I’m so rooting for these two! Both deserve a happy ending (in more than one sense!) and yet it seems there's those who want to bring them down or stand in their way. This update was a little angst, incredibly sweet and the last bit, well - I can't wait to read the next update!

Kinktober Day Two (Frankie) 🌶️ by @youvebeenlivingfictional I love the whole fun roleplay trop between established couples and this one does an excellent job of doing just that! Reader and Frankie are out at the bar having fun and, I'm not going to spoil it - go enjoy it for yourself!

Tip Your Server (Dieter) by @nothoughtsjustmeds This is just the best! Dieter and wife!reader on the night of his Oscar win and it’s just so much hilarity, sweetness & spice and the banter between the two is just the best. Please go read it, you won’t be disappointed, I promise! 

Kiss Me Quick (Dieter) by @secretelephanttattoo This, how I love this so! It’s a love letter to the British seaside and is told through a day at the beach with the one and only Dieter. It managed to not only invoke laughter but homesickness too. I’d go to the seaside for a stick of rock any day of the week with Dieter. 

Sofa So Good (Frankie) by @secretelephanttattoo This was cozy, domestic bliss wrapped up as tight as my fingers would be in Frankie’s hair. This was a sweet slice of life and so done so well. A perfect cozy Sunday read if you’re looking for one!

Video Nasty I & II (Joel) 🌶️ by @sin-djarin I don't think I've recovered from these two yet... Oof, incredibly hot, incredibly Joel and incredibly read-again worthy! Also provided a fun memory of mine working in a video store and will Marcus be forever associated with a poorly titled porno? Yes. Yes he will be.

Paranoid Heart (Javier P.) by @goodwithcheese This was such a great opener and introduction to our main character and Javi. Now, if you're thinking you need to watch Narcos to read this, take it from me, Ms. Truly 'I think I've watched six episodes now but can't remember' Betty, you don't need to, because Megan is so good at immersing you in her characters worlds that you'll be well taken care of. Can't wait to see where this story leads us!

A Month of Sundays(Various) by @gnpwdrnwhiskey I love each and every one posted so far! There’s something to be said about drabbles, little slices of life etc., six-sentence fics - because they’re not as easy to write as you think. There needs to be some establishing of what’s going on, and while not a resolution - something to end on. These are all great insights into some established characters and some we’ve not met before and I can’t wait to see what the rest of the month brings!

No Panties, No Problems (Frankie) by @blackfemalenerd Frankie is an A-grade menace here and, oof is this hot? Please do yourself a favour and go read it and leave your comments - because I think we all deserve some more of this Frankie!

Delta Landscaping | Chapter 7 (Triple Frontier Boys) by @rhoorl Jess really knows how to weave multiple stories and character backgrounds together and take you through from start to finish and never feel like you've missed something or added confusion. This week's installment is no different! We've got it all packed into this chapter and I don't want to spoil anything, but please go check it out!

M E M O R A B L E  P O S T S . . .

The next guest appearance on Mulefalls Court @rhoorl

the grey sweatpants revelation

hands, hands and more hands

a visual from @maggiemayhemnj that I won't be forgetting anytime soon, and this one here where I might still be on the floor from

a good Tumblr 101 + reblog etiquette post from @morallyinept

Bob's Burgers fest started by @darkroastjoel

B R O U G H T  T H E  J O Y . . .

Just how lovely this community is - this week I've had so many great interactions with equally amazing people and I'm so happy to have found a home in this little corner and appreciate every one of you who comes and interacts with my blog and me in whatever capacity 💕

F R A N K I E  C A T ™️ . . .

I missed last weeks update, so here’s an update on Frankie Cat - she’s very much settled in. She is pretty laid back as her name sake, but sometimes her tiny humans can get on her last nerves, but baby Truly #2 and her are BFF’s (mostly because baby Truly is forcing Frankie to love her, like I would the actual Frankie…)

She also has to go back to the shelter today for treatment, as she’s not 100% a Truly until her spay (which if anyone has tips for care after I’m all ears) - hopefully she doesn’t get excited and think she’s finally getting away from us… sorry Frankie Cat, you’re one of us now. Even if you do rip my feet to shit. 

