#they got married less than a year later lol

[stiltonbasket]

If/when yunhua gets married, her spouse is sort of starry-eyed about their tall, buff wife?

When Yunhua decides to get married, she orders her suitors to take part in a test of strength - that is, facing Yunhai on the training field and winning. She would have fought the suitors herself, but the intention was for at least one of them to win. ;)

[heegyukeluv]

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

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

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

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

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

wc: 26,6k.

NOT PROOFREAD.

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

“Fuck ass food.”

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

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

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

“What's up, man?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were beautiful in a way that left him breathless. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung made it his mission to make you his.

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Brendon!”

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

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

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

“Heeseung! Good to see you, man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And this is...?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, he forced himself to stay in character.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you ever thought about getting a divorce?”

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

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

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

“Nah. You’re good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung’s ears perked up at the news.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ignore her, focus here.”

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

“Don’t worry about it.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah. Grab me a beer.”

“Alright.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It shouldn’t be like this, Y/N.”

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

“But it’s been this way.”

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

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

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

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

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

You wished for that moment to last a bit more. 

“Maybe I know, but… it’s so hard.”

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

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

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

“Why are you taking so long, man?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was the dinner?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does he fuck you good?”

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

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

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

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

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

“He provides the house–”

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

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

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

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

“He does, he makes me feel happy…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heeseung–”

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

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

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

“Did I take too long?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Humor me, then.”

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

“I want to cheat on my husband.”

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

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

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

“Don’t judge me, plea–” “Who with?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you, Brendon. Go to hell!”

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

“Somewhere far away from you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I wanna relieve my stress, Heeseung.”

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

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

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

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

“Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So you want my help?”

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

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

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

“Yes, I–I want your help.”

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

“Come in, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

“He's been... strange.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He is.”

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

“W-What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I touch you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The morality was long gone.

“Please, Hee.”

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

“Show me.”

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

“Show me what I deserve.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you still wanted more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung was giving you full attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had a husband. 

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong, darling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then came the anger.

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

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

Heeseung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Such a foreign experience for you.

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

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

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

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

“Fuck…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dreamed about you from the very first day…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somehow, you really felt Heeseung everywhere. 

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

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

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

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

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

And why?

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

But why? 

Why did you accept so little?

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

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

Anger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you wanted more. Always. Fucking. More.

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

“More… Please, Hee, more…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hee– Mhm–”

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

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

Heeseung kissed your neck, then your lips. 

“You deserve better.”

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

“I can give you better.”

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted to make it last forever.

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

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

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

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

“Hell yeah, I did.”

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

“You good, baby?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But if he finds out–”

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

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

“I’ll buy it before you leave, okay?”

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

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

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

“Now you have to tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How had you forgotten?

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

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

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

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

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

Especially with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were so much more… To him.

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

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

Heeseung’s response caught you off guard. 

“Do you want me to take you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” he whispered, agreeing with you.

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

It was more than worth it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung had shown you that in such a short time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A first date.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hee?”

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

“Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look beautiful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what made you keep with it?” 

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

“You.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank–”

“That can’t be real.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was ready to strike.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hee–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung, however, was a bit different from you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So. Fucking. Hot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m glad to hear that, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More.”

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 2

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.8k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), explicit language, cheating, pregnancy, smut – PIV sex (doggy style)

Summary: You deal with the aftermath of your summer babysitting job turned adulterous summer scandal.

Author’s Notes: Thanks for all the kind words and support on Part 1 of this! I hope you enjoy part 2, and who knows, maybe I'll write a part 3 one day lol. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Taglist: @scorpiosugar @diegojeanne @f4irygard3n @cvixmei @soniiyi - more tags in the comments

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You blink away the tears in your eyes, holding the pregnancy test, hoping that somehow, you’ll blink away the second line indicating that you are indeed pregnant.

“No way.” Chiyo waits for you outside the stall, the apprehension in her voice apparent.

“Yes. I’m…” There’s a lump in your throat you have to swallow before you finish your sentence. “Pregnant.”

Your best friend’s silence on the other side only makes you panic more, but you don’t blame her. What can she really say to make any of this better? To stop your world from turning upside down?

She whispers your name quietly, at a complete loss for words. Then, she clears her throat, sounding as if she’s fighting tears herself. “I’m going to buy you a melon pan. Just…wait for me here, okay?” It’s the only consolation she can offer you in this moment, huddled in a public restroom of a convenience store; you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You wait for her to leave, completely alone now. As soon as she’s gone, you sob into your hands.

It's not that you oppose being a mother. You’ve always imagined handing a positive pregnancy test to the love of your life with the biggest smile on your face, excited to raise a family together. Ideally, this would have happened sometime in the future, once you’ve established yourself as a full-fledged adult. Not like this: twenty-one years-old, less than a year until graduation without the slightest clue what you’re doing with your life. Worst of all, the father isn’t your husband, a boyfriend, even a friend. It’s Toji Fushiguro, the dad of the little boy you babysat over the summer, the husband of the kind woman who hired you. You still haven’t forgiven yourself for your adultery, the guilt eating away at you since the start of that lecherous summer fling. And now, you have this pee-on-a-stick to remind you how incredibly reckless you were to get involved with him in the first place. How undeniably irresponsible you were to have unprotected sex with a married man. Sure, it was the best sex you’ll probably ever have in your life. But was it worth it?

You wrap the pregnancy test in toilet paper, tossing it in the trash bin. Knowing that no good will come out of sulking in the 7-11 bathroom any longer, you finally exit the stall, washing your hands clean at the sink. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, fixated on your belly, wondering what it will look like round and full of life. It buzzes again, snapping you out of your trance. When you check to see who’s messaging, you almost drop your phone out of shock.

Somehow, someway, the universe has it out for you. Because in the most perfectly disastrous timing ever, Mrs. Fushiguro decides to contact you.

~~~

A week later, you’re sitting on the train, heading to the Fushiguro household. Your stomach is in knots, both from anxiety and from the morning sickness. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin sticky against your clothing in this hot weather. The closer you approach your destined stop, the more and more nervous you get, almost convinced to call the whole thing off.

Believe it or not, Mrs. Fushiguro did not contact you to confront you about the dirty deeds you did with her husband. Instead, she messaged you in dire need of a babysitter once again. She spares you the details, asking if you could meet her in person to better explain herself. And for whatever reason, you agree.

You haven’t come up with a solid plan yet on what you want to do about your little predicament. So far, the only people that know are Chiyo and your parents, who, after the initial shock of it all, have been surprisingly supportive. They advised you to take the rest of the term off, which you were able to get arranged quickly through your school. This gives you several weeks to decide what you need to do. With one issue resolved, it leaves you with the next, and the most pressing: whether or not you should tell the father. The last thing you want is to break apart the Fushiguro family. You’re fully prepared to raise this baby as a single mother, which, with the help of your parents and best friend, seems doable. Besides, you’re not even sure if you want Toji to be involved considering his complete lack of interest in his other child, Megumi. Despite that, you believe that as the father, he has the right to know. Can you gather the courage to actually tell him?

Still lost in your train of thought, you hop off to walk to the house. When you arrive, you spot Mrs. Fushiguro already outside, leaning against her car in the driveway with little Megumi in her arms. They both smile upon seeing you, warming your heart. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever is to come. 

“Hello Mrs. Fushiguro,” you greet her, bowing politely, too shy to meet her gaze. “How are you?”

“Doing really well. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” She lets her son down, who steps towards you until he’s hugging your knee, cooing. “I wanted to talk to you in person about my complicated situation.”

“Is everything alright?” you ask, unable to resist kneeling down to meet Megumi at eye level, making funny faces at him.

She giggles. “Oh, everything is great! The divorce finally went through and I’m living with my new boyfriend now, who’s been the absolute best, especially with Megumi.”

You make a shocked expression, mouth agape, exaggerated for the kid’s entertainment, though you’re pretty much stunned yourself. “Divorce…?”

“Yeah! Toji and I have been separated for a long time now. I’m sorry I didn’t mention that over the summer. You’re still so young after all, no need to rope you into adult things.”

You almost bust out laughing at the irony, but you hold your tongue, continuing to listen to her.

She sighs, flipping her long, beautiful hair behind her shoulders. “That being said, I still care about the guy. I mean, he is the father of my child. Without me or Megumi there on a regular basis, the whole house has gone to shit. It seems like he’s actually taking this divorce pretty hard. So, I want to hire you as a babysitter for my ex-husband. Just for a little while until he can get back up on his feet.”

Another shocked face, which makes Megumi laugh while dread sinks into your chest. “Babysitter…?”

“Babysitter, housekeeper, whatever you want to call it. You did such a wonderful job with him over the summer, even while you were taking care of Megumi! I don’t know what you were feeding him. Whatever it was, he was definitely a little bit nicer when you were around.”

Lewd flashbacks replay in your mind of Toji eating you out sloppily, slurping up all your pussy juices in every room of the house. You focus on the ground, too ashamed to look at her. “Mrs. Fushiguro, I don’t know if I can do this.”

She squats to your level, reaching for your hand, holding it gently in hers. “I know this is a lot of ask. You’re the only one I can rely on for this. Please.”

A sense of déjà vu hits you. There’s desperation in her tone and it tugs at your heartstrings the same way it did when you first met her a few months ago. It doesn’t help that Megumi is now squeezing the index finger of your other hand, eyes full of curious wonder, grip surprisingly strong for such a young child. Would she be pleading with you like this if she knew the truth about you, Toji, and the baby? Even though they were separated during this whole ordeal, it doesn’t make what you did any better; you still decided to do it regardless of their marital status.

Maybe you can use this opportunity as a way to atone.  

You finally look at her, giving the most convincing smile you can muster, trying your best to ignore the wave of nausea washing over you. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

~~~

Mrs. Fushiguro asks you to start at noon the following day, giving her enough time to notify her ex about your temporary employment. When you use the set of keys she gave you to open the front door, you step inside cautiously, not sure what to expect. You’ve been dreading this impromptu reunion all night, wondering if you could even face him.

It’s a mess inside, heaps of dirty laundry scattered all over the furniture, fast food wrappers and empty ramen bowls littered on the kitchen counter. There’s a stench lingering in the stale air in here and you almost think the worse, but Mrs. Fushiguro had warned you about this. Seeing it in person is more heartbreaking than disgusting. Toji really is taking this divorce hard. It wouldn’t be right to burden him with more life-changing news, right?

You begin by gathering all the trash into garbage bags, flattening any cardboard to recycle. By the looks of it, he’s been living off junk food and protein bars for the past month. The refrigerator is near empty, aside from a questionable take-out container in the very back, which you end up dumping along with everything else. You make it your next task to get groceries after you load the washing machine.

When you return from the store, Toji remains absent. Nerves prevent you from leaning against the bedroom door to listen for any signs of him in there. His ex-wife mentioned that he goes out to gamble at the horse races whenever he’s short on cash, so it’s likely he’s there. Still, you’re anticipating his return, mentally preparing yourself for how you’ll behave around him. Given your current circumstances, you are serious about turning over a new leaf. No more funny business with him. Absolutely not.

It’s near dinnertime now and you’ve miraculously accomplished tidying the house and doing his laundry all within a few hours. You even managed to cook soup for dinner, full of hearty beef and fresh vegetables, something to provide nutrients compared to the processed food he’s been consuming lately. You’re stirring the pot when you hear keys jingle from outside the front door. He comes in, clad in a tight-fitting black shirt that accentuates his muscles and grey sweatpants that don't leave much to the imagination. A plastic bag is slung behind his shoulder, clearly from a convenience store. Despite his concerning diet, his physique is still impressive as ever. Just one glance at him has you fluttering below your belly, replaying the erotic memories you share together. You turn to face him, standing up straight, feigning confidence while you fret internally. He looks at you, brow raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his lips.

“Hello sir,” you greet him, bowing politely. Acting as if he’s a total stranger and not the man who rocked your entire world over the summer, now with evidence to prove it.

He sets the bag on the counter, revealing a couple of ramen packets inside. “What’s with the formalities?” he asks, grinning. “If I remember correctly, you were screaming my name nonstop the last time you were here.”

Heat rushes into your cheeks instantly, not surprised by his vulgarity, though still embarrassed. You clear your throat, trying to stay strong. “I’m here to work. Nothing else.”

He walks towards you, his stature casting a daunting shadow as he steps closer and closer, towering over you. His voice is low, borderline threatening to a point that has you trembling. “So you don’t want me to fuck you anymore?”

You swallow hard, composure wavering. “That’s right.”  Even you don’t fully believe it when it comes out of your own mouth, how can you expect him to?

There’s a strange look in his eyes, almost like he’s disappointed by your response. He turns his back to you, mumbling something about taking a shower. You watch him enter his bedroom, hearing him clear as day before he shuts the door with a dull thud. “I guess you don’t want me either.”

~~~

A week into being Toji’s live-in housekeeper, the two of you figure out a routine together that involves minimal interaction. You wake up in the morning to cook breakfast, eating it quickly and leaving the rest for him while you go out. You use this time to go for a walk, meet with Chiyo or your parents, do some grocery shopping, or just sit at the nearby park, enjoying the sun with your baby, who grows little-by-little each day.

Toji is usually gone the whole afternoon, either working out or gambling, so you’re able to do chores back at the house, like cleaning his room. He doesn’t return until dinnertime when tension seems to be at its highest. A big reason for that is because he’s made it a habit to eat right after his shower, shirtless and with his legs crossed on the floor, displaying a perfectly visible outline of his manhood. It’s distracting, to say the least. Chiyo mentioned the other day how you can have an increased libido during the first trimester. That’s definitely proving itself now.

Aside from the half-nakedness, something else surprises you about him. The two of you mostly avoid conversation with each other, eating in silence at the dining table while sneaking furtive glances whenever you get a chance. But he never fails to mutter, “Thank you for the meal,” before washing the dishes at the sink, retreating back into his room when he’s done. It’s the tiniest act of consideration that makes you wonder what’s going on in his head.

Tonight you sit across from each other as usual. You just finished eating the chicken katsu you made for dinner, along with a couple of side dishes you prepped earlier in the week. His abs look especially spectacular today and you find it harder than usual to stop peeking at them.

“You’re gonna burn a hole through me with the way you’re staring,” he says, chewing his last bite.

Shit, caught red-handed. You quickly look down at your empty bowl, mumbling an apology. “Sorry. I just…I can tell your hard work is paying off.”

“Yours too. The house has never been cleaner. And the food has never been better.” He’s looking directly at you, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you.”

It’s no good. Your hormones are raging, sexual desire courses through you, all from that stupidly handsome grin and a silly little compliment. How did you ever think you could resist him?

You stand up, grabbing everything from the table. “I’ll do the dishes,” you offer, walking them to the sink, trying to calm down.

It’s no use, though. He sees right through you.

He gives you only a minute alone before he follows you, caging you between his big arms, your back to him, his mouth hot on your ear. “Let me help you.”

You let out a frustrated huff, already unraveling from his proximity. The smallest jut of your hips and there it is, his erection pressed to your ass, throbbing and even more massive than you remember it. “Toji, we can’t,” you whine, not making any attempt to separate yourself from him.

He slides his hands around your hips, pulling you in closer, rubbing his rock-hard cock against you. “I know you want it. I know you want me.”

And he’s right. You do. You want him with you, around you, inside of you. In all the ways he’s had you before, in new ways he’s never had but you’ve fantasized about. There’s no denying it anymore. You want him. You want him so fucking bad.

He takes you right there at the kitchen sink, bent over with your grip tight on the edge of the counter, pounding away at your wet, needy cunt. Neither of you bother to remove your clothes completely, Toji’s sweatpants shrugged down his thighs just enough, yours pooled around your ankles, soaked panties at your knees. “Fuck, Toji!” you moan, sticking your ass out to meet his thrusts.

His fingers find your clit, rubbing slippery circles around it. “Say it,” he grunts, increasing the pace.

Drools leaks out from the sides of your lips, too fucked out to process what’s he’s asking you. “What?”

“Say you want me,” he demands, massaging your swollen bud so deep, you feel it all the way down to your fucking toes.

“I want you. I want you, Toji!” you respond breathlessly, squeezing him tight with your orgasm.

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed my good girl.” He continues to fuck you, slowly now, relishing every second of being inside you. “Always so fucking creamy for me, fuck.” He pulls you up to embrace you from behind, fingers still pleasuring you, his other hand at your chin to face you towards him. The two of you kiss passionately, lips smacking, tongues swirling. So sloppy and wanton that it puts you on the verge of another orgasm, completely succumbed to pleasure.

You sleep with him in his bedroom after several more orgasms and a big one of his own, wrapped comfortably in his arms, with his cock and creampie inside you the rest of the night. For the first time in a while, you’re oddly at peace.

~~~

Your reckless decision making has led you into another troublesome scenario. Fortunately, you haven’t had any morning sickness the entire first week of your employment at the Fushiguro household. Unfortunately, it decides to come back today. There’s no way you’ll be able to make it to the bathroom near your room, so you have no choice but to hop out of Toji’s bed and run into his, clutching onto the porcelain bowl until it’s all out. You rinse your mouth off at the sink, hoping Toji didn’t hear any of it. But you know all too well by now that luck is never on your side.

He’s sitting up against the headboard, watching you come out of the bathroom. “Did you just puke in there?” There’s a hint of concern in his normally blunt tone.

You nod, bending down to retrieve your underwear and pants off the floor, avoiding his gaze.

“Are you sick?” he asks, the worry even more obvious now.

Shaking your head, you respond, “No, I just…I’m feeling a little nauseous, that’s all.” You walk towards the door, still not willing to look at him. “There should be leftovers in the fridge, so help yourself to breakfast. I’m going to lay down.”

He calls out your name. “Wait – ”

You ignore him, closing the door shut behind you, letting the tears fall down your cheeks as you retreat into your own bedroom, muffling your sobs into a pillow. After your wild romp last night, this bout of morning sickness has swiftly brought you back to reality. You’re still harboring the secret growing in your womb from the man who gave it to you to begin with.

There’s a firm knock on your door, startling you. “Hey, it’s me.”

In this split-second, you decide to stop with the lies and finally tell the truth. You open the door, Toji standing in front of you fully clothed in his usual attire, a serious expression on his face. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Eyes still puffy from crying, you take a deep breath. “I’m pregnant. And you’re the father.”

His mouth parts the slightest bit, no words coming out of it. The silence seems to linger on forever. You fill it by rambling all the thoughts that have been swimming in your head the last couple of weeks. “Before you start freaking out or anything, I’m telling you so that you know. I don’t expect you to be involved. I’m perfectly willing to raise this child on my own. And besides, I won’t be completely alone. I have my family to help me, my friends too. I’ll be totally fine. This baby is going to be well taken care of, I’ll make sure of it. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t know how. But I feel better already because this has been stressing me out. It’s all going to work out okay? I think. I hope.”

After the long spiel, he stares down at the floor, jaw tight, mouth opening and closing, unsure how to respond. Eventually, he says, “I have to go.”