T H I S  W E E K ' S  J A M . . .

Back in my Sons of Anarchy feels as I finally work my way through season seven (no spoilers or talk please, I've gone this long without a spoiler, I'd like to finish it out the same way)

Happy Sunday all! Here's to another great week! Feel free to share your favourite posts, stories, thots and whatever and never hesitate to tag me in it 💕

[heavencasteel420]

I was feeling a bit stuck on my main WIPs, so for fun I wrote a couple of lines/paragraphs for each of my other story ideas (the proper ones where I have a general sense of the story's shape, not the shitpost ideas like "Chrissy turns into a car?"). Here are the ones for my Cute/Normal story ideas:

Long

Nancy Wheeler Can't Win (no UD AU, Nancy-centric)

Sometimes, Nancy thought her life would be easier if she were dating Jason Carver instead. Not better, necessarily. She didn't like Jason nearly as much as Steve; he was kind of pompous and, although he technically looked way more like Tom Cruise, she couldn't imagine ever finding him as sexy as she did Steve. She couldn't help but notice, though, that Chrissy Cunningham didn't have to be one person on Saturday night and another on Monday morning.

Life During Wartime (companion to above, centers on Will and Jonathan)

"I can't believe I'll be the last one to get girlfriend," Mike lamented as he and Will biked home from school. It was a perfect September afternoon, neither too hot nor too cold, and the first leaves were turning yellow. "First Lucas and Max, then Dustin and Suzie, now you and Megan. I'm going to die a virgin."

"We could all still die virgins," Will pointed out. "I don't think Lucas and Max are doing it yet, and Megan and I definitely aren't. And we're not even sure if Suzie is real."

Horse Girl (Stoncy, summer 1985)

The thing about being an asshole, Steve thought, as he listlessly scooped butter pecan ice cream for a couple of sixty-something ladies, was that it took a long time to catch up with you. For instance: the thing he'd spray-painted on the theater marquee about Nancy almost two years ago. Sitting on the hood of his car outside the 7-11, he'd resigned himself to her shunning him forever. He'd even gone to apologize to Jonathan first so he could put off seeing the cold disgust on her face. Then, one month later, she'd taken him back, accepting his apology as a matter of course. Maybe that should've been his first clue that something was wrong.

It's All a State of Mind (AU where Hopper-Byers siblings are psychic carnies/confidence artists in the 1930s)

"Heather likes you," El pointed out a few days later, after they'd settled in. They were in the dining tent, digging into some beef stew. "You could get close to her."

"Keep eating and forget what Murray said," Jonathan told her, although he couldn't summon any harshness to back it up. This was the best meal that he or the kids had eaten in months. "Heather puts up with me. She doesn't want to get close to anyone, either."

Heather Holloway was an aerialist, a pert dark-haired girl who'd joined the circus to get away from a home in some ways worse than the one that Lonnie had provided him and Will. She was friendly to Jonathan, but that was probably because he'd shown no interest in getting inside her drawers.

"So you admit it," Will said smugly. "We wouldn't mind if you got married, you know. So long as we liked her.

From the High to the Low to the End of the Show (S1 AU where the teens are in their late twenties)

"Doesn't it piss you off?" Fred asked her. "That he can just waltz in and get a job because he's 'so talented,' when the rest of us had to work hard and do it the right way?" "Eyes on your own paper, Fred," Nancy said, in a chipper tone that she knew would annoy him. She agreed with him, to a point; she never would have been hired at the Hawkins Post if she'd gone to night school instead of IU. At the same time, she'd heard the other guys say that she'd only gotten the job out of pity. Fred wasn't one of them, but she was running on three hours of sleep an half a bagel, so she didn't feel like being nice. "Why would Holloway care about college? Byers has something he wants and he's willing to pay for it."

Medium

Tomorrow May Not Be Your Day (pre-S4 Jancy breakup, probably no Vecna, eventual Jargyle)

"I'm sure you'll work it out," Mom says. She smiles at him anxiously, and he knows what he should do. He should mumble agreement, accept this bit of comfort. Pay her back with white lies of his own: that the distance isn't really a problem, that she didn't kind of screw him over by moving them all across the country. That there's no reason to worry about him, because he's going to figure things out with Nancy and somehow make Emerson happen. "Yeah?" he asks instead. "What if I don't? What if this is it?" It doesn't come out as a plea for reassurance, either. That would be humiliating, maybe even futile, but at least everyone would understand what he was doing. Instead, it comes out as a challenge.

Let the Broken Hearts Stand (companion to above, Nancy's first year at college, eventual Nancy/Carol)

"Look, I was friends with Steve for, like, ten years before he ditched me and Tommy," Carol says, taking a drag off her cigarette, "but he was definitely the bigger asshole in your relationship." Nancy laughs, startled. Carol grins uncertainly, then offers her the cigarette. She accepts. "Like, whatever, you're a totally embarrassing drunk, and you didn't have the balls to dump him until you were sure you had Byers eating out of your pussy, but--" "Jesus Christ, Carol," Nancy said, turning bright red, but Carol waved her off. "Fine. Va-gi-na. Lady garden. Cavern of feminine wonders. Whatever Emily Post says to call it." Carol cackled as Nancy struggled to look disapproving. "My point is, he was also a fucking prick."

How Will You Make It on Your Own? (Stonathan no UD college AU, the context is Jonathan and Samantha have broken up):

Because all the theater freaks were shunning him, Jonathan sat with Barb and Nancy at lunch. "You'll get back together," Barb said glumly. It was unclear whether she was trying to reassure him but was too stressed out about Mathletes to manage a cheerful tone, or if she was predicting an outcome she disapproved of. "You'll ignore her, she'll call and sort of say sorry, and, because she apologized first, you'll fall all over yourself saying that it's all your fault, and that she's right that you should both move to New York City and live in a condemned building and wear garbage bags instead of clothes." Well. That answered his question. "I don't think that's going to happen," he said, contemplating the peanut butter cracker he'd spent the last half hour eating. "It feels different this time."

Oh, I'm Bound to Go (companion to Drive All Night)

Will wasn't sure who figured it out first, him or Mom. When the money first started coming in--so much money, enough for Mom's medicine and Will's new shoes and more food than he could ever remember having--he asked why they couldn't just live with Jonathan in the city. Surely Indianapolis had enough piecework and odd jobs for the two of them. "He's living in a boarding house, sweetheart," she said, keeping her eyes on the chicken she was cleaning instead of his face. "There's no room for us." Maybe she'd known it was a lie all along. But Will understood Jonathan better than anyone, knew how his lies looked and sounded. On paper, he couldn't hear the too-bright home or watch him disappear behind his eyes, but the wrongness came through all the same.

Short

I Know It Breaks Your Heart (Tommy-centric, mostly future fic)

Tommy didn't need anyone to think that he was smart except for Carol, who understood without explanation that he didn't have to act like a nerd or a circus freak to prove that he was clever. It just felt shitty, sometimes, that Steve clearly thought of him as a dumbass. Steve, who had no bullshit meter and maintained a B-minus average with more effort than he liked to admit. It was annoying, but, more than that, it struck Tommy as greedy. Steve was taller, more handsome, more impressive on the court and field. He put people at ease. He could've let Tommy have something.

Raised on Promises (El's life in California, gen)

No matter what Joyce says, and no matter how nice Will and Jonathan are about it, El still feels embarrassed by the toys. Jonathan doesn't play with anything, except sometimes for the hacky sack Argyle gave him; he just listens to tapes and smokes. And maybe that's because he's almost grown up, but Will is her age and he gave away all his D&D stuff to Erica before they moved. He does art now, which isn't playing. Grown-ups do art, too, sometimes even as a job. The girls at school don't play with toys, either. They have fun like she and Max did last summer: dressing up and messing around with makeup and hanging out at the mall. Only the girls here aren't as nice, and Max isn't here to show her how to act her age. So she finds herself building little towns out of blocks and shuffling around a bunch of plastic dolls.