When he leaves the house, you crawl into your bed, bawling until there are no tears left for you to cry.

~~~

You wake up in the late afternoon to an enticing aroma wafting from the kitchen. It’s been hours since you’ve been in bed, moping about how poorly everything went with Toji. His reaction left you devastated. While you always expected to do this alone, hearing his negative response to it hurts more than you anticipated it to.

Curious, you make your way into the kitchen, shocked to find Toji standing over the stove, stirring a pot, the soothing scent of soup surrounding you. “What’s going on?” you ask, noticing a plethora of fresh vegetables laid out on the counter, along with a big bottle of prenatal vitamins and various snacks.

He turns the heat off, covering the pot with a lid. “I’m cooking,” he answers, facing you with a grin on his face. “Bone broth is a good source of calcium. And you need to keep eating lots of veggies so our baby is strong, like me. No more of this instant ramen shit.”

“I thought you were upset,” you say, stepping closer to him.  

“I know. I’m sorry I left like that. I was shocked at first, I’ll admit it. But I started to get excited." He takes your hands in his. "I have a lot of regrets in my life, but being a father isn’t one of them. Being a bad father is. I want to change. I need to change. For Megumi. For our new little one. For you.”

Strangely enough, you believe in his heartfelt declaration. You smile at him, letting him go to stand in front of the stove, taking a whiff of the comforting aroma of the hot soup he made for you, happy tears welling in your eyes. He hugs you gently from behind, nuzzling his nose to you. “I’m going to do it right this time, okay? I know I can do it with you.”

As Toji caresses your belly, kissing you softly along the neck, you feel the weight that’s been heavy on your shoulders ease up. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

[mochinomnoms]

For domestic jade I was thinking things like waking up and going to bed together, watching silly YouTube videos, car ride conversations, camping, him cooking for us, greeting him when he gets home from work.

As for kids I was thinking about his reaction to pregnancy, friends reactions, behavior during and after pregnancy, meeting baby for the first time, extra

I also crave wedding head cannons

Waaaaaaah! I love things like these!

Jade would likely have two weddings, one for the surface for you and your friends and surrogate family, and one in the sea for his family and their associates. The one in the sea is much, and I really must emphasize the much part, more formal. Jade and yours merforms are dressed in Coral Sea formal attire, which is mostly jewelry and accessories rather than clothes. The wedding is less for you two and more for the Leech family's associates. There are lots of presents and well-wishes given to the groom and his new spouse, all to curry favor with who may be two out of three (maybe four if Floyd also marries) the new heads of the Leech family in the next few years. It's not very fun, to be frank, and many people come up to you to introduce themselves and try to cozy up, but Jade is always close by to keep you close to him.

The wedding on the surface is much more fun and is planned entirely by you two, with the help of his parents and of course your own friends. It's still got a bit of formality to it, but Jade is surprisingly into the idea of a much more casual wedding on the beach. He is very firm in ensuring that mushrooms are included in just about every dish served possible. You have to call Clover Bakery (because who else would you trust) and beg Trey to not let Jade add any actual mushrooms to the wedding cake. Fondant ones are perfectly fine. It's quite lovely, everyone is having fun, you and Jade get to finally bask in each other's presence without some suckerfish coming up to bother you. And you get the added bonus of getting gifts from people like Malleus and Kalim who don't want to curry favor, they just want to give you nice gifts!

Living with Jade in your own shared home after the wedding and honeymoon is also lovely. I'm mildly torn between wanting Jade to be a househusband or having him come home with his spouse waiting for him! Jade would probably get bored being a househusband, and I can see him still working with Azul as an adult, perhaps as a restaurant manager for one of Azul's branches!

When it comes to the home, I like to think that he keeps it relatively peaceful. He's early to rise, and if you're not, then he's happy to get you a cup of tea ready as you continue sleeping. If you rise with him, then he likes having you do your morning routine with him, he thinks it's extra cute having you help him with his bedhead! Your fingers through his hair and the cute, focused pout as you try to help him curl the end of his darker strand is his favorite image in the morning.

This post is a bit too long now, but I do have more domestic thoughts and Dad Jade thoughts! I'll add more later or if I forgot send me another ask in like a week lol.

[klbwriting]

If you can, any domestic Jason Todd headcanons (or fic) would do. I image something along the lines of them getting married, so what it would be like -the emotional state he would be in lol-, being pregnant with their first child two years later and emotional turmoil pt2 😭 and the child is definitely a girl because Jason is a certified dads girl ™️ perhaps a little snippet of how it would be (in terms of emotions) for him to see his family/child grow up, after such a bad upbringing and feeling at peace. At home, because he knows he is safe and loved unconditionally

OOOOO I LOVE THIS! Ok, here goes, I hope you enjoy!

Jason would be absolutely the most nervous man on the planet to even ask you to marry him. He would plan how to ask for months, carrying the ring in his pocket, a ruby of course, with black diamonds around it. He would be waiting for the perfect moment, a dinner at the nicest place he could find, a picnic on the grounds of the manor, a show that you loved, but every time he would be too nervous, his insecurities and self doubt plaguing him until finally you were the one who brought it up.

You and Jason were sitting on the couch, just hanging out watching some bad reality tv, and you looked at him. He looked back at you, the look in your eye scaring him. You were thinking about something serious, your mouth a thin line, eyes narrowing a little, and he was scrambling to figure out what he had done wrong. Was this it? Did you finally decide to leave him? Then you smiled at him. "Jason?" you said. "Yes sweetheart?" "Are you going to ask me to marry you or is that ring you're carrying around for your other girlfriend?" Jason was floored but honestly, what better time? You were looking more gorgeous than ever before, relax in your sweatpants and one of his shirts, smiling so sweet he couldn't wait another second and got down on one knee right there.

The wedding was somehow more stressful than popping the question. Jason kept expecting you to come to your senses and break everything off, leave him for someone with less baggage then him, someone who wasn't worried about the backup plans for your wedding in case Joker or Bane attacked the city. But the day arrived and Bruce brought in backup to make sure no one messed with his son's big day. Clark Kent said a quick hello to Jason before getting a call about an important story and needed to leave early, but he would send a gift. Then Diana Prince showed up, telling Bruce and Jason that she had just spoken to you and you looked amazing, just gorgeous. Then he was at the top of the aisle and watching you come towards him he didn't think his life could be any more perfect.

You pretty much spent the first couple years married in a constant state of perfect happiness. Jason was an even better husband than boyfriend, and he still somehow kept protecting the city. He was amazing and you felt so lucky that he was in your life. Then you found out you were pregnant and Jason almost spiraled. It was rough for the first couple months as he adjusted to the idea. He never honestly pictured himself as a father since his had been so epically bad. He could not imagine he would be any better. He got reckless in his patrolling, making you stress out until finally you had to tell him what was happening. The stress from him being out and not being careful was making you sick, maybe hurting the baby, and Jason realized one night when came home to find you sobbing on the bathroom floor that he needed to pull himself together. You were going to be a great parent and he would have to work on himself to be on your level. He got some help from a therapist, from Bruce, who maybe wasn't a perfect father but he was better than Jason's real father.

The birth of his daughter was the greatest day of Jason's life. You were amazing, bring a new life into this world, the beautiful little girl who stole his heart. He kissed your head, watching you hold the baby, tears in your eyes. "She's perfect," you said softly. Jason smiled and kissed her little head. "You both are perfect," he whispered. Somehow, all the fear he had had when he found out about the baby was gone, all he could think about was how he was going to be the best father he could. This girl would grow up happy, loved, and accepted for who she was.

Jason thought the first day of school was the worst day ever. His baby, his little angel, old enough to go off on her own. You thought you were emotional until you saw Jason not even holding back the tears, watching his daughter enter school for the first time, turning one time to run back and hug her daddy. He gripped her close before letting her go and gently pushing her towards her class. "What do you think?" you asked him. He swallowed hard, watching her turn and wave again, smiling wide, so confident in herself and so happy. "I feel happy, like everything is finally perfect," he said softly, heart feeling at peace for the first time.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Got Me Thinking

Part 3: Kiss it Better (NSFW)

Synopsis: Jack ends up getting into an argument with Kelsey and quickly makes it up in his mind to visit you in order to take his mind off of it. Little did the two of you know that those feelings that had been buried all those years ago would come straight up to the surface.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Read Part 1 and Part 2 first

Do not engage if underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Jack let out a frustrated sigh thinking about the argument that had ensued between him and Kelsey that morning as he was now currently on a plane to California for Druski's premiere. All that he asked of her was to be a little more supportive as he had been under a lot of stress lately and wasn't taking his feelings into consideration and that sent them into a full blown yelling match with her accusing him of saying that she wasn't supportive of him at all.

Shaking his head and trying not to think about it, he pulled out his phone to text you and see what you were up to since he wanted to see you before leaving the state. Druski's premiere was later on that day and he didn't plan on doing anything after except being with you if you were available.

Ever since the two of you reunited at his birthday party, you were all that he could think about. For the entire week that you were there, he spent about every day with you and it was safe to say that he missed your presence and being around you.

And his feelings that were buried deep down had made their way to the surface and had hit him like a ton of bricks.

Yes, he married Kelsey. But did he love her? When they got married he definitely did, but he didn't love her as much as he loved you and knew that no one else on the face of the earth would be able to fill your shoes. He was hurt when he found out you got married, but what could he had done at that point? The two of you hadn't spoken for years and even though he wanted it to be him, he was happy that you found happiness and would never try to ruin that for you. But now hearing about how Xavier had been treating you, he wanted to get you away from him as soon as he could. He knew you were trying to plan everything out, but he didn't want you to have to deal with that situation any longer.

Jack Jack- What are you getting up to tonight pretty girl?

You- Eating and sleeping. My all time favorite pastimes.

Jack Jack- Hmm, now you can't do that if I'm coming to see you, now can you?

You- 👀

You- When will you be here!?!?

Jack Jack- In about an hour or so. I know you're still working but I'm going to Druski's premiere and I wanted to see you after. So around 11 tonight? Is that too late?

You- Never too late when it involves me getting to see you. Now I'm hoping the day goes by a little faster.

Jack Jack- Aww does someone miss me?

You- Don’t push it lol

Jack Jack- Been having a shitty week but I know seeing you will make it better.

You- Oh no. My poor baby. Tell me all about it later. Just text me the address of your hotel and the room. I know how reserved you are and highly doubt you want paparazzi in your face.

Jack Jack- Can't wait to see you

Clay looked over at Jack and immediately asked what had him in such a good mood since he had literally been pissed off less than ten minutes ago.

“Who are you texting that has you smiling like that?”

“Well we know it's not Kelsey.” Urban muttered and Clay couldn't help but to stifle a laugh.

“My guess is Y/N, since he hasn't stopped talking about her.”

“The person that you should have married.”

“And how many times are you going to remind me? What was I supposed to do? Make her divorce him so I could marry her? We hadn't even talked in seven years at that point!” Jack exclaimed while looking at both of them.

“You should've been like I OBJECT!”

“I mean…… that plan could work because she had straight googly eyes when yall made eye contact.”

“And she didn't leave your side the entire night.” Urban added.

“And you don't like your wife. None of us do.”

“I… not too much on Kelsey now!” Jack said while attempting to defend his wife, but all they did was look at him.

“Bruh… DIVORCE.HER.ASS.”

“Because we're legit confused on how and why you married her in the first place. We told you not to and now look, sitting up here miserable and unhappy.”

“I care about her!” Jack said, defending his actions.

“Notice how you said care and not love? Yall argue every waking hour and you are always grumpy. You haven't been grumpy and in a mood since you basically spent your entire birthday week up Y/N's ass. Well except for today when you know, got into an argument with that woman who shares your last name.”

“Wait…. did yall… fuck? As in you and Y/N?”

“NO URB! I didn't cheat on Kelsey and did we forget that Y/N is married too?”

“What is that supposed to mean? We don't like him either. Don't even know shit about him, but he's not you and you and Y/N belong together. Don't make me start singing Mariah Carey.”

“And Kelsey treats you like the gum on the bottom of her shoe.”

“Facts, no printer.”

“Yall just don't know her like I do.”

“And we don't want to.”

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his curly hair because he knew that they were exactly right.

“Think about it like this. Your own wife didn't come to your birthday party yet, your EX-GIRLFRIEND from when you were in HIGH SCHOOL did. What does that tell you?”

“And who is she married to?”

“His name is Xavier.” Jack answered as he pulled up your instagram and handed Urban his phone.

“Oh.”

“Oh? What do you mean oh?” Jack asked as everyone had now gathered around Urban to get a glimpse.

“If this is the dude you're competing with, you can take him.”

“Maybe we could set up a boxing match.”

“Jack is definitely a lover and not a fighter. He wouldn't make it to the second round.”

“HEY!”

“Don't get mad at me because it's true.” Clay replied while holding his hands up in defense.

“But the thing is, Y/N told me she's divorcing him.”

“Good! Then ease your way in!”

“And he's about to have a baby on her.”

“Well got damn. HE CHEATED? ON Y/N? LIKE… JACK IF THAT WASN'T YOUR GIRL…”

“Don't finish that sentence, but yes.”

“Well divorce the wicked witch of the west so you can marry her.”

“Clay! Stop calling her that!”

“Why? It's funny and she's evil so it fits her personality.”

“Not the point!”

“Oh, so you agree?”

“Look, I’m going to try and make it work with Kelsey.” Jack told them, but at this point he didn't know if he was trying to convince them or trying to convince himself.

“I think I threw up in my mouth a little.”

—

You couldn't wait until your last case of the day since that would then let you go home and sleep until It was time to meet up with Jack. It was nice since Xavier was now on another one of his business trips, but you knew all that meant was his was with the woman who he was cheating on you with. He had hid it well when he first stepped out on you, but within the last year he had grown sloppy, but he still had no clue about you knowing.

It was still early in the afternoon when you decided to shoot Jack a quick text to let him know that he could now come over to your house seeing as your husband was nowhere to be found and went off to take a shower to wash the long day off of you.

You saw Jack's reply once you stepped out of the shower and he said that he would let you know when he was on his way. There were still a few more hours left to kill so you decided to take a short quick nap before he got there. But as much as you wanted to, your mind just wouldn't turn off.

The thoughts that consumed your mind consisted of Xavier and Jack and how you never should have ended your relationship with Jack because you knew for a fact that you would have been a lot happier. But, you loved Xavier too despite what he's doing to you even though it hurts to no end. He barely showed you any affection anymore and if he did, it felt forced. But when Jack did it? Felt like something out of a fairytale.

You simply wish you could fast forward to the part where you were happy.

Startled by a sudden knock on the door, you lifted your head to peek at your phone and noticed it was around 11:15 and instantly got excited because you knew it was Jack.

Once you opened the front door, you immediately tackled him into a hug as he kissed the top of your head.

“Hey Buttercup.” Your heart instantly fluttered hearing the nickname that Jack had given to you when the two of you were fifteen and the smile on your face couldn't help but to get bigger.

“Hey, I think the day went by extra slow because I couldn't wait to see you.” You replied as you stepped to the side to let him in.

Once he was in the foyer, he was taken in by his surroundings.

“You mean to tell me yall got this big ass house for only two people?”

“The goal was for it to be filled with little ones but that dream has quickly gone out the window.” You quietly answered and it looked like he was about to say something, but stopped himself.

But it came out anyway.

“You wouldn't want to be tied to someone like that for the rest of your life anyway. You deserve better than that.”

“I… I know. I just feel that I'm in a difficult position. But moving on because I know you didn't come here to hear me whine about him. Let me give you the grand tour.”

“It doesn't bother me. If you need to vent, I'm always going to be there to listen. No matter what time of day or night it is.”

“I really appreciate you saying that.”

Moving throughout the house, you showed him everything there was to see and you simply left your bedroom and closet for last knowing that he was going to spend at least an hour admiring your shoe collection.

Once you opened the double doors to the master bedroom, he simply laughed to himself.

“What in the world is so funny, Jackson?”

“I can tell that you designed this, didn't you?”

“He let me have at it so I simply did what I want with it.”

“So this is where the magic happens?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes.

“Magic? As in me using my vibrator because that is literally the only magic that happens here. Anyway, let me show you my closet because I know you'll definitely like it.”

“So, we're just going to skip over the vibrator part that you mentioned?” Jack asked and you simply shrugged.

“Not every guy is in tune with his wife's body and knows how to please her, but that's a story for another day.”

“He definitely should be and there's no excuse for that.”

Jack then followed behind as you led the way into the walk-in closet and he immediately took note of your shoe collection just like you knew he would.

“I… Well damn. Maybe you should be an ambassador for New Balance too.”

“I can't help it. I literally buy a pair every time I go out. And a lot of that time is spent thinking about how my life is a hot ass mess. Sorry I'm doing it again. Now what had you upset earlier?”

“You don't have to apologize and it was Kelsey.”

“What happened?”

“All I asked was if she could be more supportive since I have had a lot going on and been kinda stressed out. She took it upon herself to accuse me of saying she's not supportive at all and it turned into a screaming match. Well her screaming at me really.”

“Did she not comprehend what you were saying?”

“As of lately, it seems like she's not comprehending anything when she used to not do that. Clay calls her the wicked witch of the west.”

You couldn't help but to immediately laugh.

“I'm sorry, but that is hilarious.”

“It's sad to say but I've gotten used to it.”

“Why? You shouldn't be used to arguing with your spouse all the time.”

“No, but… I don't know. I always say that I want to try and make it work between the both of us but when I replay these incidents over and over again it makes me think that it might not actually be worth it.”

“Then if it isn't worth it, let it go. Why would you want to be married to someone like that anyway?” You said which was similar to what he had told you earlier.

“Hmm, you want the honest answer?”

“Of course I do.”

“Only because my real bride was already spoken for.” He answered while looking directly at you.

You didn't answer him as he had quickly gotten distracted with something hanging up in your closet.

“Wait… Is this my hoodie? You've had it all this time?” He asked while holding it up and inspecting it.

“Yeah, it was comfy so I decided to steal it and never give it back.”

“Hmm, how does your husband feel about you having your ex-boyfriend's hoodie?”

“Well it's a good thing he doesn't know now isn't it? It still smells like you too believe it or not after all these years. And why should he even care? It's not like we're having sex with each other because that's exactly what he's doing and ended up getting her pregnant.”

“We're not, but it definitely sounds like you need someone to please you because he's not doing his job.”

The two of you were now dangerously close as Jack once again started playing with the ends of your hair as the hand that wasn't occupied cupped your face. Before you knew it, he leaned in and his lips were on yours. After kissing him back you immediately pushed him away from you.

“Jack… we can't and you know that.” You said not believing your own words for a second.

“Is it the fact that we can't or the fact that you don't want to admit that you feel the same way about me as you did when you were fourteen?” He asked you as he closed the space in between the two of you once more.

When you were quiet, he asked you once again and your thoughts were running rampant.

“Y/N, do you want me to stop?” He asked as he began to kiss down your neck and you could feel the river that was beginning to form between your thighs.

“No.” You breathed out before bringing his face back close to yours.

His hand reached under your shirt and was surprised to find out that you weren't wearing anything underneath and began to massage them and roll your nipples in between his fingers instantly making them hard as he kept his mouth on yours.

You broke apart from him as he was simply staring at you with his thumb grazing your cheek.

No words were spoken as you led him back into the master bedroom with both of you trying to strip out of the clothes that you were wearing at a rapid speed.

Once you were left bare underneath him, he slowly inserted two fingers into you seeing how wet you were and he immediately smirked as he leaned down to kiss you.

You moaned into his mouth and that was when he increased his pace moving his fingers in and out of you.

By this point your eyes were closed and you rightfully gasped as you felt him take one long lick across your folds. Jack then spread your legs to the point where they were behind your head so that he would have enough room.

“I don't think your husband would take it too well that I'm fucking his wife in his bed but clearly someone has to do it since he can't get it right.” You heard him say and you let out a quiet laugh before you once again felt his mouth on you.

You couldn't even remember the last time that you were in that much pleasure, but knew that Jack was only getting started.

Between him using his mouth and his fingers, you knew it wouldn't take long in order for you to reach your peak and you decided to speed up the process by playing with your pierced nipples.

As you loudly moaned his name, Jack then went to suck on your clit and you knew it was only a matter of seconds before you were going to hit your peak.

“Oh, fuck. Right there, stay right there.” You said as your hands were now tangled in his hair in order to be able to keep him as close as possible.

“Baby, I’m about to…”

“Then do it.” Jack said as he broke away from you to answer but went right back to his original position.

Your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks that your legs were shaking, but Jack hadn't stopped eating you out which quickly made you go into having another one.

No sound was coming out of your mouth as Jack let you ride it out before detaching from you and crawling back up your body with him planting kisses on your skin along his path.

Once he reached your lips, he gave you several pecks before you felt his fingers now massaging your clit and he was now smirking at you.

“You ready for me, sweet girl? I can tell that your body is, but I need to hear you say it.”

“Been ready for you.”

As you noticed the precum leaking from the tip, you sat up and quickly took him in your mouth, making him hiss and throw his head back in pleasure.

You used your hand for where your mouth couldn't reach and you soon felt him twitch and took that as a sign that he was growing closer to hitting his peak when he suddenly lightly pushed you away from him and you quickly looked up at him confused.

“There's no way I'm about to last much longer and I need to feel you.”

“I'm on birth control, so it's all good. Nothing to worry about.” You said as you got settled once more at the top of the bed as he took hold of your hips and slowly entered you, leading to a moan escaping both of your mouths.

“You feel so good around me, but you have to relax baby and give me some room. Just relax, I got you.”

It was definitely easier said than done.

But once you did and the two of you got in a comfortable rhythm, your arms went around Jack's neck as he buried his face in your shoulder.

Hearing him moan in your ear let you know another orgasm was right around the corner as you then reached down to play with your clit. Your hand was soon replaced with his as you then heard the garage door open.

“Fuck, he's back early.”

“We're not leaving this bed until you scream my name, you understand?”

You immediately nodded your head as Jack then increased his pace as you were hoping to not get caught by your husband. But at this point in time, you didn't care.

The thrill of being caught got you excited.

“That's it. That's it, pretty girl. Are you going to cum for me? Cum all over my dick.”

Without another word, both of you hit your peak at the same time with you loudly moaning in his ear. As he was letting you recover, he placed kisses all over your body before planting one more on your lips which immediately made you smile.

“We need to hurry up and get dressed before he comes upstairs? Don't you think?” Jack asked but not before taking one of your nipples in his mouth and lightly sucking.

“Don't start because now we definitely can't finish.”

“Hmm… to be continued.”

Once the two of you slipped your clothes back on and made your way back downstairs you were now sitting on the couch with the television on as Xavier walked in.

“Oh hey, you're back early.” You said as he leaned down to kiss you which now left a sour taste in your mouth.

“I figured why not since I wanted to spend time with my wife. And who do we have here?”

“Jack this is my husband Xavier and Xavier this is Jack. We went to high school together and he was in town so we decided to catch up.”

“Nice to meet you Jack.”

“You too.” Jack replied as he was taking in meeting your piece of shit husband in person for the first time.

“Doesn't surprise me you two are still catching up at 3 in the morning. Y/N has always been a night owl.” He said in a somewhat accusatory tone, but Jack quickly shut it down.

“Well I had a premiere to go to and didn't get finished until late, but I was just leaving since I have an early flight.”

“Well next time you're here, we all should go out.” Xavier offered and Jack quickly agreed.

“Sure thing and I can bring my wife so it will be a double date.”

Hearing him say that immediately made your stomach go into a series of knots.

“Come on Jack so I can walk you out.”

Once outside and by his rental car, the two of you immediately busted out laughing.

“I don't think I've ever gotten dressed that fast before. That had to be some type of record.”

“I mean he could have always come in to get a few pointers from me.” Jack replied and you lightly hit his arm.

“What? You know I'm telling the truth. When's the last time he made you feel that good?” Jack asked as he whispered the last part in your ear and slipped a hand in your shorts.

“Babe…”

“I take that as the answer being never.” He said as he removed his hand and brought it up to his mouth to suck on his fingers.

“Taste so good and you are making it so hard for me to not fuck you again right here and right now.”

“Behave, Jackman!” You exclaimed as he quickly began playing with your hair and the two of you stood in a comfortable silence.

“Until next time, buttercup.”

“Until next time, Jackson.”

“Oh and I hope you don't mind me taking these?” He asked as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the purple thong that you had been wearing earlier before it got discarded on the floor.

“You know purple's my favorite color.” Was all he said before he placed a kiss on your cheek.

After Jack had drove off, you went back into the house and the realization of what you had just done hit you.

You just cheated on your husband with your ex-boyfriend.

And didn't regret it one bit.

[angel-eyes05]

only until midnight

pairing: prince charming!opla!sanji x cinderella!afab!reader

summary: after reaching your limits with your life at home, your outlook on life changes after meeting a certain stranger in the woods. your paths are destined to meet again at the king's ball later this week, but he seems to be more than what meets the eye. lucky for him, you are too.

warnings/info: nsfw (thats later in the fic though, so i'll mark it off when to stop reading, and when you can continue if you still want to read. the smut isn't integral to the plot i was just feeling horny lmao), THIS IS AN AU!!! if you dont like that this fic isnt for you lol, cinderella au, slight angst, lots of fluff after the smut, smoking (pipe cause its like the 1700s), first time/virgin reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up guys), reader's been through shit, no use of y/n (it kinda works cause he's not supposed to use her name and shit lol)

word count: 6.3k words

notes: i got this idea cause im playing grace in rodgers and hammerstein's cinderella and i was like ykw this would be really cute with sanji. i picked live action sanji because of 1) im more attracted to him than animated sanji lol 2) the british accent feels right for a prince 3) i dont know enough about him post time skip to like feel good enough to write for him (im only on sabaody). also ik the obvious look here is just to make the kingdom germa kingdom but again i don't know enough about post time skip one piece to write about it in confidence so im doing just a random kingdom in an au. the kingdom isnt even the main focus of this so it doesnt matter!!! also i didn't proofread, i didnt have the energy i finished this at 1 am my bad chat. lol enjoy

dividers by: @cafekitsune

It seemed as if the dirt was superglued down to the floor. As a part of your daily chores, your stepmother had ordered you to scrub the entire house floor until it was spotless. This one speck of dirt had decided to be particularly devilish with you and your consistent scrubbing. You let up from the brush, leaned back, and wiped the sweat brewing on your forehead. Some days were harder than others. The past eight years had been more of the same ordeal. Your father had married particularly quick after your mother’s illness took her, always leaving a sour taste in your mouth when you would linger on the thought. The woman had an interesting demeanor to her. She was sweet yes, but always with a twinge of condescension. She brought with her two young daughters, about your age. They were less deceptive of their malice, teasing you whenever your parents weren't looking. It wasn’t picture perfect, but then nothing was now without your mother. This was just your new reality, and you accepted it with grace and humility.

Then it happened. News came back to your house about a carriage crash involving your father. The image of your stepmother crumbling to the floor as the news was delivered was burned into your mind. Your family had to adapt fast, the house was in a vulnerable position now without a patriarch. The house staff was fired due to lack of funds, materials downsized, and tensions were thick with your new family. Drowning in grief and head of house duties, your stepmother never found the time to clean, and your stepsisters? Well let’s say they weren’t involved in that conversation from the start. You found yourself naturally taking the duty up on yourself. First it was just cleaning the dishes. It slowly grew as time went on, you had gone from daughter to maid. When your stepsisters would make your job harder for you, you would attempt to reach out to your stepmother for a glimpse of hope. Her beginning response was just ignorance, but as your chores became larger and larger, she turned into gas to fuel her daughters’ fire. As if matters couldn’t get any worse, your name was soon taken, along with your dignity and freedom. Bored today, your stepsisters found themselves brewing a new nickname for you.

“I got it!” The short one shrieked from the cushioned chair. The other quickly turned face her in excitement. “Cinderella!” There was silence for a bit, as taller one looked at her confusedly. The short one groaned. “Because shes always covered in soot and cinder from the fireplace.” The tall one took a second to think about it. “That’s too confusing. Plus it doesn’t have anything to do with her name! It has no ring to it.” “Well I’d like to see you come up with something better!” The short one retorted. “You don’t think I can do it?!” The tall one stood up in anger. You tried to block them out as you mopped the floor of the room around them.

“Watch it! You’re going to get my shoes wet with your dirty mop water!” The short one shouted. Blocked them out too much now. “My mistake,” you said, dully. “Ugh, you would think she’s a zombie or something,” the tall one groaned. You could tell your day was about to get worse when you heard the click of your stepmother’s heels entering the lounge room. “What’s all this ruckus you girls are making?” She asked, annoyed. “Oh mother I’ve got it! I’ve got her nickname!” The short one bounded out of her seat. “Don’t listen mother, it’s dreadful there’s no melody to it!” The tall one intruded. They began throwing hands at each other and yanking on the other’s hair. This was almost a daily occurrence when they began arguing. The shrieks had dulled your ears. Almost on routine, your stepmother raised her hand to cease the show. “Continue my dear,” she gestured to the short one. “We should call her Cinderella! Because she’s always around the fireplace!” 

The fire brewing in your stomach grew to a burst. “Stepmother please, they’ll only stop if you tell them so!” You exploded. The stepsisters gave an almost comedic gasp at your rare outburst. All your stepmother needed to do to get you back to your work was give you once glance worth daggers. She cleared her throat after the ordeal. “Girls, please try to keep the bickering to a minimum if you can, I’m trying to work out arrangements to the ball later this week.” Your sisters immediately started cheesing and cheering after hearing the news. 

You had almost forgotten about the event. The king was growing old of age, and with all his daughters married off to other kingdoms, his last hope for an heir was his unmarried son. The prince, the youngest of the king’s children, and the only son: Prince Sanji Vinsmoke. This ball was open to all the women in the kingdom. A playground for him to pick his new bride. Everyone and anyone had the chance, so of course the entire kingdom had been gushing about it over the past month.

Why bother though, you were most likely just going to be stuck in the house again that night. Your stepmother always found new ways to keep you busy on ball nights. “If you two keep quiet for the rest of the day, I will ensure you have the most beautiful dresses among the crowd,” your stepmother promised her daughters. They cheered and jumped into their mother for a hug. You couldn’t help but turn away from the sight, an ache growing in your heart, longing for your own mother back. “As for you,” she turned to face you and look you straight in the eye. “I need you to go into the market immediately and pick up some silk and lace to give to the seamstress for your sisters.” You nodded compliantly. “Yes stepmother,” you managed to speak. “No. It’s ‘Yes Ma’am.’ We’ve discussed this. Is that understood?” You nodded again. “Yes ma’am.” The woman smirked. “Thank you, Cinderella.” She exited the room, her daughters snickering to themselves and following her out.

You dropped the broom by instinct, hands too shaky to keep it steady in them. You covered your mouth to conceal the incoming sobs. You moved swiftly through the house out to the back where the horses were rounded up. You ripped a basket off the shelf outside, flopped on top of the horse, and whisked off into the backyard woods. You couldn’t help but let out your sobs. It was too much for you to take. You were trapped and things were only getting worse. You pulled on the reins of the horse to slow down. Once it slowed to a halt, you dismounted and tied the reins to a nearby tree branch. You walked to the center of the woods, and let out an ear piercing scream. You screamed until your vocal cords began to itch. It was the only way to let out your anger. You couldn’t explode on your family. The results of that were already clear. You didn’t want to explode on yourself. So the woods had become your sanctuary. A place to let it all out. After the noise could no longer physically leave your mouth, you flopped down to the floor and pulled your knees into your chest. Sobs left your mouth as tears flooded your eyes and pooled down your face. You just wanted your old life back. Your parents. Your freedom and dignity. Your name. 

The rustling of leaves nearby woke you from your breakdown. You lifted your head from your knees to find a man approaching from about 30 feet away. You immediately shuffled to your feet and looked at him bewildered. You picked up a sharp rock from the floor in self defense. “Woah, woah, woah! I mean you no harm I swear! I was just passing through!” The man defended, putting his hands up by his chest. The two of you circled each other at a safe distance for a little bit. He didn’t seem to mean any harm, dressed as a simple farm boy. His golden hair was too long, his bangs covering his left eye. He was fairly tall and skinny too, just enough meat on his bones, especially near his toned legs. What stuck out to you the most was the kindness in his eyes. Well, the kindness mixed with current fear. You were so enwrapped with observing him, you forgot you were currently threatening his life. You dropped the rock to the floor, and walked over to sit on a fallen tree log. He watched you for a little bit before you signaled him over to sit next to you. 

He wandered along over and took a seat down next to you, still keeping a safe distance though. “I was out riding when I heard a scream, so I decided to follow it. It went on for a while, so it was easy to track. I thought someone was in trouble,” he explained. “I’m fine,” you shot out. “The red in your eyes and your horse throat suggests differently.” You sighed and cupped your face in your hands. It stayed silent for a bit. Eventually, the man went into his pocket and pulled out a box of matches and a pipe filled with tobacco. Your head lifted up from your hands to watch his process. He struck the match and lit the tobacco, waited for the smoke to form, and then sucked it out of the stem. His eyes closed as he blew out a beautiful puff of smoke. He then turned to look at you and held out the pipe. With some reluctance, you took the pipe from his hands, held the stem up to your lips, and sucked out the smoke. Of course holding it in for too long, you coughed the lingering smoke out.

The man smiled and scooted in closer to you to hold your back as you coughed and took the pipe away. Once your lungs calmed down, you turned to look at him as he was admiring you. “Better?” He kindly asked. You nodded softly. He smiled and took another inhale of smoke before putting the pipe away. “And what would such a beautiful maiden you be doing out in the woods all by herself?” He inquired. You smiled at how cheesy the compliment was. “I could ask the same thing about you.” You both chuckled. He was the first one to explain. “Well I was just out for an afternoon ride, when your shriek took me off my path. And now, here we are I guess.” You nodded slightly and turned to look at the floor. 

“You still haven’t told me why you were screaming,” he mentioned. You sighed. “Just that sort of day I guess.” He nodded. “It just…gets too much sometimes.” As you felt your eyes welling up again, you also felt his hand rest upon yours. You turned to look up at him, a soft smile resting on his face. Naturally, your head fell onto his shoulder, and his head onto yours. You two spent a while like this. “Well, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be using all her voice up like that. Whoever it was that hurt you like this doesn’t deserve that much energy from you,” he consoled. You couldn’t help but blush a little bit. You had no idea who he was, yet you felt so comfortable with him. “You know, you still haven’t told me your name,” he said, lifting up his head. You lifted up yours as well to look at him. “Oh, um I-.”

You were cut off by the sound of trumpets coming increasingly closer. “Shit,” he said under his breath, scampering up off the log. You looked up at him confused. Was he in trouble with the palace law? Before you could ask any questions, he asked “Are you attending the King’s Ball?” Damn it. You would become a laughing stock to him, most likely being the only girl in the kingdom not attending. “Can’t we just see each other in the market tomorrow?” you suggested. “No, it has to be there,” he shot out. You thought to yourself for a second. Maybe with some extra chores, your stepmother would finally allow you. With hesitation, you finally answered. “Yes.” He smiled to himself. “I hope I shall see you there.” He seemed to move back towards you again, but halted as the trumpets began to blare again. “Have a good day madame!” he exclaimed, bolting off into the distant forest. You stood up as you watched the mystery man escape from your life. 

The woods seemed to disappear around you as your heart fluttered. The first person to show you kindness in eight years and you didn’t even catch his name. Stupid. You were snapped out of your daze when the sound of approaching horse hoofs stopped behind you. Three palace soldiers on horses stood behind you as you turned and curtseyed to greet them. “Good afternoon men,” you greeted. They bowed their heads in return as a sign of respect. The Captain of the Royal Guard was the one in very front. “Pardon the intrusion, but we’ve been in search of His Royal Highness. He seemed to slip away from his fencing lessons earlier this afternoon and the king has been worried sick. Villagers said they saw him passing by through the woods just a moment ago. Have you seen him?”

Oh my god. It occurred to you that you had been so cooped up in the house you had no idea what the prince looked like. That couldn’t possibly had been him back there though. He would have no business around some low life like you. “Do you possibly have a picture of His Highness?” You asked. One of the guards in the back searches through his satchel and pulled out a portrait of the Royal Family. You walked up and took it, examining the prince’s face. You would’ve thrown up right there and then if it weren't for the fact you were trying to help him escape. But those eyebrows in that photo were unmistakable. It was him alright. You just smoked off of the prince’s pipe. “No, I do apologize, but I don’t recognize him,” you said. The captain simply nodded. “Thank you ma’am. As you were.” He bowed his head as him and his men rode off. 

Shock pulled your heart from out of your chest and into your throat. You could hardly believe yourself. That must have been why he was so insistent on you attending the ball. But why? What could he possibly see in someone like you? 

There was only one way to figure out. You went over to your horse, untied him from the tree, and rode off into town, with a new goal. You had to attend that ball.

The week had practically zoomed by. You had the house to yourself most days, your stepmother and stepsisters always out at the market place trying on dresses for the ball. This time was mostly spent either practicing dancing, or sewing up your own dress. There wasn’t much material in the house, and god forbid you take one of the dresses from your sisters, so you took scraps of fabric from your mother’s dresses and pieces of fabric in drawers around the house to make your own. It took about the rest of the week to make, spending laborious hours towards its construction. The final product was a pink gown. It wasn’t nearly nice as your stepsisters’ gowns, but it would suffice for the evening. 

The night came and your stepmother and sisters could be heard shuffling downstairs preparing to get into the carriage. “Wait! I’m coming too!” you shouted down to them. They turned around and looked at you in shock. “Mother you can’t let her!” the tall stepsister shouted. “Yes it’s too humiliating to be seen with her! You can smell the soot from a mile away!” her sister rebounded. Their mother held their hand up, shushing them up immediately. “Now girls, if she would like to join us, that’s well up to her to decide. She’s a grown woman just like the two of you.” The girls looked at her in shock. Your eyes glimmered in hope. It was finally working, all your hard work had finally paid off. Your stepmother smiled at you. Something felt off though. Her eyes had that glint of malice in them. That glint whenever she was about to do something truly horrible. 

“Now Cinderella, where did you get this dress from?” she inquired. “Oh, I used materials from my mother’s dresses and some fabric around the house,” you hesitated to reply. “Hm.” She stared at you, circled you like a shark for a moment. “Darling, come here.” The short one stood next to her mother, looking up at you. “Isn’t her dress lovely?” the woman asked. Your stepsister rolled her eyes a bit. “Yes mother,” she groaned out. “You can really see the attention to detail.” She traced her finger along one of your chiffon sleeves. “Like these sleeves. This beautiful pink fabric. Darling, don’t you have a fabric like this in your closet?” Your heart dropped. You could see where this was going fast. Your sister took a moment to observe the sleeve. She gasped. “You little witch, I bought this fabric its mine!” She ripped both sleeves off your dress. All you could do was stand there, mouth agape and watching in horror. The tall one walked up next. “And these pearls were in my drawer!” She ripped them off your neck. 

Within the next 30 seconds, your sisters found some excuse to tear of each piece of fabric off your dress. You tried desperately to get them off you, but it was no use. Through the chaos, you could see your stepmother smirking by the door. Your eyes welled up with water as you could do nothing but watch. “Girls, girls!” your stepmother called out. “That’s quite enough!” The girls stopped, hair ratted, looking at what they had done to you. The tall one was smiling. The short one had the slightest bit of remorse in her eye. But it disappeared as soon as they collected themselves and walked out the door to the carriage. Their mother was about to follow them out the door. Before, she stopped. “Just as I said. Going to the ball is up to you. You’ll just have to decide if you want to go with a dress or not.” You couldn’t even say a word to her. “Goodnight, my dear.” She closed the door. 

The silence of the foyer was choking you. You mindlessly shuffled to the backyard. Disassociated beyond belief, you took a seat on a bench outside. The tears came out naturally, without you even making a sound. It was all gone. The chance at a normal life. Just go to outside and feel like a human being for the night. To see him again. He wasn’t even at the front of your mind for once. You just wanted to curl up and disappear.  

Out of the corner of your eye, a silver glimmer could be seen on the other side of the yard. You wiped your eyes and looked up to see a tall woman, in a beautiful white ballgown, a glowing wand in her hand, and..were those wings? You must be hallucinating, theres no way. Still being dissociated during the ordeal. The woman explained she was your Fairy Godmother, and that she could send you to the ball. She created a carriage out of one of the pumpkins in the garden, coachmen and horses out of the scuttering mice, and a magical light blue ballgown for you out of thin air. The finishing touch were a pair of shimmering glass slippers. You couldn’t believe your eyes. The woman explained the details of the spell. “While the spell lasts, no one at the ball will recognize you. This will give you anonymity.” That was a relief. You were worried over your step family. Prince Sanji probably wouldn’t either. You didn’t mind though. This was just an opportunity to get out there. “The spell will also wear off by midnight. That means all of this is gone by 12:01,” she continued. You accepted the terms, and next thing you know, you were off to the ball in your pumpkin.

As you stepped out of the carriage and onto the stairs for the castle, you felt like a little girl. Living out your dream as a princess. It was too good to be true. The other girls with their husbands walked gracefully up the stairs. You seemed to have gotten there a little late, everyone in the ballroom already. You gathered your courage, and your dress, and made your way up the stairs and into the castle. The beautiful golden accents and stone pillars were a marvel for the eye. The orchestra playing was more beautiful than you could ever imagine.

As you scouted the room, you could see the row of women lined up to greet His Highness. Sanji sat bored, more cleaned up from the last time you saw him and in a white coat with gold accents, and red dress pants. His hair still covered his eye, and you could see the king swatting at him to tuck it away. Embarrassingly, you caught yourself staring at him from up upon the balcony. Get a grip. It was stupid to spend your time fantasizing over a prince. He wouldn’t even remember who you were. But your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when you made split second eye contact with him. Before you could see him go back for a second glance, you had already made your way to wander about the rest of the palace. 

Ironically, you found yourself too nervous to dance with the other guests. You instead spent your time admiring the architecture of the castle. The grand piano in the center of one of the lounge room caught your attention. Your mother had taught you how to play when you were young, and wanting to see how well you remembered, you pulled out one of the sheets of music and began to play. Music filled the room as you became so wrapped in the passion of playing. It seemed as if hours had gone by when it was only mere seconds.

“No one’s played that old thing in years,” a familiar voice spoke. You could tell it was Sanji before even needing to turn around. You immediately ceased playing and jolted up from your seat. “Oh, I do apologize!” you shot out, frazzled.. “No, no, I’m sorry for startling you, my lady!” he interjected, walking closer to you and raising his hands up in defense. “I was just admiring the piano, Your Highness.” Remember you forgot to address him properly, you curtsey, your big dress laying on the floor, and lower you chin.

You hear his footsteps move towards you, then feel his finger as it rests underneath your chin and pull it up to face him. “Indeed.” You feel his hot breath on your face as your stomach swarms with butterflies. He’s closer to you than he intended to be. He looks at you with comforting eyes and a familiarity. That wasn’t possible though, the Fairy Godmother said the spell forbade anyone from recognizing you. You couldn’t help but wonder though what he was thinking right about now. All you could think about was how beautiful his lips looked right about now, spending moments to stare at them, as he did yours. Before anything can get too messy, Sanji clears his throat and steps away. “You played beautifully.” “Thank you, Your Highness.” “Please, call me Sanji, Your Highness is too formal.” You smiled at his suggestion.

“Do you know how to play it?” you asked him, trying to break the tension. “My father tried to get me lessons, but I had a hard time paying attention,” he said as he took a seat down on the piano bench. “I can try though.” He stretched his fingers and begun to play the melody on the sheet of paper. You took a few steps back and rested your head on the base of the piano, watching him hypnotically while he played. The was his fingers graced the keys was mesmerizing to the plain eye. Once he finished, he smiled and look up at you. “You’re blushing, my lady,” he teased. You immediately snapped out of your daze, lifted your head and cleared your throat. “Oh, my apologies.” “It’s quite alright.” Sanji looked out behind the door and noticed the music being played in the ballroom. He then bowed, reaching out his hand to you. “Would you give me the honor of joining me on the dance floor?” Your blush grew even hotter. “Oh, I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer.” He lifted up, and took your hand in his. “Well then, I suppose we will just make the rest of the castle our ballroom.” You stared at him confused. “We can’t have anyone else see you fumbling on your feet, can we?” You both giggled childishly as he took your waist and you rested your hand on his shoulder. 

Sanji’s feet seemed to glide across the floor as he took you into a dance. You tried to match his movements, but your feet couldn’t help but stumble as you twirled along the floor. Your breath got slightly heavier as your embarrassment grew. “Are you alright, my dear?” Sanji asked with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m not very well versed with this dance,” you replied. Sanji smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to teach you.” He began to call out the movements you needed to make for the dance. “Left foot to the right, right foot forward…and twirl,” and so on and so forth. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see how hypnotically his eyes were watching you as you twirled, eyes low and tracing your figure. “See, now you’re getting it sweetheart,” he said, voice deep and low, putting butterflies in your stomach. The two of you continued to dance throughout the halls of the castle, eventually making your way to the balcony you had spotted him the first time.

It had taken a bit to remember, but it suddenly struck that you were dancing with the prince. This thought was brought back to you when you noticed every guest at the party staring at you and Sanji up on the balcony. “Sanji?” you whispered. He hummed low in response. “Everyone’s looking at you.” He chuckled under his breath. “Trust me my dear, I’m not the one they’re looking at.” You couldn’t help but blush. As you scanned the crowd, you spotted your stepmother and stepsisters. The look of jealousy in their eyes couldn’t help but make you smile. “We should go somewhere,” Sanji brought up. “Where?” you asked confused. “Away from here.” “But what about your guests?” Sanji smirked an evil look as he put his mouth just up to your ear. “I don’t think they’ll mind darling.” The butterflies were back. 

It felt as if the two of you had been dancing for hours. You had no idea what time it was, or even where in the castle you were. All you cared about was being here with him. Little girls always dream about finding their prince. They never expect it to happen when they grow up. But here you were. Swaying on the outside terrace of the castle in the moonlight. Your head rested up against his shoulder, him looking down at you, as if nothing else mattered. You and your prince. Without another word needing to be said, Sanji straightened up, took your hand, and led you into the the darkness of the yard. The two of you came across a lone gazebo in a field of tall oak trees, lit only by the moonlight and a single candle lamp. After leading you inside, Sanji shut the glass door and lit a second candle in the gazebo with a nearby match. You took a seat on the bench wrapped around the building, flattening out your massive dress as it poofed up. 

Sanji walked over next to you and took a seat, smoothing your face with his thumb. He gazed into your eyes as you smiled lovingly towards him. “My dear, may I ask you something.” You nodded softly, eyes slightly closed. “Where did you manage to get this beautiful gown.” Shit. You didn’t know what to tell him. He would never believe you if you told him the truth, you’d look like a fool. “One of the tailors at the marketplace,” you made up. He hummed and moved in closer to you. Your heart started pounding.

“I wasn’t aware your family could afford such fine fabrics. With the clothes you were wearing in the woods and such.” Your heart froze. “How did you know?” you stuttered out. It couldn’t be, there was no way. The Fairy said this was part of the spell, how could he possibly know? “I could never forget a face as beautiful as yours,” the words falling off of his tongue like honey. Before you had the time to comprehend what he said or how he could know it was you, his lips had interlocked with yours. They must have been laced with something, the way you simply seemed to melt into his touch.