The P is for Perfection (and You Know That We Are Freaks) (Joyce doesn't move the family to California and El becomes a cheerleader)

"I heard she was raised in a cult," Amanda whispered to Chrissy, as the freshman girls lined up. "Chief Hopper knocked up some hippie and only found out when she died a couple years ago. And then he left her with Joyce Byers when he died. Not really an improvement, if you ask me." "Shush," Chrissy said. She was already getting a headache and the yelling hadn't even started. "You don't want the other girls to hear." Amanda muttered that it was common knowledge, but Chrissy tuned her out and studied Jane Hopper. She was on the tall side, with a lean and strong-looking frame. No flyer, but she could be a backspot or a base. She had curly brown hair pulled back in a scrunchy and a pretty, guileless face. She was dressed okay, in a baggy light purple sweatshirt and white leggings, but there was an air of offness about her.

[bluecoolr]

I know the corn field thing was just to show how Darrell would deal with his fear in case a victim ran into a cornfield but since I am thinking about the ending lines rn ("He would get her. He always got them. That was why he didn't wear a mask. His face was the last thing they ever saw.") I wonder what the woman could have done to earn his ire ;D

Hey Cylas! I've been rotating this idea in my microwave brain for so long and I finally got the caffeine fix to power me through writing this lil drabble so here goes:

Dog Days

A/N: The dog survived. Preface(?) to Corn

It was his second day at the station. He had not seen or felt a bed in that time since. The air conditioning was broken, and the sweltering Louisiana heat made the store feel like a pressure cooker. He was tired, he stank, and he was pissed.

On the open automatic grill beside the register, hotdogs sizzled, rolling over and over like eager, legless Dachshunds. The gargantuan softy machine rattled and hummed like a fat shiny bug, and a wave of ridiculous temperature wafted from its exhaust.

Why do I keep this job, he thinks to himself. The pay is terrible. The hours are awful. There's little to no benefits. What the fuck is holding you back from leaving?

Devil's Peak, like some dark and omnipresent entity, made itself known by the shadow it cast. It wasn't the type you saw. It was the type you felt. Like a hand stretched out over that sad, forgotten waste.

Devil's Peak wasn't exactly a destination town. It had nothing to boast but its mountain trails and the limited camping spots surrounding the prussian blue waters of the Devil's Basin. However, the thrillseekers had all but abandoned the once popular trails on account of the accidents and disappearances that have happened over the years. Nowadays, Devil's Peak was delegated to a roadside attraction. People just passed by.

Darrell, however, was a fixture. He was as much a part of the mountain as the rocks and the trees, as the hogs and the cottonmouths, and the deaths and disappearances. The Devil ain't here, same way God ain't.

There's only me. He swiped his forearm over his forehead. And I'm getting fucking angry.

Nighttime couldn't come any faster, that the heat would ease down, if not disappear entirely. That's when she walked in. Blonde, slender, and tan. Walking beside her, was a shaggy German Shepherd.

She completely ignored the No Pets Allowed sign on the door. When Darrell told her that he couldn't let her in with the dog, she insisted it was fine.

The dog was snappish, slobbering, and didn't obey simple commands. Worst of all, it stood on its hindlegs to nose and pick at the items on display.

When Darrell confronted the woman, she immediately went on the offensive. He had no right, she said, to refuse her service. Darrell said that she can still shop, if she kept the dog in her vehicle. "Just to prevent contamination, ma'am. We've got food and perishables in the store."

She didn't like that. "No. He wants to be in the store with me."

The dog watched Darrell apprehensively. It stuck close to its master's leg, eyes glaring and hackles raised. It yelped when Darrell looked it in the eye.