His hand wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer into him. Your hands found their way into his hair, entangling fingers between the locks. The kiss was long, sensual, as Sanji explored your mouth for the first time. All you could do was let him take the lead, your hands tracing down his neck, humming as his tongue slipped into your mouth. In a swift motion, overtaking your dress with him, he slides you on top of his lap, where his aching erection becomes noticeable incredibly quick. You could feel him throbbing, begging, beneath you. His hand fumbled down the poof of your tulle skirt, and up your bare legs as he went to feel your ass. 

As his hands went up, his mouth went down, leaving wet, sloppy kisses along your neck, sucking and marking as he went. You couldn’t help but make noise as he played with your ass like putty and sucked the essence out of your skin. “Oh could this really be happening to me,” you lowly moaned out. You could feel Sanji smiling against your neck, grabbing your ass harder in response. You could feel his cock growing bigger and his breath getting more frantic by the second. He suddenly moved his hands out of your dress, and separated his mouth from your neck, leaving a trail of saliva.

“May I?” he asked, desperation in his eyes. You froze up a little bit. “I’ve never done it before,” you warned. He paused for a moment, then nodded gently. “It’s okay, I’ll go easy.” You thought about it for a moment, then gave him a nod. With this, he effortlessly lifted you up in his arms and carried you to the gazebo floor. He laid you down gently on your back, then leaned back and unlatched his belt. He pulled his pants down ever so slightly, allowing just enough room for his cock to spring up in an almost comedic fashion. Sanji then pushed the fabric of your dress to the side as he searched for your underwear, getting closer to you. 

You see him come and lean over you, kissing the top of your slightly exposed breast as he guides his tip across your hole with his hand. He had barely inserted himself into you and you were already mewling like a wild animal. You only got louder as more of his shaft entered your dripping cunt. Your fingers dug into his back as he braced and let out a few groans of his own. “God you’re so tight…” he groaned. Once he was finally inside of you he began to slowly rock back and forth, sending waves from your cunt to your brain. 

His mouth moved back to yours as he absorbed all of your moans as his pace picked up. “So lucky I ran into the woods that day,” he gasped out between kisses and thrusts. “Your pussy’s so good. Molding perfectly to my cock.” You couldn’t even fully process what he was saying, so enwrapped in the experience at hand. You were sent into further delirium as he picked up the pace even more. Desperate for more of you, Sanji hiked up your leg onto his shoulder to get even deeper into your pussy. The bliss was overwhelming. “Go harder Sanji,” you managed to moan out. “I can take you.” Sanji couldn’t help but chuckle, but he still accepted your request, shoving more of himself into you as he slammed his tip into your g-spot. Your hand shot out to the side, grabbing at nothing but the concrete floor. Your back arched and hips buckled. This man had you at full disposal and you hadn’t even known him for a day. “Best pussy I’ve ever had,” he grunted. “Want to keep you with me forever.” As he picked his pace up again, you could feel something brewing in your lower stomach, no idea what this feeling was, but knowing it was coming fast. “S-Sanji, something’s happening,” you moaned out. He smiled and kissed your lips sloppily, like it was the last time he would. “I know my darling, just keep going for me.” 

The sounds of your ass cheeks hitting across the floor, your moans and his groans mixing into each other’s mouths, the dim lit gazebo, everything felt straight out of a porno. Your hips began to buck further as the heat continued to grow. You could tell the same thing was happening to Sanji too, his thrusts getting sloppier by the second. With the last final thrusts of his converging into your g-spot, the white heat finally rushed up the rest of your body as you experienced your first time of pure bliss and ecstasy. Your moans turned into mewls as your hand ripped at your dress for any sort of stability. As the orgasm died down, you felt Sanji’s aching cock slip out of you, as he turned away and finished on his own.

A sort of numbness scattered across your body. The experience left you exhausted, barely noticing Sanji crawling up and laying down next to you as he cleaned himself with a handkerchief and redid his pants. He planted soft, gentle kisses into your neck as he fixed you up and brought your dress back down to cover your legs. “Oh my darling you did so good,” he praised you. You looked at him, pure, unadulterated love in your eyes. “Thank you…for giving me this,” you choked out. His lips laced into yours as he hugged your hip. “I would give you all my love if you simply asked. This was just a treat.” You giggled like a little girl. He smiled back and continued to kiss you. 

In between kisses, you tried to talk to him again, but couldn’t keep from giggling as he shut you up before you could continue. “Sanji.” Kiss. “Sanji…” Kiss and giggle. “Sanji!” This time he slipped in a little bit of tongue. “Your father will be asking about you, we need to get back now.” Sanji let go and groaned like a little school boy. “Alright, fine. But only because I can give him an answer on who to marry now.” You turned to face him. “And who would that be Your Royal Highness.” The silence and the look in his eyes spoke for itself. You took a deep breath and begun to sit up, but not before Sanji could pull you back down into him for another makeout session. Your giggles interlocked with his kissing only made him fall deeper in love with you. “Alright. We can go. IF! You tell me your name finally,” he suggested. All you could do at him was laugh, his childish behavior hitting all your soft spots. “Alright,” you began “It’s-.” 

Before you could finish, you were cut off by the sound of the bell chimes from the grand bell tower at the front of the castle. How many times was that? Shit. “What’s wrong darling?” Sanji asked, sitting up. It was twelve times. You looked at him, frazzled and upset. “I’m so sorry,” was all you could manage to say as you ran out of the gazebo doors. Sanji’s face after you told him will be forever burned into your brain. 

You ran and ran and couldn’t seem to slow down. You couldn’t possibly, you had no idea how much time you had left. You made your way through the castle, Sanji close on your trails and sending guards to chase after you. You made your way down the entrance stairs and into your carriage, which you could see rotting away by the second. As you jumped in, you couldn’t help but turn around and watch the castle as you drove away. You could even see Sanji, staring longingly out for you.

This was only for one night though. You needed to get that into your head or you would run straight back to him. You had a life to live. And you needed to go back to fulfill your duty. But this one night. This one perfect night. This was one you hoped to never forget. 

a/n: you know how this story ends TRUST HE FINDS HER THROUGH THE SLIPPER AND EVERYTHING ENDS UP OKAY i just really didn't feel like writing all that lmao. hope you enjoyed (i sure did lol)

[veenus777]

◜Dad! Jason Headcanons ◞

          ┊ ᝰ﹕Characters : dad!jason todd x latino vigilant! Reader

          ┊ ᝰ﹕Summary: recently I saw a post from @super-marvel-dc here on Tumblr where she said her headcanons of Jason being a father of a big family, and it inspired me a lot! So I decided to share some of the crazy things that had been on my mind for a while about this. If you like this maybe it could become a series

(Link to the initial post by @super-marvel-dc, )

          ┊ ᝰ﹕Theme : nothing but fluffy and google translate english

- You and Jason had already been married for about two years, things were stable and happy for both of you, taking into account your busy vigilante lives.

- The first child to be adopted was Naomi, who was found when she was just 3 years old abandoned in the alley of crime, and since then you and Jason have had her as your daughter

- Shortly afterwards, things got complicated with a completely unplanned and surprising pregnancy, after all, after the incident, Jason thought he could not even have biological children,and nine months later you had twins Holden and Skyler

- Shortly after two years, a little boy named Austin had been rescued by the Gotham police after a major attack caused by the Black Mask, having arrested the culprit Jason felt the responsibility of taking the boy in

-And then came the twins Savannah and Aspen, who were adopted after a Wayne gala in support of Gotham Orphanage, the big surprise for everyone was Jason and Y/n adopted two of the children instead of Bruce

- After that came Hazel, a little girl who had been purposely abandoned at the mall by her mother.

- and then we had river, a boy from a troubled family who lived in the alley of crime, and with him little darcy who was protected by river while her parents were too busy spending all their money on drugs

- And that was how the simple routine maintained by two people over five years together, in less than three years multiplied, becoming a family of eleven people

- At first things were chaotic but over time a routine was established, Fridays were reserved for friends, Saturdays for meetings and Sundays for family.

- Jason despite initially being terrified of fatherhood and literally shaking with fear, things changed in a short time, this man read every book on pregnancy, fatherhood and positive parenting he could find, he watched vlogs and tips on YouTube and Instagram from mothers and fathers on how to care for and educate their children, and I say with conviction that he has become an incredible father and making it his personal mantra to become the father he wishes he had had

- because you have children of different ethnicities, you reserved one day a week with us. traditional cuisine dinner, holidays with foods typical of each place, you made sure your children knew about their respective cultures and origins

- As a Latina by blood and raised in a Latin neighborhood in Gotham, you made sure your children learned your native language (Portuguese or Spanish, you choose lol), in addition to obviously the house being always filled with cultural music and food

- Speaking of home, in a short time you had to exchange your beautiful industrial loft in the center of Gotham for a large farm-style house that was about 40 minutes from Gotham, after all, you refused to raise your children in the chaos that was that city. by the way, don't tell bruce but you and jason had to accept many jobs in addition to surveillance and batman's rules to be able to pay for everything, but for the comfort of your children it was worth it

- Since the family grew abruptly, visits to the mansion became less frequent, but you and the children still visited at least once a month, especially when you needed a free babysitter. It is worth mentioning that for a long time they will be the butt of jokes on family holidays due to the large number of children

- You keep the life of vigilantes away from the children's reality, they don't even know about their second identities because you feel better knowing that you are keeping them away from this world, despite this you both agree that you will bring the truth to light when they are old enough

- Despite not wanting anyone anywhere near a gun or robin uniform, they all know self-defense and some type of fight or sport.

- An additional thing is that Jason sees himself on the river a lot, especially when he was younger, and that's why he always tries to be a present for him.

-Meanwhile Austin is the little version of Dick which makes Jason wish for death many times while you just laugh at the whole situation finding it hilarious, and all of this gets worse after I give Austin gymnastics lessons which results in Jason taking his son away from him. you from the roof of the house after ending up stuck in one of the tiles.

.˚｡  💋 .˚｡ 💌

[ukranianacearo]

"Mother", a strong word

Part 2 Part 3

F!reader

Word count: almost 4k

Mention of Innocent zero's real name.

Tw: Mentions of starvation, enslavement (like what Russian empire did to Ukrainians back in 18-19th centuries), mentions of blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of birth, harrasing, and attempts at SA and I think that's all. Please, do inform me if you see more.

Pairing: romantically there's none, but reader has to marry Innocent zero.

Genre(?): angst.

Tags: @aiscreamcake (I thought you would be interested)

Author's note: This has been rotting in my brain for over a week and @fellow-anime-weeb927 post only strengthened this lol. Sorry for any mistakes, I didn't recheck it before posting and English isn't my first language. More under cut.

---------------------------------------

Escaping the empire would be dangerous and risky. But even death would be better than what you had to endure. Your nation has been occupied and enslaved by another nation for centuries already, poisoning your people's minds, destroying your culture and language and killing those who were against the system. You weren't a person. At least wasn't considered one. Your lord, the one who owned your family, was a cruel man. Not only towards you and your family, but even to his own kids and his ill wife. When times got tough even for him, you were only 5. His wife's condition worsened, she got bedridden; there even was talks about her possible death. It was the first time he tried forcing himself on you. Fortunately for you, you escaped. Times got worse with the arrival of international market. Selling got worse and so did your family's condition. Your lord paid less and less, to the point where your family starved for days, sometimes even weeks. The first to die was your youngest brother; he was only 3 years old when he died of starvation, you were 6. Two months later, your mother died. The same cause, the same ground buried her. There has started to run rumors about the lord marrying you, since his wife will die soon and he had kids to take care of. Your father had no say in it, after all, you and your family are nothing more, but his property.

You were 7, your oldest brother died at the age of 17. He too, died of starvation. After a few months, your last brother died, at the age of 16. You and your father were devastated, but you only could bury your brother next to your other two brother and your mother. One of the days, you heard your lord talking with his friends about some ships taking people to another land, to another country. But, it was really risky, you could die from any cause there; not that it mattered to you, you could never even imagine having the money to buy tickets for you and your father. So you just continued working. A year passed, then another and now you're 9. One of the evenings, your father didn't come back and you started worrying. You had nowhere to go and seek him, but the lord's house. When you arrived at the door of the house, it was open and you could see your father and the lord talking about something. While trying to focus on what they were saying, you leaned slightly against the door, making sure it didn't move nor made any sound. It was muffled, but you could understand that they were discussing your marriage with the lord. Your father tried to reason that you were just too young for the lord, you only 9, after all. But the lord didn't care.

That day, you lost your father and killed your lord. That day was also the second time your lord trying to force himself on you.

You buried your father next to the graves of your family members the best you could. It was the middle of the night and lord's kids were sleeping in their respective homes, since most of them were old enough to have it. Not caring about lord's dead corpse laying on the floor of his house, you took the money there was; you didn't know how much a ticket to the other country would cost, but even if you had more than needed, it was better to have more than less.

...

The travel wasn't pleasant at all, but you finally was here. Most people at the port called it The Magic Empire. You didn't know if it was because there was actually magic and people could use it without being punished or if it was because people's dreams and wishes would be satisfied. Noticing that many people had some lines on their faces, you didn't want to stick out so you decided to use your necklace. Clenching it in your hand you increased the zone affected by it. Feeling their magic power being stored in the necklace, you changed the course and way of the magic in the necklace to create an illusion of a mark similar to the people around you. As you put the hood of medieval cloak on your head, you start going in the city; the cloak covering your figure completely, hiding the broken clothes you wore; a pair of pants and a T-shirt.

...

In the past 5 months you lived in the Magic Realm, as people from here called it. You were fortunate enough to know the language that people speak here, since you learned it from a dictionary someone threw out while you were still living in your home country. But, life was still challenging, of course. Although, 'challenging' would be an underrating. This realm worked such as higher your magic power - higher your status. So, you had to lie, to live a lie; you didn't have your own magic, you only could use or manipulate magic that you 'stole' with the necklaces. If you stole it by defeating a person, that person's magic was copied by one of the necklaces, and if you 'stole' it by just increasing the area that was under the necklaces' cancellation of magic, you could use a person's magic for as long as they were in the area + a certain amount of time after they were out. In these past month you have worked as anything you could: cleaning people's shoes, selling newspaper, running errands for people, etc... You did your best and most of the errands were done perfectly, and your employers were satisfied with your work, paying you a bonus every now and then. You tried to save as much as possible while still eating something at least once a day. Your plan was to go to a middle magic school, but to do so you would need to deceive many people and even the government, so that they could think that you had actually alive parents, at least. For that, you would need to defeat someone who possessed a mind controlling power and you only had three years to do so: that's when middle school start.

...

It was easier than you thought. That boy really thought he could use you as a punching bag, but ironically, he was the one laying on the cold and dusty ground. Now, you're one step closer to succeeding.

...

This mind controlling magic was actually something. You carefully created a well written story for your play, the realm your stage and everyone the audience. The school you wanted to go accepted you, just like you planned. And thus, the played started.

...

No one has suspected a thing. Which feels kind of weird. But you decide to continue the show, there's nothing else to do.

...

The middle school was good, it had bedrooms for every pair of students, a kitchen and many more things. Just a perfect entrance of a grand show.

...

Few years past by, and it's time to decide the academy where you'll go. There were three options, the ones that will appreciate the show. Easton Magic Academy, Walkis Magic Academy and Saint Ars Holy Magic Academy; in Saint Ars, rules are most important thing and rule breakers are punished harshly. Definitely not for you: you would be considered a criminal at this point. Walkis focused only on strength which is also not the best, tho this academy produced the most divine visionaries at this point. So, you're left with Easton Magic academy.

...

The entrance exam was pretty easy. After that you were assigned to the Orca dorm. Not bad. You can work with this.

...

Eyes. No matter where you went, they followed you, like the hunting past. Were you in class, in the kitchen, training or even in the deep past, you remember eyes following you like a predator. When you were in middle magic academy, you didn't have time to ponder about it at all. Nor when you were doing errands for someone to earn extra money. Sometimes, when you tried to look at the one who was the person with such intense curiosity, you only saw white hair of a passerby, who you guessed was your classmate. Trying to follow that person was impossible, it's like they disappeared the moment you approached the place where magic lingered the most. It haunted you. You had a guess who it was, but with no evidence, you could do nothing, but try to be careful around that person. Cyril Marcus. He was the only one who had those long white locks. And his magic... Rather he used basic spells or his personal time magic or even if he didn't use any at all, you could always sense that difference between his magic and the magic of other people. When a person's potential is great in terms of magic, you can sense their magic differently. But this scared you very much. Even if you knew that your necklaces worked on him as well, you were scared. Better treat a gun as a loaded gun and not as a non loaded one. He seemed much eager to fight against you in the tournament for divine visionaries' candidates.

...

Your fight against him just ended. You won. After all, he was nothing without his magic. But, in your opinion, he was more testing you than fighting you. Right now, it was break time before continuing with the tournament. As you sat on one of the couches in the room, you clenched the necklace in your hand. The other three core necklaces were still deep inside your skin, in the same spot, even after all these years. The square body of the necklaces had some difficult artistic style. You still couldn't figure out which one exactly, but it resembled the baroque style very much. The black hook that was on one of the edges of every body wasn't as delicate as it seemed, just like the black chain that went through it, embracing your neck loosely.

-"You seemed so brave out there, but look at you now." - You snapped your head towards him, the look of shock on your face making him chuckle. His mocking tone didn't help, as it made you more uncomfortable. But you were used to the feeling, so you didn't let it show just like always. - "Don't look at me like that, it makes me think that you didn't expect me." - Deciding to play safe you calmed down your expression to a neutral one and let go of the necklace.

- "What do you want?" - There was no need for chit chat, especially between you two. You two weren't on bad terms exactly, but you weren't friends either. Still, your suspicion about him being the person who stalks you was present on your mind.

- "You're so straightforward, as always."

- "It's better to save the time and energy used to talk about nothing." - As you crossed you arms across your chest while Cyril smiled in that typical sly smile, although to you, it looked more like a smirk.

- "This...show that you play in front of everyone is quite the spectacle. I must admit, it took me a while to see the truth."

- "What are you talking about?" - In this type of situations it's better to play dumb. You couldn't afford for the show to end just yet. It would be a fiasco. Anyway, how did he figure it out? Has he been stalking you for so long just because of that? You made sure he couldn't see your thoughts on your face.

- "Don't play dumb. We both know what I'm talking about. At first I thought you were just a 'Disgraceful Mage', just to find out later that you are magicless. I must admit, your cover is good enough to make me think about you and your magic for quite the years. This fight in particular has confirmed my suspicion. Your necklace isn't just an accessory, am I right?" - His words froze you as he pointed at your necklace. The situation got to the point where you couldn't just deny your way out.

- "It would have been better if you continued thinking that I was a 'Disgraceful Mage'..." - You mumbled, making Cyril look at you with a curious smirk. - "What do you want from me? You wouldn't be here just to talk with me, would you?" - You tried to stay calm, but it was the first time someone saw past your costume. Instead of the character in the play, he saw the actor. You already realized why he was going in circles while fighting. He was out of the zone affected by the necklace, so he still could see magic power. Truly, that potential you saw in him would be enough to end your show.

- "Don't worry that much, I wouldn't want for the show to end just yet. After all, you could call me the most loyal fan of your spectacle. Who else would sit and watch it, while seeing your true form and not the character's?" - It was as is he read your thoughts with magic, although it was impossible, your necklace still worked around you. - "I don't mind your magicless nature, but what about others?" - He slowly walked closer and sat on the couch in front of you - "I'm sure you know they wouldn't accept you if they knew, otherwise you wouldn't be putting this good of a performance. How convenient that I have just the offer for you, wouldn't you say so? You see, I plan on becoming the perfect human, but for that I need to find more knowledge and strong allies."

- "What do I have to do with all of that?" - The palms of your hands have started sweating, but you still somehow managed to act calm enough. Hearing your words, Cyril smirked slyly and put his leg on the other.

- "We both know that magic users tend to rely very much on magic - myself included - and you're someone who shifts their situation a lot with just a lift of your hand. Or even without it. As years went on, you taught yourself to manipulate that necklace very well. When the time will come, I want you to join my association and plan. Of course, I, on my end, will make sure the government won't get you." - It was tempting, but the actor can't just disappear from the stage, it wouldn't be fair. You clenched your left wrist with your hand as you looked at him a bit troubled, trying to stay calm. Seeing your hesitation, Cyril chucked. - "Don't worry. I will give you time to think about it. But when I'll come for an answer, I hope you'll have it." - He said as he got up, walking towards the door in his usual slow and elegant way. You wanted to answer, say at least something. But it felt as if the words got stuck in your throat, sinking in your stomach, leaving you alone with your thoughts haunting you, trying to come up with something, anything. - "So long, dear actress." - He left the room as the voice of a commentator announced the break time over. You were left alone, looking at the floor while your thoughts got to you. How could you afford such a mistake? Your performance was supposed to be perfect, without even the slightest flaw. Clenching the necklace you tried not to let emotions get the best of you. Even if there was a break between the acts, the actor shouldn't forgot that they're an actor. People are supposed to only see the character that they portrait, not the person behind it. One person in the audience saw the actor as they are, but that shouldn't matter. Especially when the person continues to watch the show peacefully.

...

- "Tell me, Cell war," - You started while watching your 'son' in the tank, or better say, in an incubator. Cell war, who was a creation of Innocent zero, turned to look at you patiently, waiting for you to continue. In the past years, Cyril Innocent zero really weird choice of name got to know that for achieving his goal to become "The Perfect Human", he needed six hearts of blood related family. That's how you got to this scene of the show. The audience changed, but the actor and that one specific person stayed the same people, probably. He mixed his DNA with your to create a life. You promised yourself that no matter what, your 'sons' won't live as bad or even worse than you; you would not allowe it as long as you breathe. - "How do you feel about his plan?"

- "If it's something 'father' wants, then it should be done."

...

- "You shouldn't be up this late." - You said in a scolding voice while standing behind the four young boys that stood outside your bedroom door.

- "Mother!" - They four said in unison, as they turned around to look at you. Fanim and Delisaster immediately went to hug you by your legs, since they didn't reach any higher yet, while Doom and Epidem stood by your sides taking your hands in theirs. They all seemed very exited and happy to see you again.

- "We wanted to see you the day you came back from this mission, so we stayed up." - Doom explained in a shy manner. You patted their heads as you hummed, giving a sign of acknowledgement.

- "That's very sweet of you, boys. But you shouldn't lose sleep just because of me. Sleep is fundamental for your health." - You answered in a caring voice, you truly couldn't be angry at them for long. Hearing your words, they looked between each other and then all looked at you.

- "But, mother is also very important for our health." - Delisaster started.

- "You train and play with us." - Doom continued.

- "You don't get angry at us for the slightest mistake and explain everything that we ask you to." - then Fanim continued.

- "And you give us all kinds of sweets." - Epidem finished. You were shocked. All of them were still so young, but understood so much. It wasn't uncommon in your experience, many kids you knew from the streets when you were younger had to grow up too soon - yourself included. But these four boys didn't live that life. Your best guess was that they were so aware of everything because of Innocent zero, their father. You smiled softly at them as you hugged them all.

- "What would I do without you guys, hm?" - They basked in your attention. - "But you gotta go to sleep now, it's already late." - Hearing that they whined in unison, but obeyed and you guided them to their rooms.

...

- "Did you see mother?" - Delisaster asked Doom, as the later was sharpening his sword. The former couldn't find you for a while now and he really wanted to show you one his new tricks with his pole arms.

- "Did you not know yet? She fell into a coma." - Doom tried to act as calm as possible, but in reality he was devastated. The fact that you just fainted out of nowhere wasn't positive at all, especially for the sons. There was no logical explanation for this and no one could figure it out. The ones who were probably affected the least were Domina and Mash, who were still too young to understand it. The room fell into silence's embrace as Delisaster tried to process the devastating information he just learned.

...

- "Domina, you should be useful. That's what mother and I would want. You understand, right?" - His sly tone of voice echoed in the small dark room that could barely be called a bedroom. He stood in front of Domina, looking at the small boy from his height. - "We must do it so that mother can wake up. Do you want her to wake up? Domina."

- "Yes, father." - The small boy looked pitiful. His pink-ish hair was cut just above his shoulders with bangs covering his eyebrows. He was just around 5 years old, yet he seemed as if he didn't eat enough. Domina's was determined to do anything to help his mother regain consciousness and make his father proud. What he didn't understand was that, he shouldn't be the one to fight for it.

...

- "I see you still don't understand, Mash Burndead. If you continue to fight against it, mother won't wake up." - Doom said as he blocked one of Mash's punches.

- "I don't know that mother much, but I'm sure that destroying the world won't help wake her up." - Mash answered in a usual monotone voice as he punched Doom in the abdomen.

...

- "Who is she?" - asked a tall man with white hair and a big sword at his hip.

- "She was retrieved from the castle. Supposedly Innocent zero mixted his DNA with hers to create the six sons. Her name is [Y/N] [L/N]. She studied in Easton Magic Academy back in the days alongside me and Innocent zero. Was reported missing by some acquaintances after graduation. Later on was discovered that she lied to the government, a lot." - Another tall and old man with grey hair answered.

- "So she's also Mash's biological mother... I wonder why she joined Innocent zero in his plan." - The tall man with the sword murmured.

- "I'm sure Innocent zero had some cards in his sleeves to play to manipulate her. She wouldn't go for such length just because of someone else's desires. Especially Innocent zero's, she couldn't care less about the man."

- "Maybe she was in love with him." - The tall man with the sword suggested turning his head slightly to look at the old man. Right after the man finished his sentence, the old one started laughing; when he finished laughing he sighed and started talking.

- "That's impossible, Kaldo. Not even love potions could make her feel something so deep. She herself said that she was unable to feel such love since birth; her brain lacked in that part. I guess she had a secret that the world shouldn't know and Innocent zero knew it."

- "Like what?" - the curiosity got the better out of the man with the sword.

- "Hmm, I don't know. We should ask her after she wakes up. For now, call Mash; I wanna talk with him." - The man with the sword bowed and walked out of the door, while the old man continued looking at the woman in the nurse bed. - "Mother, such a strong word, huh..."

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And that's it :D I hope you enjoyed this fanfic. If you want to be added into the tag list, please comment.

[devourable]

♛ the princess

sfw | tags : fem!yandere x gn reader (only prn used for reader is ‘you’), yandere behavior, stalking mentions, power dynamic, manipulation

the last of my ladies for now! althea, the meanie princess <3 sorry if this is kind of a mess but yall know me by now lol. i can finally start working on my nb yans now 🥹

this one goes out to all the girl likers following me. mmmwah

“i’m gonna marry you one day! we’ll always be together!”

little althea made the claim over and over throughout your childhood, so often that it was normal for you to hear. having lived in her castle since your parents began working for hers, you were the only other person her age that she had to play with.

to say she was attached to you was an understatement. she adored you!

but little you was oblivious to all of her proclamations, assuming it to all be pretend. just a game! sure, it got a little weird when she continued to say it even when you grew into adolescents, but there was no harm in it, right?

you hadn’t the slightest clue to just how serious she was.

see, althea always, always got what she wanted. she was the princess, after all! and the sole heir to the throne. new clothes, the finest food, and the most lavish castle to live in — all of it was hers, the moment she asked for her. but none of it could ever satisfy her the way your presence did.

her adoration for you kept your family employed and her parents happy. she clung to you like a vice, always insisting you dressed up together and went to all of her classes and such. you kept her tantrums at bay in a way no one in her family had ever seen before.

and when you weren’t around, or something (or god forbid, someone) dared to take your attention away from her? she was a nightmare. a fussy, loud, violent nightmare that wouldn’t be anything but a purposeful nuisance until you were returned to her. so it was always in everyone’s best interests to ensure you were together. words of appreciation and gifts from everyone within the castle was a norm for you, incentives to convince you to stay by the young princess’s side.

it was how it had always been, even as you developed. you figured althea would grow out of her clingy behavior toward you — and to an extent, she did. as you aged and developed individual personalities, everyone was relieved when the princess grew out of her cranky attitude and into the sweet, delicate young lady that was expected of her. the ideal princess who spoke in a gentle tone and expressed love toward the people she’d rule in the future. you could ignore how she always held your hand a little too tight when you were alone together, or how she insisted on kissing you on the lips every day (“it’s normal for us,” she’d claim! neverminding how she’d always seem to ‘accidentally’ leave your face smeared with her lip gloss). she had become a better person, so you could indulge her, right?

because of the change, though… no one had any clue that althea couldn’t care less for the kingdom. no matter how much she was taught to cherish those she’d rule over, she saw them all as little more than a responsibility that she was created to care for later in her life. it irritated her to no end and her only reprieve was you. you kept her going, kept her motivated to be the good little lady she was supposed to be, kept her from shirking her duties and whisking you away like she had fantasized about doing countless times.

despite the seemingly positive impact that growing up seemed to had made, everyone was still quite surprised when althea allowed you to leave the castle to live your own life years later. you were hers, didn’t you know? but you weren’t royalty, so you saw no point in staying — besides, you wanted to see the world beyond the castle walls. so she bid you goodbye, kissed you on the lips once more, and waved you off as you left the home you had shared up until then.

however… when you tried to make a name for yourself on your own, it felt like nothing ever went your way. you never noticed how there were always a few of the palace knights lingering around every public building you went to afterwards. nor did you really pick up on why most places you applied to work at turned you away. and why did you always get kicked out of your hostels after just a few nights’ stay? it was like life was rejecting you as soon as you tried to enter it. but kind, gracious althea was always there to pick up the pieces for you, loaning you money when you needed it and lending you a space to stay when you had nowhere else to go.

she’d never directly ask you to come back full time, oh no. she was willing to play the long game. to let you learn on your own that you needed her to survive.

it got to a point where you didn’t know how long you had been away from her. months? weeks? a year? the world was just so cold and harsh when you didn’t share it with althea! you were in and out of jobs, homes, and was only known as the princess’s former friend rather than your name. you couldn’t take it. you couldn’t live like this, who could? so the day you finally stumbled back onto the palace doorstep, shaking and soaked from a storm you had gotten caught in, althea welcomed your return with open arms. she cleaned you, clothed you, and fed you the food you were used to eating.

silly you, trying to leave your future fiancee. she wished she didn’t have to let you go through all that you did, but you had to learn one way or another! and now that you had, you’d never have to do it again.

you’ll stay right by her, in the castle, till the very end.

after all, she did say you’d always be together, didn’t she?

[honeyhotteoks]

a little more love to give (j.yh + p.sh)

summary: fifth and final installment in the husbands series; it's been years, and you life with them has grown, you just don't expect your second baby to be a surprise. part one: room for three || part two: and if i stay || part three: their gift || part four: hold fast together

note: 18+ content, minors DNI. // i'm back.... with the final installment of the husbands series. it's essentially all fluff and tender smut, definitely less hard than previous chapters but you know, they're parents now lol

warnings: non idol!yunho, non idol!seonghwa, fem!reader, married!yunhwa, established yunhwa x reader relationship, mmf, brief mention of trouble conceiving, pregnancy, discussion of early pregnancy symptoms like nausea, headaches, dizzy/fainting spells, nervous!yunhwa, some physical body descriptions relating to body change with pregnancy including weight/physicality, but on a fun note...... praise, degredation/humilitation, body worship, so much fucking oil, vaginal and anal fingering, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), cumshots, mention of sir kink but not used, lots of verbal instruction, lots of breast and nipple play, nipple clamps, light pain play, gratuitous use of good girl, sweet girl, pretty girl, etc., essentially if you don't want to read pregnant!reader sex, don't read this but honestly they're pretty in love and i thought it was cute - please let me know if i missed any.

pairings: yunho x seonghwa x reader

genre: smut, fluff, domestic / slice of life

word count: 11.4K

my masterlist || read it on AO3

special note - their daughter's name is dasom, which literally translates to love in korean. seonghwa calls her 'nae sarang' which also translates to 'my love'. i think after all the trouble they had getting pregnant, there's nothing else they would want to call her but love. i just thought that additional context might be nice for some readers. please enjoy, and thanks for sticking with this one. x

You’re tucked away in the dim light of your bedroom nursing a headache when you hear the front door of your apartment swing open. Checking your phone for the time, you wince at the bright light and press the lock button again quickly to dim the screen. You have unanswered messages and notifications, but you can’t even think about that with the way your head is aching, you’re just glad it’s not as bad as it was a few hours ago. 

With a sigh you stay settled under the covers and opt to listen, your husbands getting home from their respective days downstairs. 

“Oh,” You hear Seonghwa say first, “hey, Nari,”

Your best friend’s voice is bright and clear, echoing up the stairs and you know she’s in the entryway to greet them, “Hi, Seonghwa,” and then a beat later, “baby, look who’s home!” Her voice lilts up, playful and fun.

Your daughter makes a joyful, bubbly sound, “Appa!” 

“Come here, nae sarang,” He’s hauling her up into a hug, you just know it. 

You duck your head up out of the blankets to listen more closely despite the throb behind your temples. 

“She’s getting so big,” Nari says.

“Mhm,” Yunho’s low voice murmurs, “a proper little princess now,”

Your daughter giggles, and you smile.

“Where’s y/n?” Seonghwa finally asks.

You had all but begged her to keep your secret, but Nari is a terrible liar and all she can do is stumble over her words, “She’s, well, you know her, she’s,”

“Nari?” Yunho asks, a laugh in his voice still.

“Princess,” Seonghwa coos to your baby girl, “where did your mommy run off to?”

There’s a long pause, and you can almost picture your baby’s teary face, round cheeks pink and wet with fat tears. It took so long to get her to stop crying in the first place. “Eomma,” she wails, and you grit your teeth.

“Oh, aegiya don’t do that,” Nari soothes, “it’s okay,”

“Shh,” Seonghwa croons, and you know he’s rocking her from side to side. 

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa sounds confused. 

“Ah. I just got her calmed down,” Nari sighs.

“E-Eomma!” She wails again and this time Yunho’s voice isn’t so casual.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” He maintains a light tone for her, but you can hear the anxiety in it, “Where’s mommy?”

“She,” Nari starts to say. but your daughter’s bubbling wail cuts her off.

“Eomma f-fell down!” Another pointed sob. 

“What?” Alarm is laced through Seonghwa’s voice, “Is she alright? Why didn’t someone call us?”

“She’s completely fine,” Nari assures, “she just called me to come watch Dasom after,”

“After what?” Yunho presses.

“Hush, baby, it’s okay,” Seonghwa croons, trying to even out your baby��s cries.

“Where is she?” Yunho asks insistently, trying to keep calm in front of Dasom. 

“She’s not hurt, she didn’t even hit her head, she’s just,” Nari back tracks, “sorry, okay, she’s in your room,”

You hear jogging, footsteps hurrying up the steps, and Dasom wails again, Nari’s soothing tone humming as she takes your daughter back in her arms. 

The door pushes open wide, Yunho’s eyes searching and nervous, “Hey,”

“Hey,” You murmur, groaning a little at the harsh hallway light, “oh, please shut the door, the light,”

Seonghwa pushes the door shut as Yunho crosses the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking you over, “What’s going on?”

“I’m okay, don’t worry,” You reach for his hand and give him a squeeze, “Dasom just got scared because I’m not feeling well, and I asked Nari to come over so I could get some rest,”

Seonghwa eases onto the opposite side of the bed, scooting over until he’s sitting up against the headboard by your side, “she said you fell? Fell how?

You sigh into your pillow, “I was making her lunch, and I got dizzy,” 

Yunho’s eyes flick to his husband’s, then back to yours, “Okay,”

You know they’ll panic when you say it but they’ll find out no matter what, “I fainted, which I think just seemed scary to Dasom,”

“Did you hit your head?” Yunho reaches for you, fingertips soft on your jaw, “Should we go to the hospital?” 

You shake your head, “No, no, I caught myself fine,” 

“I still think a doctor,” Seonghwa sounds nervous, “you fainted out of nowhere? I saw you eat this morning,” 

Your mind flicks back to when you threw it all up in the hallway bathroom while Dasom was down for her nap, how you pulled yourself up and rallied to make her a little lunch and then found yourself stumbling in the kitchen, your daughter’s nervous voice in your ear. 

“I don’t need a doctor,” You assure him, “I just need a little rest,” 

“Come here,” Yunho slides closer and lays his hand across your forehead, “you don’t feel warm,” 

“It’s not a fever,” You murmur, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm before letting him pull away. 

“If you felt bad enough that you needed to call Nari,” Seonghwa shakes his head, “that you couldn’t keep an eye on Dasom, I think it’s serious enough that we should see a doctor, jagiya,” 

You wanted to tell them later, to confirm things with a blood test first, to make sure everything was going well before you announced the news, but you suppose there are enough signs that you’re sure. Little things you had been brushing off for weeks, not to mention the positive test from the pharmacy. The same exact symptoms that you had with Dasom, down to the sudden migraines. 

“It’s okay,” You take his hand, “I promise. It was scary for Dasom, but she’s three,” 

“Then why did you call Nari?” Yunho presses, “You should have called us, I could have come home early,” 

You’re hardly ever sick, and you forgot how fussy they get anytime you so much as sneeze. 

Your head throbs again and you sigh. You had wanted to make it special, to make it more romantic than this, but there’s no keeping it from them now. You shake your head, “I called Nari so she could watch Dasom while I rested, and so she could pick me up a pregnancy test on her way,”

Yunho’s face goes slack, “A what?” 

“I’ve been getting sick again,” You push yourself up in the bed to sit against the soft headboard, “everyday at lunchtime just like before. I didn’t think anything of it, of any of the signs because we haven’t been trying,” 

“You’re kidding,” Yunho leans away, glancing between you and Seonghwa, “you… why didn’t you tell us you were sick?” 

You open your mouth to explain, to find something to say, but Seonghwa finally speaks up. 

“You’re pregnant?” He stammers, “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sick everyday, dizzy, my headaches are back, I’ve been crying at fucking everything,” Your eyes sting at the thought, “I’m so late, I didn’t even realize it, we’ve been busy… but I’m so, so late,” 

“Oh my god,” Yunho’s face lights up, and he presses a hand over his mouth. 

“There’s a positive test in the trash,” You nod towards the bathroom, “I was going to go to the doctor tomorrow, confirm everything with a blood test and then tell you… so much better than this, but, yeah, yes, I’m pregnant,” 

“Jagi,” Seonghwa breathes, and you realize now his eyes are full of unshed tears. 

Yunho tugs you into his arms and you start with a squeak. His arms wrap around you, his face ducked into your neck, and he takes a watery breath, “I can’t believe it,” 

“I don’t know when it happened,” You lean your cheek on his chest, “but if my symptoms are lining up on the same timeline as Dasom, I’m at least twelve weeks,” 

“The lake trip,” Seonghwa says after a moment, and you flip back in your mental calendar to three, almost four months ago when Yunho’s parents had taken care of Dasom for a long weekend and the three of you slipped away for a much needed vacation together. 

Yunho nods into your neck, his hand coasting up and down your back. 

He’s not letting you go, and Seonghwa hasn’t said anything more, and your stomach flips. “This is good news, isn’t it? I mean, I know we haven’t talked about it recently, but it’s,” 

Yunho laughs sharply, pulling away and cupping your cheeks, “Of course it is,” His cheeks are wet, eyes sparkling, and he surges forwards to kiss you, his breath shaky on your lips. 

“Oh, thank god,” You mumble against his mouth. 

A light knock on the door catches your attention and you hear the door squeak open, “Hey, y/n,” 

Yunho pulls away, but he can’t quite pull his eyes away from you as you lean past him, “Yeah?” 

“Dasom’s getting a little ancy,” She murmurs, “how about I take her tonight? A little sleepover with her auntie to give you three some time?” 

You exhale and nod immediately, “You - Nari, that would be such a help,” 

“Did you,” She looks at you pointedly and gestures between the two men on either side of you. 

“Yeah,” You can’t stop the grin on your face. 

Yunho wipes away the tears threatening to spill over and pushes himself off the edge of the bed, “Let me help you get her things together, is she still crying?” 

“No,” Nari shakes her head, “she’s upset, but I got her to calm down for now,” 

“I’ll talk to her,” He squeezes your hand and takes a steadying breath, trying to calm down his sudden swell of emotion. 

“Don’t tell her yet,” You interject, “please,” 

“No,” He agrees, “not yet,” 

“Congratulations,” Nari says quietly, “all of you,” 

Yunho grins wide, nodding and Seonghwa murmurs a quiet thank you. You’ll have to do something nice for Nari, something special for taking care of Dasom today and giving you time with your husbands tonight. 

You had always talked about having more children, but the timing was never quite right. Dasom alone was a handful, plus the demands of all of your jobs growing stronger. It just became something you might do soon, but not now. Always not now. 

You watch Yunho take a deep breath before he follows Nari back downstairs to tend to your daughter, and then you’re alone again with Seonghwa. 

“Hey,” You murmur, shifting to meet his eyes. 

“Hi, darling,” He smiles warmly, eyes still shining. 

“How are you?” You gently prod his thigh. 

“I can barely believe it,” He admits, “but darling, you know me, I’ve always wanted another baby,” 

“You’re happy?” 

“So happy,” He reaches for you, shuffling closer on the bed until you’re pressed together, forehead to forehead, “I love you,” 

Tears bubble up again in your eyes and you nod against him, “I love you too, Hwa,” 

“I love our little life together,” He murmurs softly, “every second,” 

Your breath hitches a little, and you let your eyes slip closed, breathing together in time with him in the center of your bed. A light commotion downstairs breaks you both apart and you grin, “We should get up,” 

“You should be resting,” He shakes his head, “how’s your headache?” His fingertips smooth along your hairline as he looks you over. 

“Better than before, but still,” You sigh, “you remember what they were like,” 

“I do,” He gives you a soft, sympathetic smile, “which is why I’m saying go back to bed,” 

“I will when Dasom leaves,” You lean forward and kiss him gently, “but I don’t want her to be scared tonight, I should let her see me before she leaves,” 

There’s no argument there, so Seonghwa takes a deep breath and climbs out of the bed to offer you a hand, “I’ll go with you.” 

“Let me clean up second,” You blink hard when you get to your feet, the equilibrium of the room and the light from the hall a little jarring still, but you are feeling better than before, so you smooth your hair back and turn towards your vanity. You don’t bother to try and look completely normal, Dasom’s smart enough to see right through that, but you still run a brush through your hair and try to perk up just a bit to avoid looking dead on your feet. 

Seonghwa stands behind you, watching in the mirror with a smile on his face. 

“What?” You smile back at him, the joy in the room infectious now. 

“You’re a beautiful mother,” He says softly, “and I love you,” 

Pink tinges your cheeks at his words and your eyes flick down, “I love you too,” 

“My pretty wife,” He wraps his arms around you again, nuzzling your cheek and peppering soft kisses across your cheek. 

“Oh, stop,” You twist to kiss his soft lips, “come on, let’s go down,” 

“Mmhm,” He kisses you again before he lets you go and leads the way out of their bedroom and towards the stairs. 

As you enter into the light you wince a little, but it’s not so harsh that you can’t manage. 

He lays a hand on your lower back and moves to see your face, “Is it too much?” 

“Not yet,” You assure him, “I’ll be fine for a few minutes,” 

The voices downstairs start to shift, and you realize that Yunho is walking back towards the foyer at the bottom of the steps by the front door.

“People cry for happy things too, baby,” Yunho murmurs, and from the top of the stairs you watch him walking back and forth with Dasom in his arms, her tiny face pressed into his chest. 

She says something to him you can’t quite hear, muffled into his shirt. 

He smiles, rubbing her back, “I can’t tell you yet,” 

Her head pops up, and she rubs at her face with her little hand, “Why not?” 

“Mm,” Yunho narrows his eyes at her playfully, “because it’s a surprise,” 

Seonghwa wraps his arms around you from behind, listening with you. 

“I want a surprise,” She nods and Nari’s laugh echoes from the next room. 

“I know,” Yunho shrugs, keeping the energy light so she relaxes more, “but I promise when you come home from Nari’s we’ll have the surprise ready,” 

She sighs, and Seonghwa chuckles behind you. 

“Are you ready, baby?” Nari holds up Dasom’s coat and little backpack. 

“Can we watch Ariel?” Dasom perks up, scrambling to get out of Yunho’s arms.

“Mhm,” Nari drops down to her height to help her put the coat on, “but I don’t remember all the words to the songs, so you’ll have to teach me,” 

“I know all the words,” She says and you watch Yunho’s face light up. 

Seonghwa squeezes you, “I want to see her before she leaves,” 

“Me too,” You brush off your cheeks, and despite your headache you get yourself together enough to go downstairs, “do I look like I’ve been crying?” 

“Not too bad,” Seonghwa assures you, “me?” 

You shake your head, “Only a little,” 

“Yunho’s the crier anyways,” Seonghwa grins, and then starts down the steps. 

You follow him, and at the first creak of the stairs, Yunho looks up and Dasom whips right around, “Eomma!”

“Hey,” You smile, “I heard you’re having a sleepover,” 

Yunho’s watching you like a hawk, his body tense like you might faint again at any moment but you give him an easy smile and shake your head a little. Seonghwa’s hand presses into the center of your back, and the minute you hit the landing, your daughter collides with your legs. 

“Hey, hey,” You smooth back her hair, “what’s this?” 

“Are you sick?” She mumbles into your leggings. 

You share a quick smile with your husbands, and then reach down for her. When you hoist her up, both of them take a sudden step towards you, Seonghwa’s hands around Dasom’s waist to help lift her and take any weight off, but you settle her on your hip anyways. 

“I’m not sick,” You assure her, “you know how mommy gets headaches sometimes?” 

She nods. 

“Just a headache,” You smile, “I’m sorry I made you worry, baby,” 

“It’s okay,” Her words run together, and then she twists in your arms to find Yunho, “Appa has a surprise,” 

“Oh, he does, does he?” You smile, her attention back on you, and when you look up Yunho’s holding up his hands and mouthing an apology. 

“I want it now,” She kicks her little legs and you smile. 

“Mm,” You consider her words, and she watches your face carefully as you pretend to think, “I don’t know, my love, patience is important.” 

She frowns, and at the first quiver of her bottom lip you shake your head, she stills. 

“The surprise isn’t ready yet,” You tell her honestly, “but when you get home, it will be. So if you can be a big girl, and be very patient, your present will be here when you get home from your sleepover,” 

“But,” She starts, but Seonghwa is quick to intervene. 

“Dasom,” He says, voice soft but just a little more firm than before, “mommy’s not feeling very well, don’t argue, please.” 

Her mouth snaps shut, and she still looks sad, but she nods. Every day you feel her growing up in your arms and learning little by little and your heart clenches. A sudden image of her teaching your new baby flickers through your mind and you feel overwhelmingly tender, soft like you might cry. 

Seonghwa picks up on the change immediately, “Come here, nae sarang,” 

She’s out of your arms and held in his a moment later. Yunho’s wide palm smooths up and down your back and you take a steadying breath. 

“Can you put your jacket on for auntie, please?” Seonghwa asks, turning her away from you and nuzzling her with his nose, pressing a kiss to her soft cheek. 

“Yep,” She says as she drops to the floor and stretches her arms up and wide for Nari to slide her arms through the sleeves of the puffy coat. 

“God, she’s cute,” You murmur under your breath and Yunho chuckles at your side. 

“Let’s go, babe,” Nari zips her up and grabs her backpack from the floor. 

Yunho steps forward and snags it, “I’ll walk you down,” 

“Thanks,” Nari nods, patting Dasom’s back. 

Dasom says goodbye to you over her shoulder, focused on whatever Yunho’s saying to her, the stress of the day forgotten now that she’s seen you up and walking around. Yunho keeps her attention with ease and her little hand locks on Nari’s. You watch her go and despite your headache, your heart aches worse. 

“Alright,” Seonghwa murmurs as soon as they’re out of sight, “back to bed,” 

“Yes, please,” You admit, sighing and leaning against his chest. 

“I’ll come with you,” He kisses your hair. 

“It’s early,” 

“So, I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” He pushes you gently towards the stairs, “just relax and let me take care of you,” 

It’s easy to do, you’ve been letting him care for you for years. He takes you to bed and helps you slip into sleep. By the time Yunho gets back upstairs you’re out like a light and the two of them are left to marvel in the news by themselves. 

It’s hours and hours before your headache breaks and you wake to the warm feeling of your husbands bodies pressed close to you. Someone’s arm is wrapped around your middle, someone’s thigh pressed between yours, lips on your shoulder, a hand on your backside, feet tangled together under the comforter. Morning light bleeds into the room, pale yellow and warm, one of the first times you’ve woken up by your own internal clock in what feels like months. 