He'd seen this before. Dogs couldn't stand to be around him. They had that sixth sense. They could spot harm-doers almost instantly. It was like a special scent. Evil was a taint so rank dogs could always smell. When in doubt, you should always trust a dog.

Darrell subtly widened his eyes, quelling the dog. It bolted past the shelves to the door, but it wouldn't open and it was stuck barking to be let out.

"Don't seem too keen to stay, f'ya ask me," he said coolly.

The slap she gave him made his ear ring, and he had to flex his jaw to right himself. "Take what you need and get the hell out," he said lowly.

Darrell rang up her items at the cashier. The dog waited by the door, tail tucked firmly between its legs. He gave the woman his obligatory customer service farewell. "Asshole," she retorted, and she wobbled out the door in her hefty platform slippers.

The bell rang as the door returned to place, and Darrell pulled his hatchet and kabar from under the counter. He went out the back and cut the power. No lights. No cameras. No evidence.

No magic 8 ball opinion either. This was personal. Fuck being the bigger person.

The next morning, when Melvin came to check on his store, he found Darrell patching up the wiring. His cheek was swollen.

"The hell happened to you?" Melvin asked, his dark skin glistening with sweat from the morning heat.

"Power went out," Darrell explained, "Slipped and fell."

His clothes and hair were damp. He had taken a shower. Nevertheless, Melvin wrinkled his nose. "Jesus, Darr. Did you step on somethin'?" he complained as the younger man passed by.

Darrell lifted his foot and looked at the sole of his boot. He went over to the station's water pump and hosed his boots down.

The smell of boar was offensive, but it washed off eventually. Like blood and guilt.

[amysubmits]

do you have any thoughts on how things like Autism and ADHD can play a positive and/or negative role in relationships and sexual interactions especially in the BDSM D/s dynamic?

Hi :)

I have ADHD, we used to think CD also had ADHD as he was diagnosed with it previously, but we recently learned he was misdiagnosed.

We both have some autistic traits, but I don't think either of us likely qualify for the diagnosis. I find development really interesting so I've sort of been interested in learning about autism since I was in high school...but I don't know nearly as much as many other people. Anyway, I know some about both but I only really have experience with ADHD so this will be more ADHD focused and any of the autism stuff should be taken with a grain of salt.

Some positives that come to mind:

Clear communication. I think people with autism and/or ADHD both tend to be more literal and direct rather than speaking vaguely or in metaphors. I think there is a lot of benefit to having really clear communication in kink or d/s. It just lowers the risk of miscommunication and can increase intimacy which can be a really awesome thing, too.

ADHD can come with hyperfocus which can make BDSM or D/s experiences really enhanced if they're super locked in to the experience.

Passion. Whether it's hyperfocus in ADHD or special interests in autism, both groups can be really passionate about the things they are interested in. If one of those interests or fixations is BDSM or D/s, they can do a really great job of researching thoroughly and learning a lot, which can lead to better educated and ultimately safer interactions and relationships.

The ability to fully "unmask" can be really healing. I think the nature of BDSM and D/s can allow people to be more "themselves" than they might feel they can be in other relationships or situations. With kink not really being the most socially acceptable thing, by exploring kink, we're sort of rejecting some of society's expectations for us. Instead of asking what our relationships 'should' be like or what our bedroom play 'should' include, we can instead ask ourselves what we want and what is healthy for us and so on, and customize our relationships and intimate interactions based on those. And I think taking that same basic idea of...I'm going to set my goals and expectations based on what I actually want, what really works for me/us, etc - is a really good way to approach life in general when you have neurodivergence. Or if you don't, haha. But especially if you do! Cause we can't fit in the neurotypical box. I've found a lot of healing through d/s this last year. I should write about that!

Some mixed:

Almost everyone with autism (google says 90%), and around 40% of people with ADHD, also have sensory processing disorder. Which has pros and cons in my mind. Because on one hand, if someone is sensory seeking in certain ways, BDSM may be a great way to get the sensory input they like or need. On the other hand, people with sensory issues may have more sensory related hard limits or triggers that need to be worked around.