You’re pressed into Seonghwa’s chest, and you kiss his bare skin softly, eliciting a contented sigh from his lips. His hand slips down from its place on the small of your back and under the waistband of your sleep pants, coasting over your skin and squeezing you in all the right places. 

“Mm, Hwa,” You pull him closer. 

“How’s your head?” He asks softly, checking before he takes his hand any further. 

“Better,” You nod, your lips traveling up his throat, “come kiss me,” 

Yunho rolls closer behind you, groaning as he wakes, the familiar feeling of his morning hardness connecting with your thigh. “We haven’t slept in,” He sighs, “in so long,” 

“It’s seven-thirty,” You laugh against Seonghwa’s lips. 

“Exactly,” Yunho tugs you both closer, “our six am human alarm isn’t jumping on us,” 

“Oh, you miss her,” Seonghwa laughs, “I know you do,” 

“So much,” He smiles against your shoulder. 

“Well,” You murmur, pressing your hips back into Yunho’s to feel him just a little closer, “I think our sleep is about to get worse, not better in the next few months,” 

“True,” Seonghwa shifts down in the bed to kiss you properly, his fingers tangling with Yunho’s above your head. 

“Mm, but I think,” Yunho reaches around and smooths his hand over your stomach, and then stills completely. 

“What?” You mumble, shifting back from Seonghwa’s lips and looking over your shoulder to try and find your other husband’s eyes. 

“You’re already showing,” His hand moves across you again, this time from top to bottom of your belly to trace the soft swell, “how did we not notice?” 

“It’s not that much,” You shake your head, but Seonghwa is already sliding his hand out of your sleep pants to curl around your front and feel for himself. 

“Yes, it is,” Seonghwa grins, backing up to look down at you, “oh my god,” 

“Come here,” Yunho tugs you back onto your back gently and Seonghwa pushes the comforter down until it’s settled low around all of your hips. 

“Look,” Seonghwa slides your sleepshirt up until it’s tucked just under your breasts and he smooths a hand across your belly, “that’s a bump,” 

Shifting in the covers you look down at yourself, “You’re right,” you murmur softly, eyes still studying yourself. 

It’s still small, not the pronounced curve of a clearly pregnant person’s body, but they know you and every inch of your skin well, and to them it’s plain as day. Your body has been so different since Dasom, softer in so many ways and even to you this little change is easy to miss until you’re really looking. To anyone else the subtle swell would be nothing, but to you it’s everything. To them, it’s your words made real. 

“Look, look,” Yunho grins, sliding his hand down your side until he cups under your stomach,  his hand clearly folding into the slightest curve at the change in your body, “you really are pregnant,” 

“Yeah,” Your voice is small. 

Yunho moves low in the sheets suddenly, pressing his lips to your stomach and smiling, “Hi, baby,” 

You stroke his hair softly, “You’re so cute,” 

“We’ve missed months,” Yunho says without looking back up, stroking your skin again, “we started talking to Dasom when she was the size of a pea, we’ll have to catch up with this little one,” 

“God, I really do love you both,” You sigh. 

“Mhm,” Yunho kisses your stomach again, “and we love you, and this new bean,” 

You could cry, you really could. 

“Boy or girl?” Seonghwa murmurs, propping his head up on one hand. 

“Sister or brother, is the real question,” You offer, “Dasom would lose her little mind if it’s a girl,” 

“Should we find out early?” Yunho asks, pulling his attention away from your stomach and looking up at you both. 

With Dasom you did, you were all being too cautious and careful about the pregnancy since it had taken so long to get there that you had every health screening and pregnancy checkup known to man, so the mystery of your baby’s sex wasn’t easy to keep when you went through as many ultrasounds and doctors visits as you did. 

“Maybe,” Seonghwa says, “it might be nice to know early to help prepare Dasom, they always say it’s hard for kids to adjust from only child to older sibling. Maybe if she knows sister or brother she can start to think about it early,” 

You nod, chewing your lip and absent mindedly running your fingers through Yunho’s dark hair. 

“She could help us decorate,” Yunho offers, “it might help keep her involved so it’s an exciting thing, not a scary thing,” 

“It’s a good idea,” You agree, “but let me get a check-up first,” 

“Sure,” He says, “but it’s still nice to plan for, she’s going to be so excited,” 

“I hope so,” 

Seonghwa snuggles into your one side, kissing you warmly and wrapping an arm around your middle, “How are you feeling so far today?” 

“Normal, I think?” You smile. 

“Yeah?” Seonghwa brushes your hair back, “Nausea? Headache?” 

You shake your head softly and then take a moment to feel your body, taking stock of all the little things. You stretch against the mattress, arching your back a little to shift out of your sleeping position, and find yourself in a deep yawn. 

Yunho’s hand smooths over your stomach as you stretch long, his fingers spread wide and grin across his face, “I really can’t believe it, I thought we’d have to try again,” 

“Me too,” You admit, threading your fingers with his. 

“Last time was…” Yunho trails off, and he doesn’t have to say it, you all remember. 

“Let’s not think about it,” Seonghwa surprises you, reaching across to brush Yunho’s cheek, “let’s just be happy about this little one,” 

Yunho swallows and clears his throat, pushing away whatever momentary emotion had flooded up inside him. It was hard for all of you, and when Dasom finally came all of those hard, bad things were easy to forget, at least for a little while. 

“There’s a lot to be happy for,” You smile, pushing past those memories and focusing on the present, “for one… we’re alone,” 

“That is a very good point,” Seonghwa kisses your head. 

“Alone for a while,” You add, “hours, even,” 

“Oh, you are feeling better,” Yunho laughs, dropping a kiss to your belly and sighing warmly against your skin. 

“We’ve been so busy,” You relax between them, letting your shirt ride up a little, “don’t you miss me?” 

“Don’t even joke,” Seonghwa huffs, picking up on your queues with ease and slipping the shirt up and off your head. 

Yunho pulls the tie of your sleep pants open with one firm tug and slides them off in a hurry. 

They crowd you on either side, lips dropping on your skin and hands smoothing over you until Seonghwa stills, cupping the beginnings of your bump and Yunho falls still beside him. 

“What?” You reach for Seonghwa, trying to tug him back down to your mouth. 

“Nothing,” He shakes his head, “I just keep remembering that you're pregnant again.” He smooths his hand down further, looking for your thigh. 

“Mm,” You stretch, letting Seonghwa shift your leg open wide, “does this mean you’re both going to start fussing over me again?” 

“Who’s fussing?” Yunho smirks, easing down the bed and pressing kisses across your belly until he’s settled between your open thighs. 

“You,” You smile, “treating me like glass,” 

“To be fair,” Seonghwa’s lips travel across your shoulder, teeth nipping at your collarbones, “we were all nervous last time,” 

“And now?” You sigh. 

“I think we know how to take care of you,” Seonghwa chuckles. 

Yunho’s hands coast up and down your thighs, “And there’s nothing wrong with being gentle,” 

You start to smile, but your breath catches in your throat as he runs the back of his knuckle down your slit, the fabric of your panties tickling your sensitive nub. 

“Taking it slow,” Seonghwa offers, his mouth dancing closer to your nipple but conveniently never touching. 

“I like slow,” You breathe, letting your eyes fall closed. 

“Mm,” Seonghwa shakes his head, “no,” 

Yunho chuckles. 

“You like hard,” Seonghwa nips at your breast with his teeth, “and fast,” 

Your breath thins as you feel your body start to respond. 

“And rough,” Seonghwa adds, the pad of his thumb pressing down over your nipple, “and sometimes mean,” 

“Fuck,” You hiss as he flicks your nipple hard before pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Slow,” Seonghwa adds, “just makes you whine and beg for hard and fast,” 

“So?” Your hand on his back tightens. 

“Sometimes we want just want to take our time darling,” Seonghwa’s tongue finally, finally flicks across your other nipple, “especially when we know how sensitive you must be,” 

Yunho presses a kiss to your clit through your panties, sighing through the fabric, “Are you sore, sweetheart? Aching?” 

“Does this hurt?” Seonghwa cups your breast, kneading it with a little more pressure than before and you gasp. 

“N-no,” You breathe. 

“Do you want it to?” Seonghwa squeezes you again. 

Your hips buck softly, pressing your cunt harder against Yunho’s face and he smiles, flicking the firm muscle of his tongue over your clit, dragging the cotton fabric across it enough that you rock your hips again. 

“This is too slow,” You let your head fall back against the bed, “and you know it,” 

Seonghwa lifts his head, kissing your lips before brushing his fingers along your jaw, “Just for now,” he murmurs. 

“Okay,” You crane your neck up to kiss him back, “but you remember what things were like with Dasom, you won’t hurt us,” 

Seonghwa smiles, and Yunho lifts his mouth away to slip his fingers under the edges of your panties and drag them down your thighs. “Us,” Yunho repeats, his voice content and soft. 

“I have an idea,” Seonghwa sighs, “how about you lie back and trust me, jagi,” 

“You know I do,” You didn’t mean to upset him, and of course there’s nothing wrong with him taking his time, but you’ve been gifted with time alone and you really, really want to use it. 

“Just hush,” He shakes his head, “close your eyes.” 

You snap them closed immediately, “Yes, sir,” 

“Mm,” Seonghwa makes a soft, negative noise as he shifts off the bed, “not today, okay? Just be with us,” 

You nod, feeling Yunho’s hands slide up over your hips to warmly ground you. 

The sound of a drawer opening perks you up though and you lift your head to try and hear better. 

“Baby,” Seonghwa says to Yunho, “how’s this?” 

“Perfect,” Yunho agrees, and you feel him shift on the mattress, his hands leaving your hips, “and get me the - yes, those,” 

“What are you two doing?” You finally ask, desperately eager and wanting to open your eyes. 

“My darling,” Seonghwa says, “we’re going to show you how much we love you,” 

“For as long as you can take,” Yunho adds, “as fast or slow as we want.”

Your body melts into the mattress, you know that tone of voice. You love that tone of voice. 

“Tell us if something doesn’t feel good,” Seonghwa’s voice is back at your side.

“I will,” You promise, and you can’t help the smile on your face. 

“Alright beautiful,” Seonghwa kneels by your side, “lift up, eyes stay closed.”

Yunho’s hand on your hip clarifies your other husband's words and you press up to lift your hips high. They’re prepping something, communicating silently with each other, and it leaves you wanting. You’re a second away from pleading with them to tell you their plans. 

“There we go,” Yunho says, “you can relax,” 

When you ease back down the sensation under you is different, a soft towel underneath your hips and you’re about to open your mouth and try to guess their plan, but your husbands push your thighs open wide and something warm and wet and slippery drips over your bare mound. 

You sigh out a soft moan as the warming oil slides down between your thighs, and then you feel it again. Warm oil spreads again, this time across your belly and breasts and you suddenly realize what they mean to do to you. It’s not often that you have the time for this kind of foreplay anymore, let alone the patience for it. Seonghwa isn’t necessarily wrong either, you love them when they’re bossy and firm and taunting, so room for this kind of slow worship is narrow. Except something about Yunho’s thumb gliding the oil down over your cunt is making you dizzy, so you let them give you what they want. 

“You’re beautiful,” Seonghwa murmurs into your ear as he smooths the oil up your chest and spreads it across your skin, “always, jagiya, but something about this,” 

“Mhm,” Yunho hums, his fingers slowly massaging your skin, close to your slit but never parting your folds, “so perfect,” 

“Please touch me,” Your voice is breathy, “please,” 

“We are touching you,” Yunho says and you can hear the teasing smile in his voice. 

“You know what I think?” Seonghwa sighs, sliding his hand over your breast again and massaging. 

“Tell me,” You arch into his touch, opening your legs wider for Yunho. 

“I think,” He squeezes your nipple a little harder than before, “we clearly haven’t been taking care of our darling properly if we didn’t even notice this.” He massages the oil down your chest over the soft, small swell of your stomach. 

You twitch beneath him, breath quickening. 

“We need to make it up to you, my love,” Yunho’s voice is low, husky as he stays focused on his task. Every warm rub of his fingers anywhere near your dripping slit has your hips jerking. 

“Oh, god,” You sigh. 

“Mm,” Seonghwa massages your chest again, “I think these are fuller, we missed that too, love,” 

“Oh,” You moan sharply as he pinches your nipples again. 

“You’re being so patient, sweetheart,” Yunho murmurs, the tips of his two fingers dipping inside you for just a moment. 

“G-God, do that again,” You press your body forward, begging for just a little more. 

“Yunho,” Seonghwa says, his voice firm, “hands off,”

Suddenly no one’s touching you, and you’re a breath away from screaming. Your body’s pulsating with need, not just the extended, slow foreplay bringing you up but the sheer amount of hormones coursing through your body that make you want to come so hard you hear colors. 

Still, you know better than to open your eyes. 

Seonghwa descends over you with ease, his mouth hot at your ear, and his words have you arching in the sheets. With a nip at your soft earlobe he says low, “Can we play with you, baby?” 

All you can manage is a stammering yes. 

“Let us play with your pretty body, baby,” He kisses your throat and a warm hand fully cups your sex. 

“A-anything, anything,” You’re almost embarrassed by how much of a puddle you already are, but it was exactly the same last time you were pregnant and you’re sure they’re loving every second. 

“Good, good girl,” Seonghwa murmurs, his voice tender, “I love you so much,” 

Blush floods your cheeks and you feel warm pinpricks behind your eyes, “I love you too, Hwa,” 

He kisses your cheek, your jaw, your throat, and then pulls back slightly before you feel the bed move, “Would you like clamps, or are you too sensitive?” 

Your eyes fly open and you immediately see Seonghwa above you, in his hand a familiar silver chain. You nod immediately, “Yes please,” 

“Are you sure?” He smiles, a little teasing as he palms one of your breasts and starts to lovingly tweak your nipple into a hardened peak. 

Warm pleasure sparks through you at his ministrations and you whimper, “Yes,”

He preps you easily, making sure you’re ready to take the clamps and your skin there is dry enough that they won’t slide off. Your eyes flick to Yunho who watches with rapt attention, his lips parting as Seonghwa secures one nipple clamp and then the other. 

“How’s that?” Seonghwa checks as he sets the second one. 

You’ve been sensitive lately, he’s certainly not wrong about that. Your breasts aching with the changes of your body, and you’ve been hyper aware of anything brushing along your nipples at all, let alone the sensation of a clamp, and if you're being honest it hurts. You hiss sharply as he releases the pressure of his hand and lets the clamp close, and he doesn’t rush to remove it but his eyes flick to yours. 

The initial pain fades to a kind of numbing warmth and you exhale slow and steady, “I’m okay, it feels good,” 

“And this?” He draws the chain tighter in his hand, just enough that the clamp pulls at your nipple. 

A shock of pleasure runs through your breast down your back, “Oh fuck, Hwa,” 

“Good,” He smiles, dropping the chain on your chest, “sit up a minute, would you?” 

“Sure,” You push yourself up and Yunho takes your hand to draw you up into a seated position on the towels. Seonghwa spreads another towel down behind you before shucking off his boxers and sliding behind you. As he situates, you realize what’s on the bed next to you. Next to the bottle of warming oil are two vibrators and a dildo. Yunho smiles as he sees your expression. 

“Come here,” Seonghwa says from behind you as he scoots closer, one leg on either side of you now, “lay back,” 

Yunho eases you back down onto your husband’s bare chest, “Comfortable?” 

“Mhm,” You assure him, “but I know you’re planning something, I know that look,” 

Yunho laughs and shakes his head, “If spending the morning making my wife come is planning something, then sure,” 

Your muscles clench around nothing at his words and you can’t help but wet your lips. 

“Now,” Yunho smiles, “just relax for us,” 

You nod, and Seonghwa pushes your hair back as you lay on his chest. His hands settle on your slick skin, massaging the oil into every part of you that he can touch, his hands never quite coming back to touch the clamps or their chain. With a sigh, you let your muscles relax fully and your legs fall open and slack against Seonghwa’s thighs. 

Yunho pushes off his knees and settles down next to you, sitting almost hip to hip with you, before uncapping the bottle of oil and pouring a little more out in his hand. 

You exhale low and slow, “Should I close my eyes?” 

Yunho glances back at you, “Do you want to?” 

“Do you want me to?” You clarify. 

He shakes his head, “We want what you want,” 

You swallow hard, your body lighting up at just the sight of his hands glistening and ready to please you, “I want to watch,” 

“Good girl,” Seonghwa chuckles, nipping at your ear and pressing kisses anywhere he can. 

“Now, please,” You sigh, widening your legs a little more, “Yunho, please,” 

“Shush,” He shakes his head, and you’re about to protest, but then he’s touching you and your mind is singing. 

Yunho slides his hand down and parts your slick folds with ease, his middle finger teasing your entrance repeatedly until he sinks it inside. You moan, tilting your hips up a little more. 

Seonghwa hums behind you as he watches, his cock stiff and aching behind you, but it hardly matters because right now their attention is laser focused on you and you alone. One of his hands travels up to cup your breast and slowly he starts kneading your soft flesh. 

“You’re so wet,” Yunho murmurs, almost to himself as he starts to rock his hand in a slow massaging rhythm, dragging his fingers down and back up your swelling clit before dipping inside you each and every time, “and tighter,” 

The feeling of his hand is already too much, applying perfect pressure and speed to knot your body up with need but never push you anywhere close to the edge of anything. He’s taking his sweet time, savoring you and your body, and you’d be embarrassed by the intensity and intimacy if it were anyone in the world but them. 

Seonghwa’s plush lips start to work over your throat, sucking at your pulse points and placing tender bites along the column of your neck. Your breath is thinner, thready and you can’t help the little whimper that bubbles out of you. 

Your eyes almost flutter shut, but Yunho’s other hand dips under your raised thigh and he glances back at you with warm eyes. 

“W-what,” You start to ask what that face is for, what he means to do, why he won’t speed up, but then his fingers press down on the tight ring of muscle between your cheeks and your voice cuts off in a tight moan. 

“Does it feel that good, baby?” Yunho presses his fingers inside, pumping them slow and deep. 

“Yun,” You moan, “more,” 

For the first time all morning, he listens. 

Yunho slides one hand to your clit, setting a firm pace of massaging circles while his other steadily pumps two fingers in and out of your ass, curled in just the right way to apply pressure where you need it while the slick pad of his middle finger stimulates your aching bud. 

“Oh, baby,” Seonghwa smiles against your throat, “is he making you feel good?” 

You nod, your face crinkling up as the edge of your orgasm starts to curl up and over you. 

“Tell us how good,” Seonghwa directs, and his hand slides down your sternum and takes the chain. 

“I’m,” Your breath catches and you roll your hips, “it feels so, so good,” 

“Good enough to come?” Seonghwa pulls the chain and you arch with it, the pull of the clamps against your prone nipples combined with the steady pulse of hands inside you making you keen. 

“Yes, fuck,” You choke. 

Yunho chuckles and his hand speeds up. 

“God, oh god,” You pant. 

Seonghwa massages your body with his free hand, deft fingers pressing in all the right ways over the soft, plush curves of your sides, your stomach, your thighs. His opposite hand pulls the chain with the slightest bit more force. 

You cry out, voice dying in your throat and your eyes clamp shut, body arching up in their hands. 

“Color, darling,” Seonghwa asks quickly, “you alright?” 

“Green,” You shake your head, “don’t you dare fucking stop,” 

“Come,” Yunho commands, doubling his efforts on your clit, “I know you need it,” 

“F-fuck,” Your body flushes with heat, slick wetness everywhere, and you can’t really get purchase on anything, but you try, your oiled hands gripping Yunho’s back and Seonghwa’s thigh. 

“Come on,” He bids again, “let go,” 

Seonghwa tugs the clamps again and your vision whites, your legs snapping shut and body curling as you crack open, nothing but a stuttering mess of moans and shivering limbs. 

“No,” Yunho wrenches your legs back open, “I’m not done with you,” 

Your mind doesn’t make sense of it until you feel the silicone nub of the suction vibrator. He works quickly, locating your clit with ease and closing the mouth of the toy over it before clicking it on. The sensation is immediate and it takes both of them holding your legs open wide to keep you from closing down on yourself and riding out the sensation. 

“Good, baby, yes,” Seonghwa’s fingers are tight on your skin, “what a fucking mess you are,” 

It takes all but thirty seconds of the sucking toy and Yunho’s fingers working your ass open for the familiar tight bubble to build again, only this time the pressure is all encompassing and you only have a second of conscious thought before the sound that leaves your lips is desperate and feral. 

“I’m gonna fucking come,” You scramble in Seonghwa’s arms and he tugs the clamps again, “I’m- I’m gonna,” 

Yunho rocks the toy, circling with the suction, and you swear you lose time. 

You come so impossibly hard you think you just might bring back your migraine, but it would be worth it for this. Clear fluid pulses out of you as you release and Yunho’s saying something encouraging as he coaxes you to come more with his fingers moving fast across your slick folds, but you can’t hear him. 

When your body starts to pull away from him and your moans turn to little overstimulated sobs, he pulls back and clicks off the toy, and drops low to press hungry kisses across your skin. He sighs against your inner thighs, nips at your soft belly, and can’t help himself when he takes a long, slow lap of your cunt. 

“I need you right now,” He confesses, “H-Hwa move,” 

“Slow down,” Seonghwa tries to bring him back down to earth, “take a breath,” 

Yunho’s hands tighten on your thighs. 

“Seonghwa,” You shake your head, “please,”

“Alright,” He murmurs, dropping the chain, “I got you.” 

He slides out from behind you, and then Yunho’s above you, wasting no time at all. He finds your entrance with ease, rocking his hips slowly until his cockhead catches inside you, and then with a slow press forward of his hips he fully seats himself inside. 

The stretch is delicious, dizzying and deep, and you moan, biting down on his shoulder. 

“Am-am I hurting you?” He asks, breathless. 

You shake your head, “No, you feel so perfect,” 

He drops his head against yours and sighs into your hair, “God, you’re so tight, I can’t,” 

Your muscles clench around him, pulsing wet and warm around his cock and he chokes, his hips dropping lower. 

“Jesus, fuck,” He breathes low through his nose, “I’m trying really hard not to fuck the life out of you,” 

“Mm,” You rock yourself up against his pelvis, “why don’t you,” 

“Because,” He shifts back enough that he can see your face, “I said slow,” 

He draws his hips back, dragging his hot length almost all the way out of your channel, before pushing in again just as torturously slowly. You moan, hard and arch in his hands, “Again, please, again,” 

He does, just as slowly. He repeats himself, and then his eyes flick over your body, softening at the sight of you below him. Yunho sighs, dropping over you so that your bodies are flush together, still careful to keep the bulk of his weight off you. His mouth closes on yours, tongue dipping into your mouth, sharing one single warm breath between you as he starts to roll his hips. You taste yourself on his skin, the sharpness heady and hot between you. 

You moan against his mouth, your skin slick with sweat and oil. He cups your cheek, drags his hand down your side, slipping a little and his head bumps softly against yours. You grin against his mouth and he laughs and suddenly you realize, this is your life. Held beautifully between these two men who love you like no one else has ever loved you, their child inside you, not a single second of it a dream. 

Your breath hitches softly and you can’t stop staring up at him grinning. 

“What?” He asks softly, studying your face. 

You kiss him soft, “I love you,” 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He breathes, “so much, I can’t… I don’t even know how to say how much,” 

“Show me then,” You cup his cheek, drawing him closer, “please,” 

He slides his hands up the back of your arms, drawing them above you, “Hwa,” 

Seonghwa catches your wrists with ease, holding them to the mattress as he moves closer to watch you both and have his hands on you. Yunho turns his head and kisses his shoulder, the closest part of Seonghwa’s skin he can reach, before snaking his way down your chest. 

“Use me,” He cups your hip, drawing you tight to his body, “I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“You won’t,” You assure him, threading your fingers into his hair. 

He shakes his head, “Use me anyways,” he says, bearing down his hips so that your clit is pressed up hard against his pubic bone, “please,” 

You draw him close, finding purchase with your heels on the mattress, and slowly you start to rock, grinding your body up into his. You sigh, the pleasant feeling of it spreading through you already, and he smiles against your chest. 

Yunho’s kisses grow hotter, little bites across as your skin and his hot breath across your nipples, but you moan when his teeth close over the chain and he draws back his head, pulling it taught. 

“Oh,” You shake, your hips stuttering to a stop, “oh, god,” 

Yunho nods, tapping your hip with his hand and begging you to start moving again. He holds your gaze as he pulls back, and suddenly you’re straining against the lead, the clamps pulling you perfectly and striking a hot stroke of need through your entire body. 

“Don’t stop,” Seonghwa offers, filling in where his husband can’t given his full mouth. 

“I can’t,” You whine, almost too tired and raw to work yourself against him like he wants. 

“Give her more,” Seonghwa instructs, and with just the slightest adjustment of Yunho’s head, the clamps pull harder. 

You’re crumbling. Desperate need strikes in your belly and you roll up into him, your muscles are aching but if you just keep going, just a little more, you’ll give him what he wants and what you know your body needs. 

His hips drop a fraction more and he hisses through his teeth, your cunt pulsing and aching as you build up, close to the edge and ready to tip over it. 

“Please,” You babble, even though you don’t know what you’re begging for. 

Yunho groans as you shift, his cock inside you bumping again and again into a velvet spot. 

“Beautiful,” Seonghwa sighs, his hands squeezing your wrists, “look at how well you take Yunho’s cock, hmm?” 

Your eyes roll, thighs starting to shake.

“Is he deep in your pretty cunt, sweet girl?” He drops his lips to your ear, pushing you closer and closer, “Do you love it?” 

“Y-yes,” You work yourself against him harder, the rolling pressure of his firm body against your sensitive clit bringing you closer and closer to release. 

“You do love our cocks, don’t you?” Seonghwa smiles, reaching between you and taking the chain from between Yunho’s teeth. 

“God, yes,” Your legs wrap around Yunho’s hips and hold him steady as you jut against him. 

“Are you close?” Yunho asks, voice broken and tight. 

“L-let me go,” Your wrists jerk against Seonghwa’s hands and he releases you immediately. Your hands fly forwards, bracing on Yunho’s shoulder and side, nails digging in as you hold onto him, “please, Yunho, move, please,” 

He sighs heavily, his hips jerking against yours and finally, finally he can’t resist it. 

You can feel how much control he’s using, trying his best to not thrust too hard or hold you too tightly, but it doesn’t matter. The rhythmic drag of his cock over your g-spot over and over sends you up, and when Seonghwa pulls down on the chain between your bodies, it all crashes into you again. 

Yunho groans at the feeling of your release, pulling back and out of you suddenly and Seonghwa switches focus. The chain drops on your chest as he moves and when your eyes open, you nearly come again just from the sight. 

Yunho still has one hand braced on your hip, but leans against Seonghwa, their lips crashed together. Seonghwa’s hand works fast over Yunho’s slick cock, and with a shuddering groan Yunho comes hard, his nails digging into your skin as he paints your body with ropes of hot, white cum. 

“Oh my god,” You breathe, your body still trembling. 

Yunho’s chest is heaving, bright pink with blush and shining with sweat, and Seonghwa brushes his fingers through his hair, pressing kisses across his face as he releases Yunho’s now softening cock. It takes him a moment to recover, but when he does, Yunho’s eyes find yours immediately, “Okay?” 

You nod, emotion flooding you as your mind finally starts to reconnect after the haze of orgasm after orgasm. Now your body is aching. You wince a little at the taut clamps, reaching for them to remove them yourself but Yunho moves more quickly. 

“I got it,” He soothes you, “Does it hurt?” 

“Not too much,” You ease him, sighing pleasantly as he unclips them. 

“Here, love,” Seonghwa uses a towel to clean you off, and it’s no replacement for a shower but it’ll let you relax here for a little bit longer until you can trust your legs. 

Yunho drops the clamps onto the side table along with the other toys, any of the ones unused forgotten in a minute. He hadn’t meant to fuck you, that wasn’t in the plan necessarily, but logic and reason left his brain the minute he saw you falling apart on his fingers. 

You’re blushing hard and recovering, limbs still a little shaky, when Seonghwa clears away the towels and pulls the sheet up over your body. He tosses the towels in the hamper and clears away the clothes off the floor, and he’s heading for the shower when your brain starts firing on all cylinders. 

“Seonghwa,” You call into the bathroom, listening as he starts the water. 

“Hmm?” He calls. 

You trade a quick smile with Yunho who’s still collapsed at your side before you call back, “Baby, I’m not done with you,” 

The look on his face when slips back into the bedroom is priceless, one brow raised and his shaggy black hair a mess of slight curls, “You need more?” 

“No,” You sigh, stretching and rolling onto your side, “you do,” 

His eyes flick over you, “You really don’t have to,” 

Yunho huffs behind you, “Just come back to bed,” 

“I know I don’t have to,” You sigh, pushing yourself up to a kneeling position on the bed, “but I want to,” 

Since getting up, Seonghwa had thrown a towel around his hips but you can still see the hard line of his cock beneath it, pushing against the thick fabric and begging to be touched. You wonder if he was going to try to quickly take care of things in the shower, try not to bother you with his needs, and that thought makes you want him even more. 

“Hwa,” You repeat, “come over here,” 

The corner of his mouth tips up in a smile and he makes his way back to the edge of the bed, “Yeah?” 

Your hands slide over his chest and find the top knotted corner of the towel, “Yeah,” you breathe, pulling the towel apart and letting it drop to the floor, “Yunho, can you help?” 

“What do you need, baby?” Yunho shuffles across the bed to be at your side. 

“Do you think Seonghwa would like my mouth? Or yours?” You ask, feigning innocence. 

“Yours,” Seonghwa interrupts, cupping your cheek, not waiting for flirty banter. 

Yunho laughs softly and nods, “There’s your answer,” 

“Sorry,” Seonghwa sighs, “I didn’t mean to answer that fast,” 

Yunho shakes his head, “I’d pick her too,” he stands, “but maybe I can still help, hmm?”

You feel Seonghwa’s fingers twitch along your jaw as he waits for what’s next, and you take the moment to reposition. You slide down onto your front, propped up on a pillow and using your leg for leverage, and then when you look back up you’re perfectly eye to eye with his pink, aching cock. 

A hand closes around it and Seonghwa moans, and your eyes flick up to see Yunho pressed flush behind Seonghwa and reaching around him. The smile on Yunho’s face is wolfish and hungry, his lips at his husband’s ear, “Do you like when I touch you?” 

Seonghwa sighs heavily and melts back into him, “Yes,” 

“Do you like when our baby touches you too?” Yunho pumps his hand and meets your eyes, nodding for you to get involved. 

You let saliva gather in your mouth, and slowly rake your nails down Seonghwa’s bare thigh, then back up to dance close to the base of his cock, down again so your fingers can slide over his balls. 

“y/n,” He chokes, “Jesus,” 

“Shh,” You murmur, and with your hands braced on his hips, you let the gathered saliva drip from your tongue over his cockhead. 

His cock jumps at the sensation, and Yunho’s hand sweeps up to take your saliva and work it down Seonghwa’s shaft as lubricant. You spit again, and once again Yunho catches it and pumps his hand up and down. 

“Baby,” You say softly, almost lazily, pressing a featherlight kiss to his velvet tip, “can I have a taste?” 

He fights the urge to jerk his hips and he nods. 

You lean forward, and Yunho slides his hand away so you can work your mouth deeply over him. Seonghwa might want to take it slow with you, but you don’t want to take it slow with him. You know they’re just being careful with you, considerate and lovely given the baby, but there’s nothing you want less than to take it slow right now. 

You surge forward, taking him down your throat in one move, your tongue dragging along the underside of his shaft until you’re pressed against his pubic bone and steadying your breathing. 

Seonghwa’s cock jumps in your mouth and he curses, hand tight in your hair now. 

“Oh, she’s hungry,” Yunho teases, “look at her,” 

“I’m looking,” Seonghwa’s voice is breathy, “God, darling, warn me next time,” 

You make a negative noise, and he groans at the vibration. You don’t warn him, when you draw back and sink forward again and then set a pace, your wet lips tight on his cock, tongue flicking at his length, hollowing out your cheeks to draw that suction you know makes him crumble. 

“Fuck,” His hand locks onto your scalp and you moan around him. 

“Does that feel good?” Yunho’s voice is husky above you, “I can give you more,” 

You suck hard and Seonghwa groans and you know whatever combination of your mouth on his cock and Yunho’s hands doing something has Seonghwa ready to melt. 

“Mess,” Yunho groans, “you and your pretty fucking mouth,” 

Seonghwa shudders. 

You pull back, taking a heaving breath and clearing your throat before you find your voice, “Fuck my face,” 

Seonghwa moans and you look up to see the way that Yunho’s teeth are attached to his husband’s throat, fingers expertly tweaking at his nipples and helping make the man a shaky mess. At you words, Yunho lifts up and moves right back to Seonghwa’s ear, “Don’t make her wait,” 

There’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, and you’re about to tell him that being pregnant does not in fact make you a virginal saint and he can and should come down your throat, but he reaches the same conclusion a second later and tugs you forward by the hand in your hair. 

“I didn’t say stop,” He says gruffly, pushing your head back towards him. 

You open your mouth wide and accept him with a deeply genuine sigh. 

“Your mouth,” Seonghwa thrusts forwards, knocking his hips against your lips and forcing your throat open, “is almost better than your pretty pussy,” 

You whine, breathing slow through your nose and opening up the back of your throat more for him. 

“Almost as tight,” His hips find a rhythm, “almost as warm,” 

“Almost as wet,” You feel another hand in your hair, Yunho brushing the hair from your eyes. 

“But I only get to hear you like this when I’m down your throat,” Seonghwa pants, bucking his hips as he holds you perfectly still to accept him, “I’m in love with this sound,” 

You choke a whine, trying again to regain your breath, and you’re dizzy but he’s so, so close. 

Yunho’s hand finds yours and he gives you a squeeze, an offered lifeline if it gets to be too much, but you don’t need it. You brush your thumb along his knuckles to let him know you’re more than fine, despite the heady, wet noises in the room. 

“Oh, fuck,” Seonghwa curses as his pace stammers a moment, and you double down with the suction, “fuck, darling,” 

“Fill her pretty mouth,” Yunho urges him, “come,” 

It takes two more thrusts before he groans, locking your head to his pelvis and spilling himself deeply down the back of your throat, so far you barely taste him. 

You give him a moment, but when you’re sure he’s done and just holding you in the afterglow you squeeze Yunho’s hand. 

“Come here,” Yunho must indicate something to Seonghwa, because he pulls out of your mouth slowly and takes a step back. Yunho drops into your eyeline and finds your gaze, “okay?” 

You swallow hard, clearing your throat and nodding, “Mhm,” 

“That was,” Seonghwa trails off, no words really enough to justify the orgasm he just had but he leans against the side table and exhales heavily. 

“Really hot?” You offer. 

He chuckles, “Yeah,” 

As you steady you see immediately that Yunho is rock hard again and you smile, “Are we ever going to get out of this bed?” 

“I have a better idea,” Yunho grins, and he moves forwards and wraps his arms around you. 

“What-” You start to ask, but then he’s hauling you up over his shoulder and you’re falling apart into hysterical laughter, “Where are we going? Put me down!”

“Nope,” He says, “I’ve got more plans for you,” 

Seonghwa follows you both, and then you realize the shower was never turned off. The bathroom is full of hot steam, enveloping all of you the minute Seonghwa shuts the door. 

“We’re multitasking,” Yunho slides you off his shoulder to the floor, kissing your cheek as he does and reaching in to check the temperature. 

Seonghwa wraps his arms around you, hand closing over your belly as he nuzzles your head, “Good, because I have plans too,” 

They have you again in the shower, Seonghwa on his knees between your thighs, and then once more braced against the glass doors. It’s insatiable, your need for each other, even after all these years. You’ve shared everything with them, every inch of your body and desires. Not a single moment of it worth trading away. 

It takes time to come out of your hazy morning, every time you think of pulling away something brings you back. Their lips, hands, tongues, cocks. Every part and piece of them. 

But eventually, after what feels like hours, you’re clean and dry and changing the sheets. 

You only have a little more time before Dasom comes home and your life changes once again forever, so you slip back into bed with them for just a little while longer. 

Seonghwa strokes your stomach slowly, lips on your cheek as he does and kissing the corner of your mouth, “I think it’s a girl,” 

“Yeah?” You murmur, Yunho curling closer behind your back so that you’re all tighter together. 

“Mhm,” Seonghwa smiles, “I have a feeling.” 

“You thought Dasom was a boy,” You point out softly. 

“No,” He shakes his head, “I know it this time,” 

“Do you want another girl?” You murmur. 

“I think so,” He confesses, “it just feels right,” 

“You know,” Yunho kisses your shoulder softly, “I think you’re right, I think it’s a girl,” 

“I don’t want you to be disappointed if it’s a boy,” You find his hand between you, threading your fingers together. 

“Nothing about our baby could disappoint me,” His brows knit together as he shakes his head, “girl, boy, Yunho’s… mine, it… none of it matters, it’s just a feeling,” 

“You really mean that,” You smile softly. 

“I really do,” He nods, “no matter what, they’ll be so loved,” 

Yunho’s breath catches in your ear, and you can’t quite see his face but he reaches past you and cups Seonghwa’s face, his thumb stroking along his husband’s cheek, “Oh, yeobo,” he sighs, “of course they will.” 

You duck into Seonghwa’s chest, pressing a kiss to his skin, “You have so much love to give, Hwa,”

His warm hand on your belly is a comforting weight, grounding and sure and he nods against your hair. 

“Dasom will be home soon,” Yunho murmurs, and you can hear his voice is tight and shaky, “we probably shouldn’t be crying messes when she gets here,” 

“I’m not crying,” You grin against Seonghwa’s chest. 

“Me either,” 

“Right,” Yunho takes a deep breath, “fine, I can’t be crying when she gets home then.” 

“Aw,” You twist in his arms to face him, cupping his cheek, “baby,” 

“Don’t,” He scrubs at his eyes, “you know I cry at everything,” 

Seonghwa laughs, snuggling closer, “We know,” 

“I’m just,” He sighs, “fuck, I’m really happy,” 

“Me too,” You kiss him softly. 

Seonghwa nods, “Me too,” 

“Sometimes I think about the night we met,” Yunho smiles, pushing your hair behind your ear and glancing over your shoulder at Seonghwa who makes a soft humming noise of recognition. 

“Yeah?” You cup his cheek. 

“We almost left you there,” Yunho confesses, “did I ever tell you that?” 

“No,” You study his eyes. 

“We were watching you for a little while,” He strokes your neck softly, “and I said we shouldn’t bother you. You looked ready for a date, I was sure whoever the guy was was just running late. You looked… beautiful, I thought there was no way someone would let you just sit there all night.” 

“You’ve never told me that,” You shake your head, “are you serious?” 

“Mhm,” He nods, and then his eyes travel up to Seonghwa, “but then he said, ‘What’s the worst that happens? We buy a pretty girl a drink and go home?’” 

The idea that they would have left, there at the end of the bar one second and gone the next. Interesting strangers and a passing thought in your whole life. 

“So you changed your mind?” You manage. 

“It would have been the worst mistake of my life,” Yunho says. 

“Our lives,” Seonghwa corrects. 

“Mine too,” You tug them closer, wrapping them tight around you, “and I wouldn’t have even known it,” 

Your phone buzzes on the side table and you smile, it’s probably close to that time. Dasom would be ancy to come home and at the end of Nari’s good graces. You shift to get up, but they tug you right back down. 

“Five more minutes,” Yunho shakes his head. 

“But,” You start to say. 

“Just five,” He repeats. 

For a little longer, it’s just the three of you. Tucked between them, you imagine the life you might have had without them. You would have found someone, you might have had children with them. You might have bought a house or moved out of Seoul. You would probably be happy, in that other life in that other place, you might be happy it’s not impossible. But it wouldn’t be this. Full, complete, whole. You might in some other life be a wife, but not their wife. You might in some other life have a child, but not Dasom. Not this new life. You can’t conceive of it. You’re sure you would have figured it out, but you can’t really imagine how without them. 

Your phone rings again on the nightstand, and slowly you unfold yourself from their arms to pick it up. Yunho slips his hand under the hem of your shirt while you talk to Nari, Seonghwa presses warm kisses across your neck. Not long now. 

The day stretches into itself until the afternoon sun warms your sheets and your skin. The door downstairs opens and you hear your daughter's fast footfalls on the stairs. Your stomach turns with nervous butterflies, but your husbands hold you close and the wing beats calm to a subtle flutter. You think maybe they’re not butterflies, maybe they’re something more. In an excited rush Dasom pushes through the door and throws herself up on the bed. Strong arms catch her and bring her in to cuddle close. She’s home, and now you all are too, together always. 

[were-wolverine]

selina adopts dick au - details

- bruce and selina are dating when she adopts dick, and continue to date on and off. they get married after bruce adopts jason but still live separately because selina values her independence

- dick and jason (and later tim) have sleepovers all the time when they’re younger

- each of the boys has their own specific cat at Selina’s that they got to name. dick has a calico named Penny, jason has a tabby named Ernest and tim has a tuxedo named Mittens

- babs dick jason and tim went to Gotham Academy together (in this au it’s a K-12)

- babs & dick are best friends that flirt as vigilantes cuz they think it’s funny. they were friends as civilians first before revealing their identities which just made them even closer

- since selina is good friends with Harley & Ivy, and dick doesn’t work with Batman, they are basically dick’s aunties. him and harley do gymnastics together and she teaches him self-defense, ivy helps him with his chemistry homework and they often garden together

(he makes them promise not to hurt Batboy because that’s his little brother!! and so they usually just tie him up and put him in the corner while they deal with Batman lol)

- dick as Stray will often lead Batboy on chases to distract him when Batman fights some of his more ruthless rogues, because he’d rather have jason chase him and some priceless museum artifact than get hurt by a villain. he always lets jason catch him and return the artifacts in the end bc jason doesn’t call the cops on him lol

note: babs becomes Batgirl at 14 about a year after dick becomes Stray. jason (13) becomes Batboy when dick is 16 and babs is 17

- so: babs (17) is Batgirl, dick (16) is Stray and jason (13) is Batboy. tim (10) is not a vigilante but basically lives with dick and selina atp. they all know each other’s identities and go to school together

- babs (18) is shot by the joker about a year into jason (14) being Batboy. she becomes Oracle after teaching herself how to hack

- after graduating she moves to boston and goes to harvard law, but still helps Batman as Oracle

- dick (17) is a senior, jason (14) is a freshman, and tim (11) is in like 6th grade. dick continues to be Stray and jason continues to be Batboy until they graduate

- jason is 15 when he decides not to look for his birth mom (Sheila Haywood) and spends a few months living with selina before returning to the manor (mostly for alfred)

- when babs returns from boston after two years (she graduates early bc she’s a genius like that) she becomes a more permanent presence as Oracle and this is when tim asks to be her apprentice

- dick (19) went to college for a year before dropping out and enrolling in a paramedics program, which he is about halfway through (they take two years in NJ)

- around this time is when dick gives Stray to tim and instead becomes Nightwing (he read about the Kryptonian legend in an interview with Superman by Lois Lane), a vigilante that mainly does detective work and helps injured people instead of fighting criminals

- jason (16) is a junior and plans to leave Batboy behind when he goes to college

- luckily, this is when steph (14) as Spoiler shows up and basically forces Batman to train her. jason thinks she is hilarious and they become good friends. tim (13) is Stray atp and they end up having (another) Batman/Catwoman dynamic as Stray and Spoiler

- tim and steph do date briefly but decide they are better off as friends. the Cats are way less uptight about their identities so steph knows Stray & Nightwing are tim & dick

- dick still lives in Selina’s apartment with her and tim. he briefly dorms at Gotham University for the year he’s there but ultimately moves back (he misses his mom and his little brother and the cats)

- Spoiler helps out Batman when he needs an extra hand but prefers to patrol with Nightwing and be his crime-fighting partner while he helps the victims. they work really well together

- Stray and Spoiler honestly don’t cross paths very often unless they are purposefully hanging out together or both following Nightwing around

- jason helps train steph before he goes off to college and when he does, babs give steph the Batgirl mantle. she works more with Batman after jason leaves but still patrols with NW when she can

- jason goes abroad for college and later talia invites him to the League to be trained and tutored (talia and bruce are exes but ended on good terms. talia and selina are good friends and gossip about bruce). she also appoints him as her son’s bodyguard (she doesn’t mention that Damian is bruce’s… not yet at least)

- jason is also still sent to the All Caste cuz i think he deserves magic swords. in nanda parbat he is trained in martial arts and gets tutors for anything he wants to learn. talia basically adopts him as her own (selina is 100% aware of this and is happy for them, she and jason were never as close as her and dick or tim)

note: i changed this from jason’s original ending bc i wanted to include talia and damian

- tim is sent to boarding school by his dad and for a few months steph steps in as Stray. selina is eventually able to get custody of tim and bring him back to gotham, and he gets Stray back as steph chooses to become Spoiler again

- during the time tim is at boarding school, bruce finds and adopts cass. steph gives her Batgirl so she can sub in as Stray. cass happily takes on the role and loves working alongside bruce

(random side note: selina and talia have def hooked up before and talia calls both selina and bruce ‘beloved’)

timeline/ages

babs (20) is Oracle, dick (19) is Nightwing, jason (16) is Batboy, tim (13) is Stray, and steph (14) is Spoiler

after that we skip a year or two. babs (22) is still Oracle, dick (21) is still Nightwing, jason (18) is off in college, tim (15) is still Stray and steph (16) is Batgirl

the next year jason (19) is with the League, tim (16) is at boarding school, steph (17) is temporarily Stray and cass (18) is Batgirl

[missezramay]

ted lasso, post-finale thoughts.

I went into the finale thinking yeah, if the writing serves, I can accept any outcome even if it's not exactly what I want. Instead, I was hit with a plethora of mixed emotions I didn't expect to have. Confusion, anger, hurt, annoyance, small bursts of joy in between, and just deep sadness. Almost 20 hours later and I'm still incredibly dissatisfied and processing. For the most part, finales should provide a feeling of celebration and relief. I... don't feel any of that.

I'm just really trying to pinpoint why I'm so sad.

Of course everything inevitably has to come to an end. Of course Ted was always going to reunite with his kid. Of course it's not about winning or losing. Of course Tedbecca can remain platonic if that was always the plan. Of course that's the way life goes, but...

For a show (and this season particularly) that constantly encouraged us to 'believe' and 'hope' in the idea that 'everything will work out', all those 75 minutes did was take me on an unsettling, emotional journey for no concrete reason other than to mess with the audience (the opening scene was just adding salt in the Tedbecca wound I've had since S2). Because everything in a macro sense, "worked out". But the WAY it "worked out" does not sit well with me?? And it's supposed to? For a lot of people (on Reddit/Facebook, lol), it was enough?? Richmond not technically winning and Ted leaving like that without so much as a tear? What am I missing??

When I tell you I'm trying to embrace the good parts, I'm really trying. Yes to KBPR & the women's team, Yes to Colin kissing his fella, Yes to Rebecca & Mae & the guys owning the club, Yes to Roy becoming Manager.

So... why am I still so upset? Hmm, let's see.

The boys' musical number? The cutest. Ted didn't think so.

Nate's apology? Heartbreaking. Ted didn't bat an eyelash.

Rebecca begging twice for Ted to stay? Ted, absolute silence.

Beard staying/getting married in London to his toxic gf? Comic relief, haha, fine. Except Ted wasn't there as Best Man.

Don't even get me started on the huge disservice to the Roy/Keeley/Jamie triangle.

Now listen, I get that he misses Henry & Henry misses his dad. I'm not that cold. A father/son's love is important. It was always the catalyst for this show; for him to work on himself so he can be a better father unlike the one he grew up with. That's fine.

But on this particular week. His last week with his Richmond family. There was NO sense of him being sad to leave them. He can be sad about missing Henry but he can ALSO be sad about leaving. No, he just completely checked out. He let everyone pour out their hearts (Hannah's getting her third Emmy, mark my words) to him, and he just stone-faced the entire time.

THIS DOES NOT MAKE ANY SENSE TO ME.

The argument is that he was internally processing, he was overwhelmed, he was trying to distance himself so it would hurt less. Fair points, okay. But this is a television show, moreover, A FINALE. TV characters, while relatable, are heightened versions of ourselves, there so we can better process our emotions and learn to handle things better in our real lives. Ted deserved MORE dialogue and displaying MORE emotion than whatever this was.

We're never going to see him again. We're over here crying along with Rebecca, Nate & Beard, but he didn't sob once. Even though he spent three years building a family with them. I even thought, hey at least he left his legacy with Trent's book but newsflash, he wanted his name taken off that too! Complete erasure.

I just feel so robbed of better moments. Like there were nice moments here and there. But they could've been BETTER. Honestly, Nate & Rebecca's breakdowns were close to perfection, so much love there. But the lack of dialogue and Ted not reciprocating? Broke ME.

I just cannot. understand. this. choice.

Massive sigh. I'm just truly baffled by the way everything wrapped up and not getting the satisfied feeling that one half of the viewership got. Maybe I'm in the minority, but that means something. It carries weight. Also, for a "three-season arc" that was planned well in advance, why all the rewrites and parallels and fakeouts... it's just cruel. But as the theme says (and maybe this was a warning all along), yeah, I guess this might well be it.

This show has given us so much and the last season flailed for the most part. I don't want to disrespect the show by being negative and cynical (looks like I failed!!) or cast blame on anyone in particular. The cast/crew are amazing people and I'll be grateful for being a part of the journey but I'm just so sad and this feeling sucks and I will never get over it.

Going to miss them. x

[anotheroceanid]

Deleted Scene from Chapter 4

Because I don't think I'll manage to finish chapter five for this weekend, so at least I'll post something. It was meant to take place between one of Percy's interaction with Medea, it's a flashback from when she met Circe in the events of SoM.

I might use it in a different chapter, or rewrite it, btw, enjoy lol

Percy had met her aunt a few years ago… Not, not a few. Thirteen at the time, freshly out of seventh grade. Not much older than her sons, an impressionable child still lost in the new world she had been thrown at, to whom Circe had offered a place. A safe place, far from gods, far from danger.

Circe spoke of things Percy would much later comprehend. More than often, Percy caught herself thinking about each of them.

Percy knew, even at an early age, which being part of the hunt wouldn’t have worked for her. She either would fumble that bad, or someone would fumble it for her. She never felt any call to it, unless she considered the all-consuming terror the war struck her with. However… What would’ve been of her life, and the world, had she accepted to stay in Aeaea with Circe? 

‘You and your friend, ‘The sorceress had said, a voice so soothing that it silenced all the “Danger" alarms beeping inside her head, ‘both of you have a natural inclination for magic. I might be biassed, but there is something about those whose line comes from the sea.’

With the little discernment her brain managed to do against Circe's voice, Percy frowned, ‘Annabeth is a daughter of Athena.’ 

Circe giggled as if she had been delighted by a baby’s first world.

‘She is, indeed.’ Circe agreed, fixing the golden stephane in Percy’s hair, amusedly tilting her head to the side, as if she had seen something curious. ‘My aunt Metis, her grandmother, was rather tricky.’

‘Your aunt?’ Percy echoed, widening her eyes as she turned from the mirror to stare directly at Circe's face, with wonder on her eyes. She scanned through the woman's face, looking for anything that her best friend might've shared with her. ‘You are Annabeth's cousin.’

‘Aren't we all, in a way?’ Circe used her hands to kindly turn Percy toward the mirror again, where she stared at a much more gracious girl than herself. Some pleased entity inside of Percy smiled at the sight; the girl in the mirror was gorgeous. The more Percy looked at that girl, the more she liked her. 

Circe had dressed her in a soft linen dress, embroidered with golden motifs across the blue fabric, making Percy’s thirteen years old self feel like she was in Disneyland having a princess makeover. Just better. She had never worn something so nice, and usually thought herself not made for vanity. 

Percy thought of Silena Beauregard, the Aphrodite girl who was nice to everyone, and who recently decided she wanted to befriend Percy and ever since has been trying to dress her up. Looking at that girl in the mirror, whose lashes fluttered every time she blinked, Percy wondered if it wouldn't be nice to look like that all the time. 

In a spoken lullaby, Circe kept talking, ‘My mother, Perseis, married Helios, her cousin. They had me, my sister Pasiphae, and our younger brothers, Aeetes and Perses. Pasiphae married Zeus’ son, Minos, and I suppose you know how the story went.’

Percy's face got red like a boiled tomato. ‘The Minotaur is your nephew?’ The Minotaur is Annabeth's cousin? Was an equally urgent question hanging on her mind. 

‘We are all cousins.’ Circe repeated, brushing a lock of Percy's hair. ‘I shall not hold it against you, I tend to stand by my fellow females, so I couldn't care less about what you did to him. I did dislike that brother of yours, though. A matter of principles.’ As she spoke, Percy noticed the guinea pigs getting anxious in their cage. Staring at them, she blinked a few times. ‘Don't look at them.’