Some negatives:

Lots of people with ADHD (and I'd think maybe autism as well?) have regularly been criticized for their shortcomings. I think you'd be hard pressed to find someone who had ADHD as a kid, especially if it wasn't diagnosed young, but probably even if it was - who don't have insecurities that were caused by unfair/unreasonable criticism. Although most everyone knows about ADHD, it's still not well understood. I was diagnosed at 13 or 14 but have just started to really understand what ADHD looks like for me this past year! For a long time I thought I was misdiagnosed because my experiences didn't mirror examples of ADHD that I had always seen/heard. Anyway, I feel like most people think ADHD means being hyper and not paying attention to the teacher in school, and "...squirrel!" right? but not everyone with ADHD has hyperactivity and even those who have the hyperactive type, often have a lot of other types of symptoms that most people don't recognize as being ADHD symptoms. Like sensory issues, memory issues, difficulty with task initiation, other forms of executive function, rejection sensitive dysphoria, impulsivity. And due to that lack of understanding and sort of...ableism, I guess, I think a lot of ADHD people have wounds related to being treated as if we chose to do things poorly or were careless, even though we did our best. Most of us have experiences of being criticized as if we were making immoral choices, when in reality we had shortcomings that we couldn't overcome on our own. And when you grow up experiencing that a lot, it seeps into your view of yourself and makes you insecure and sensitive to criticism. If you have that sort of wound, it can make D/s challenging because accepting respectful criticism or critiques are part of d/s on both sides of the slash.

Most people with ADHD experience rejection-sensitive dysphoria, similar to what I stated above. But yeah this can make it hard to accept criticism and not get defensive or overly hurt, which can make being submissive tough in some situations.

With SPD, that sometimes includes auditory processing issues which can make verbal communication more challenging. This could potentially be dangerous if a sub says the safeword and the dom has auditory processing issues and doesn't immediately process/understand what was said. In other situations it may just make communication harder.

I'm sure there's lots more, but hope this is a decent start. I'd love to see people with ASD or ADHD or both comment with their experiences. :)

[loverlylight]

So, I can't remember the last time I brought this up, but my older brother and I have been roommates for almost seven years now. We both were ready to move out of our parent's house but even back then there's basically no way to afford to live somewhere on your own without making a ton of money, and we got along and knew we did fine living together and so on. Anyway, he's been hoping to get his own place and has been saving up for a while and the hope is to get going on that within the next few months, and along with that the hope is that my younger sister would sort-of do a reverse time share thing where she'd spend part of the time at our parent's house and part at the apartment so I could afford to not have to move yet.

And like... okay, this was definitely not something that my brother intended or whatever, but I always felt more like I'm renting a room in the apartment rather than the common space also being mine. Not just because he'd pay the bills and I'd just pay him my share (which, to be fair, is less than a 50/50 split, but even though I now have a full-time job making more than minimum wage he still makes like double what I do so we're roughly paying the same proportion of our income), but, like, he has his computer desk set up in the living room. Pre-pandemic I would at least spend days when I was off and he wasn't in the living room, once his job went fully remote all of the daytime during the week he was in the living room working, so I didn't want to disturb him so when I had time off if I wasn't on a walk or something I just stayed in my room so I'd stay out of his way.

And just... I dunno. Obviously I'll want it to be a space my little sister feels comfortable in too, but like... I feel like I can maybe use this chance to make the place I live feel more like mine, you know? I could hang up the artwork my parents didn't want anymore but I did, I could put my CDs and books and DVDs on the shelving in the main living area, I could store things where I'd like to store them, buy a frame for my D&D poster and move it off my closet door and onto a wall, get a bookshelf/display case so I could actually put the things I've gathered over the years somewhere visible instead of keeping them in my closet and rotating them out once a year. I just feel like, okay, unfortunately yes, I do have to stay alive. With that being the case, I should at least try to make that life one I would enjoy, as far as it's within my ability.