For some reason, before Percy could rationalise the words, her neck had already moved, and she looked into the mirror again. She smiled at the pretty girl, with the golden skin, liquorice curls and sea green eyes. She was so pretty, like the girls in Aphrodite’s cabin. Percy wanted so much to be that girl; she didn't seem to have any problem at all going on in her life.

Then, she frowned again. ‘But Athena was born from Zeus's head.’

A glimpse of madness crossed Circe's green eyes, and Percy only recognised it because she had seen it before. In herself. A cold ran down her spine. She looked at the girl, straight into her eyes, and suddenly she was afraid of all that beauty. Still, she couldn't stop gazing at her.

‘Indeed.’ Circe hummed as she regained her composure. ‘There was this prophecy, a prophecy that said a son of Metis would do to Zeus what Zeus did to his own father. So, before his son could embrace his prophecy, Zeus embraced the wickedness he inherited from the Crooked One. He swallowed my aunt Metis, who was already pregnant. That's, sweetie, is how Athena came to be.’

Percy remained in silence for a second, not sure about what to think. She wasn't new to the gods being cruel, but…She thought that they were at least above cannibalism. Wasn't that the reason Tantalus got punished in the first place?

‘There is nothing the gods fear more than the possibility of ending up like the titans.’ Circe spoke, rather darkly, sending a cold down Percy's spine. Circe's finger caressed the curve of Percy's cheek, and she couldn't help but notice how inhumanly sharp those were. Like talons. Then, she brought both hands to Percy's uncovered shoulders and almost dug those nails in the flesh. ‘The day will come, it's been promised, that someone will come. The children of Kronos have always been destined to whiter.’

Percy remained silent for a second, then grit her teeth as if that had been a particular offence against her. ‘My father is a child of Kronos.’

‘He is, do you worry?’

‘He’s my dad.’ Percy wanted to scream, but her voice felt so tame and melodic, almost like Circe's. The sorceress smiled and Percy swallowed hard. ‘I think I should go after Annabeth, I…’ Again, that was too sweet to be Percy's voice.

‘Nice try, but not quite enough.’ Circe mumbled, ‘Listed to the wisdom of someone who had parents who'd tear down the world for her: you'd be better off without him. And your friend? I've seen how Athena turns against her favourites. She is the goddess of wisdom, and her greatest wisdom so far is knowing her father will love her much more as a mirror of himself. She bears his pride like a crown. Do you want to become like her? A mirror your father can look into to stroke his ego?’ Percy opened her lips to answer, but Circe was faster than her, ‘In that camp, you're both mere tools. Here, I can bring the better out of two thriving girls. Stay here, with me. You have the two things that wake the worst in the gods. Think of Helen of Sparta, the power she had, all she could've been…’

Percy remained silent and for a moment allowed herself to indulge with the fantasy of living on that island for the rest of her days, feeling as beautiful and special as she did in that moment. However, how could that be correct? 

‘I'm just me…’ She mumbled, ‘And I have my mom, I cannot just abandon her.’

‘Your mom won't live forever, Percy Jackson.’ Circe caressed Percy's curls and then her cheeks, in an almost maternal way. Percy didn't like that; she already had a mom.

Petulant, she snapped, ‘She'll probably live longer than me.’

Circe's eyes turned sad. ‘We, daughters, can’t help but dream about it… Think about it, Percy. Look in the mirror, feel the storm in the tip of your fingers. You're flicking a glimpse of who you'll be. Trust me you don't want to flourish in display for the gods to see, do you?’

The guinea pigs screamed, and Percy turned again to them, trying to remember something that had been hazed by Circe's presence. Something that Chiron had said. Strangely, something extremely specific about pigs. ‘I…’

‘They'll waste all your potential.’ She argued, now rather passionately. ‘Glory is a prize awarded to boys… Hercules, Dionysus, Asclepius. I do not offer you glory; I offer you freedom you'll never know otherwise. Let gods and titans feast on themselves. Don't be their pawn. Live up to your name, Persephone.’

Percy never knew what she would've answered, for a second later Annabeth had stormed into that room and the next thing Percy knows is that she is stealing a pirate's ship.

[literallyjustforlurking]

Daughters of Ancient Greece (I met you by the garden)

We all know that Zoe was alive during the time of Heracles and since there is no definitive answer of when Heracles and Odysseus's stories happened in reference to eachother I decided that they happened at the same time and as such Penelope and Zoe met after Zoe was betrayed by Heracles and ousted from the garden of the Hesperides for helping him steal a golden apple.

At this point Penelope was unmarried and still lived in Sparta and when a spartan princess sees a demititaness/nature spirit who looks ready to start biting people they welcome them with open arms (lol). But Penelope helps Zoe get back on her feet and helps her deal with the betrayal and no longer being welcome by her family, all the while Zoe is acting as one of handmaidens to keep her parents and sisters from intervening.

(Helen and Clytemnestra both remember this handmaiden who showed up out of nowhere and kept scaring off all of Penelope's suitors but they never bothered to ask until they meet Zoe and it's like *insert suprised pikachu face*)

One day Artemis's hunt is in the region and both Zoe and Penelope get an invitation, while accepts, and is very excited to do use, Penelope thinks on it an declines, Zoe is devestated but promises to come visit and Artemis says it is an open inviation for as long as Penelope remains a maiden and even if she does not she will still be under Artemis's protection.

(It's another headcannon of mine that Zoe was one of the fist members of the hunt and that's why Artemis is so attached to her, so P!Percy is really suprised at how big and organized the hunt has gotten because she's used to it being really small just a few girls and less than a century old!)

And the moment Zoe leaves Odysseus appears and falls head over heals for Penelope and then romances her and Zoe shows back up like a year later only to find out Penelope married the lying, cheating, tricky king of Ithaca who Athena's training to die. Zoe is pissed. Zoe takes the rest of the hunt and storms but to Penelope's place and is like "What the fuck were you thinking? You could have done so much better? That one looks like a drowned rat and all men do is lie! And he's famous for lying!"

Odysseus fears for his life as a goddess and her lieutenant shit talk him to his wife's face while his wife invites them in for dinner. Zoe has also met Telemachus and is like "if there will ever be a not bad man it will be the one you raise old friend"

After they see each again, (Probably around the begining of book three right after Annabeth falls off the cliff), Zoe trys to convince P!Percy to join the hunt because while Zoe knows Penelope loved Odysseus she was still alone for 20 years and stuck with the suitors that whole time and you know Zoe came and visited sometimes and saw what was going on and was pissed at Odysseus and kept being like "Penelope, Penelope, just leave him, fuck your husband, we'll even let you bring the boy"

Penelope doesn't leave but Zoe still greatly dislikes Odysseus.

And that means since Telemachus never met any of his mothers sisters (Odysseus has a sister Ctimene so technically Telemachus does have an aunt) Zoe was practically his aunt and Artemis and Athena have beef because while Telemachus trained with Athena more he knew Artemis for longer (and maybe Artemis taught him how to shoot since him father was away)

This post really got away from me so I hope you like i! :)

(What are you talking about homoerotic undertones? Where are you getting that from? Nooooo)

[enihk-writes]

[at the end of a burnt wick]

pairing: tang bo x afab!she/her!reader

NOT exactly an x reader because i didn't want tang bo and reader's relationship to be romantic, tried to make them platonic / co-workers like ah-duo and the emperor from the apothecary diaries + implied tangchung because all roads lead to old men yaoi

summary: anthology of a married pair

content warning: archaic wedding practices mentioned (i.e. having to consummate a marriage against the will of both parties) // stillbirth and child loss (disconnect with traditional expectations of parenthood)

word count: 6.66k

author's note: my roman empire lately is about how i used to audition to nijisanji and only niji at least 3-4 times (didn't even pass the first stage lol) before i got really fixated with rotbb.... maybe one day i will try my hand at vtubing and streaming again... for now it's fanfiction time ragggghhh!!!!! fictional men 4ever!!!!

[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]

═══════════════

FIRST MEETING

the first time the young tang bo met her, was when he was a little over fifteen.

she was also just as young as he — a wee lass that had yet to lose the childlike roundness of her cheeks, round eyes that seemed to sparkle in wonderment at all the grandeur around her. tang bo didn't understand what was so special about the surroundings, he'd grown up here all his life and had already seen most of anything money could buy. this girl was weird.

he didn't find out until much later that this was the first time she had ever left the four walls of her room, much less her own home.

he thinks that it was no wonder she had looked so amazed with everything she saw back then. he can't imagine a life where he had to live constrained to one place, going through the same routine everyday would have bored him to death.

he wasn't looking forward to future conversations with that girl — he was certain she would be utterly dull and boring.

═══════════════

ENGAGEMENT

tang bo was furious that the elders had went and signed off the engagement contract without even asking for his approval. he had been meeting with countless hopefuls for a few years by now, and he'd been able to fend them all off by acting in ways that had all these well-bred ladies huffing and puffing in indignation. crying to their fathers that they would rather die than marry a man like he.

so who was it that agreed to this!

tang bo mutters under his breath, teeth gritted, fists clenched. he had to see with his own two eyes the woman who was stupid or desperate enough to let herself be wed to the likes of him.

elder!

the young man throws open the doors to the main hall, not caring one bit about the guests sitting inside. the elders and the patriarch in question frowned at his behaviour, biting their tongues from chastising him in front of strangers.

his gaze lands on a familiar face, a little older and a lot less naive, but familiar nonetheless. he didn't know that a person's demeanour could change so drastically in a few years.

tang bo's hands fall to his sides, he shuffles towards the end of the table, plopping down on the empty spot across his soon-to-be betrothed. he eyes her figure, chewing on the inside of his mouth, trying to come up with something to insult her with.

tang bo—

the patriarch didn't even get the chance to finish his sentence when the young man scoffs at the girl's face, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a sneer.

really? her?

tang bo glances over at the heads of his family, finger pointing rudely in the girl's face. they all sigh, knowing what was about to come from the impudent boy. they could only hope this girl wouldn't take his jabs to heart.

hey you.

he juts his chin at her.

all my other candidates looked prettier than you. hey, did you even bother to put in any effort when coming to meet me?

she ignored him, sipping on her tea serenely. the girl's guardians shift in their seats nervously. ah, this young master has yet to face their mistress' infamous anger.

tang bo clicks his tongue.

oi, did you even — hey!

he didn't expect her to splash the remainder of her drink onto him. the warm liquid splatters across his face and drips down his now damp hair, even the front of his robes were now soiled from the tea.

he looks over to the elders of his family in surprise, hoping that they'd stand up for him but none met his eye. he felt betrayed when he catches some of them trying to hide the twitch of their mouths suppressing their laughs.

they all thought that it was about time someone put this boy in his place, talented and intelligent as he may be.

needless to say, the rest of the meeting went on smoothly. and it ended with the confirmation of the two's engagement. much to tang bo's despair and the girl's indifference.

═══════════════

FIRST 'DATE'

he really tried his best to drag his feet that day. the elders had arranged for an evening dinner in the newly established inn downtown with his bride-to-be and tang bo really did not want to go. he was kicking up a fuss with his clothes, this one was too dull, that one is too bright, it's too rough, it's too short... and so on. but when he finally ran out of excuses and the attendants tiredly managed to dress him appropriately — the sun was beginning to set.

tang bo perks up. perhaps he didn't have to go out with her after all!

he steps out of his room, surprised to see that there was no one in the courtyard. he shouldn't have felt a jolt of worry then, but he did, and he wondered if something was wrong.

where is she?

he asks to no one in particular, heading to her room three doors down from his, footfalls heavy on the lacquered wooden planks of the corridor. he hears panicked voices muffled behind the doors and throws the doors to her room open.

she sat in the middle of the room in nothing but her undergarments, surrounded by the tang estate's maids and piles of unworn clothes. she had her back facing him, and all he could see were the maids hurriedly hiding away the containers of makeup all shying away from his scrutinising gaze.

out.

the maids didn't have to be told twice. they all scurried out of her room like mice, tails between their legs and faces pursed in anxiety at being caught in the middle of something they probably shouldn't be doing. tang bo sighed heavily. to think the woman he was to marry was getting bullied, by mere maids too? he felt ashamed on her behalf. he didn't like people who were fine with others taking advantage and stepping all over them. he hated that they didn't have a backbone to stand up for themselves.

kicking off his shoes, he entered her room — nose scrunched up instinctively at the suffocating dust in the air. he looked around to see all the windows shut tightly, there were no gaps for even a sliver of light to shine inside.

how has this girl been living so far, for her to be fine with this treatment?

tang bo coughed, stumbling over to open the windows, lightheaded from the lack of breathable air. he waves his hands to chase the dust outside, coughing even harder when the little particles get all up in his face.

he hears her giggle. much to his growing annoyance, what was so funny anyway.

he sits in front of her, letting the pile of unworn clothes cushion him from the hard floor. under the orange glow of the setting sun, he sees her for the first time today, all dolled up in the most garish makeup that would have certainly humiliated her, and had he not barged in she would have had to go around in public like that.

you look uglier today.

she chuckled and hummed in response, she looks around in search of something. grabbing a rag from under the clothes, she proceeded to wipe off her painted face, only to have tang bo take it out of her hands with a soft, let me.

he holds her chin between his fingers, rubbing off the white powder that contrasted starkly against her skin, making her look sickly. he rubs off the crudely drawn-out eyebrows and the thick rouge that sat on her lips. he can't help but notice the way her lashes fluttered as she tried to keep her eyes closed. maybe his fiancee was a little cute.

with her face now bare, the girl lets out the breath she had been holding. but tang bo wasn't done yet.

where are you facing. turn back here.

he ordered pointedly, and she couldn't help but to go back into her prior position. lips and eyes squeezed shut, much like a puppy getting told off for misbehaving.

picking up a brush out of the many lying haphazardly over the vanity, tang bo dipped it's tip into the little porcelain jar left ajar. it was lipstick in a shade deep red, the type that would have looked lovely especially on her.

he holds the girl's now bare face in one hand, the brush in the other, outlining the shape of her lips with the new rouge. the feathery touch of the brush tip was ticklish, moreso with how tang bo had been holding it in an uncharacteristically gentle way as though he were a potter painting intricate patterns on a cup before he sent it off to the burning fires in a kiln.

he pinched the brush, smudging the tint against his fingers and drawing faint circles at the outer corner of her eyes.

tang bo leans back to admire his handiwork. he couldn't help but feel proud of the results. not only was he good at martial arts and medicine, he had an amazing eye for aesthetics too? where would anyone find a better husband then he?

the girl opens her eyes cautiously, her gaze meeting his. he looked pleased, boastful even.

hmph. you look more presentable now.

he hands her a mirror, and as she looks at her reflection against the shiny bronze surface, she had to agree. her fiance had done a good job with her face. maybe he wasn't all that awful.

thank you, young master tang.

the girl smiled, her eyes crinkling upwards in a smile. tang bo scoffs and looks out the window, hiding his embarrassment at her sincere words. thinking back now, this was the first he'd heard her speak, wasn't it? maybe he should pay more attention once in a while.

heh. of course you should be thanking me.

the sky and grown dark. lucky him, he didn't have to go out to that dinner with her after all.

═══════════════

THE FIRST REAL DATE

tang bo felt a little irked that she had been walking behind him even when he had slowed down to match her pace. it's almost like she had been deliberately hanging back.

you.

he grabs her wrist and pulls her towards him. she stumbled over her feet and falls over with a startled squeak.

you're my fiancee. so stand proud and walk beside me.

he declares with a hand on his hip, the grip on her wrist with his other not once loosening. he walks again, just as slow as he had been earlier, feeling a little happy that the girl no longer lagged behind.

he'd started to warm up to her, no longer seeing her as the stranger living in his house, one day to become his wife. she was more akin to a little sister he'd have to babysit.

no, actually she was more like an apprehensive kitten left on his doorstep that he'd grown to like taking care of.

buying her sweets and spoiling her with accessories she might not even have a chance to wear just because he thought she'd look cute in them has been one of his favourite hobbies these days.

why was he so anxious about getting engaged before? ever since she became his fiancee, he didn't have to go out and meet with any more annoying noble ladies clamouring over each other trying to win over his affection. the best part was that she kept to herself, and minded her own business unless it was time to visit the elders and the patriarch for afternoon tea — which he didn't mind since having her as his own personal walking event reminder has really saved him from getting scolded even more by the old farts.

ah! look! they're selling meat skewers over there! come on, let's go get some! i'm sure you'd like those too.

tang bo giggles and drags the girl over to another street vendor. ah, lucky him. he's hit the jackpot with the whole engagement game — a tolerable and cute wife-to-be, could a boy ask for anything more? guanyin-ma really was looking over him after all.

═══════════════

FORTUNE TELLER

after two seasons of living under the same roof, the heads of the tang clan decide that it was time for the two to meet with the fortune teller. set up an auspicious date through the tung shing, and be wed on the right phase of the moon and the best placement of the stars in the sky.

the young master is lucky to have found someone this compatible. it is hard for children born in his year to find a suitable partner. they say snakes rarely get along with the other zodiacs.

says the old eccentric woman who proclaimed herself to be the best fortune teller in sichuan and the one who had been checking the birthdates of all the potential brides that had been introduced to tang bo thus far. the boy felt the urge to get up and fight that hack, respecting his elders be damned, so she was the one sending him all those insufferable girls his way.

he feels a hand grab at his arm. fingers digging into his flesh enough to keep him seated. he looks over at the girl sitting next to him, expression unchanging, her body angled to lean a little closer to his.

his hand reached over discreetly to peel her fingers off him, bringing her hand down to hold his under the table, fingers intertwined. she seemed to relax a little, tense shoulders falling ever gently, her jaw growing slightly more slack.

to the untrained eye, the girl's expressions were the same. but to him, he's watched her long enough, even if it wasn't every day, to spot the subtle changes whenever she expressed herself. tang bo pats himself on the back for being such an attentive fiance.

his attention shifted from the conversation between the fortune teller and the elders to the girl's hand. they were soft and smooth, as expected of a lady of noble birth. his on the other hand were calloused from training, the tips of his fingers were starting to turn darker from the constant exposure to poisons. shit, he might have to start wearing gloves.

the girl hadn't been paying attention to the conversation going on either, spacing out until the elders called on the two. stifling their startled gasp, the two youngins stared at their elders, a confused expression painted on their faces, not one bit guilty for ignoring everything that was being said.

ah, it's good they are getting along well.

the fortune teller chuckled with a knowing glint in her eye trying to suggest something, but both tang bo and the girl didn't seem to catch her drift, the old woman's point flying over their heads.

the elders soon turn back to their discussion, talking about the best days that would suit the two.

look here, since they are both born as snakes, their auspicious numbers are two, eight and nine. i'd suggest we hold the wedding...

tang bo nudges at the girl.

hey.

she looks up at him. he leaned down next to her ear, wanting to ask her about her birthday, too embarrassed to ask about it outright in front of the elders. he didn't want to seem like an incompetent fiance to his future bride.

she hides a growing grin. it was nice of him to start paying attention to her. little steps, little steps. she wriggles her hand out of his grasp and writes down the date with her finger on the surface of his palm.

good thing their hands were under the table, or people would know about the cause of the redness dusting the back of his ears.

the meeting dragged on until late in the evening. it ended with the agreement that they were to be wed on the eighth day of the eighth month on the eighth year of the emperor's reign.

truly the most auspicious day for a union.

═══════════════

A BRIDE-TO-BE'S DRESSING ROOM

the long-awaited day came by later than expected. the previous emperor passed before he even got close to the eighth year of his reign. not wanting to change the numbers of the date, the elders decided to push the event back until the current emperor had reached his eighth year.

by then, the two had grown into a man and a woman, a lot older than the common age to be wed. but it was no matter. who would dare speak up against the tang clan's young master and his wife-to-be?

the day, hell, even the night before had been hectic. tang bo slipped past his attendants to take a peak at what was going on in her room. traditions be damned, who cares about the groom not seeing his bride until they were at the altar? that was so outdated!

what are you doing here?

she had been left alone to rest from the non-stop preparations since before dawn. tang bo walks in, careful not to make too much noise as he slides the door shut behind him.

why? can't i visit my wife?

i am not your wife.

yet~

his teasing voice moved behind her. he picked up the brush to comb out the knots that were all tangled up — the maids had put on extensions to lengthen her hair. she hadn't been able to grow them to the expected length, much to the annoyance of the maids. they hadn't been nice when attaching the accessories, she could still feel the burning sensation on her scalp.

there was no need to kick up a fuss at this point. especially in front of tang bo. this guy would have kicked out all the attendants who had been treating her poorly, but that felt like too easy of a punishment. she wanted to deal with them herself when the time comes, sorry for that, young master tang.

the leather gloves he wore were cold, and the feeling of his fingertips scratching against her scalp was soothing, enough to draw out a quiet purr from the woman. much to her shocked embarassment.

oh?

she leans away from him.

...please ignore that.

but how could he?

my wife... how can you be so cute~!

i need you to shut up right now.

═══════════════

WORLD'S MOST BORING CEREMONY

if it was any consolation, the two had agreed that this whole affair was a pain in their ass.

wife, do you know when this will end?

what makes you think i have the answer to that?

tang bo thinks his bride was lucky to have that red veil over her face. if she wanted to shut her eyes and sleep, none of the guests nor elders would be any wiser. poor old him. they should have made a veil for the goom too, which smartass decided otherwise anyway? if he ever met that person, tang bo promised he would pummel the other to the ground.

wife.

she hums in acknowledgement, bowing her head at a guest who had come up to the front to pay their blessings to the pair.

wife.

tang bo called out again, his tone getting a little impatient. wincing when he felt her pinch the skin between his thumb and index finger. he tried to smile at the strangers passing them by, feeling drained and completely spent from the day's activities. it didn't help that the noisy chatter of everyone around them was making him feel worse.

wife, you should tell the elders that you're tired and want to rest for the night... i'm sure they'd listen to you.

why me? you go!

huh? me? nuh-uh, you go!

the back and forth lasted for a bit until they both agreed to ask the elders together. after all, having a partner-in-crime to take the fall together with you was way better than facing backlash alone.

perhaps the atmosphere of a wedding had put the elders in a carefree mood, perhaps it was the result of a dozen empty wine bottles. they think it might be both, but no matter, they received permission to get out of there.

the best news either had ever heard today.

scurring away quickly, the newlyweds giggle amongst each other like kids up to no good even as they were well into their twenties. the guests and elders cooed in amusement, talking about how nice it must be to be young and in love.

though that second part was so far from the truth, when the two talk about it again in their later years, it had grown into a funny story they liked to reminisce about over a midnight drink.

═══════════════

THE FIRST NIGHT

tang bo glanced over at his wife, carrying the same grimace as she did. it was hard not to cringe at the overtly crude decorations in their now shared room.

right. that was how it was in these parts. they were now husband and wife so the elders are probably expecting the results of the two carrying out their marital duties within the next year.

i don't want to do that...

me neither...

now sitting across each other on the floor, they discuss how to trick the maids who would certainly check the bedding the next morning. if nothing happened tonight then they would be under more scrutiny. but who's to say that there won't be any surveillance after? ugh! this was all so annoying!

tang bo watched as the woman before him let out a big sigh, dropping her head into her hands. he felt sorry for his wife, it must be hard living as the new daughter-in-law of his family.

should we get this done and over with?

he suggested finally, after exhausting all their options. his wife makes a face at that, but she can't argue.

awkwardly he hands over a vial, an all-purpose antidote of sorts, in case she gets accidentally poisoned while coming into contact with him. the head had passed it to him sometime during the ceremony earlier, tang bo had been hoping he didn't have to use it, at least he held himself back from throwing the whole vial at the wall when it was given.

he didn't say it at first, but he could hear the eyes and ears surrounding them grow careless every few moments, revealing their presence by accident with an unintentional movement or sound. how uncouth of them to be watching the two newlyweds like this. it seemed she'd also noticed their presence, with how she'd glance out the windows whenever a small rustle was heard.

i'm so sorry.

he murmured an apology as he kissed her cheek — he didn't have to look to know she had a faint look of disdain, directed to no one in particular yet still stung through his heart.

it's not your fault.

so she says. but it might as well be. to him at least.

the consummation wasn't a pleasant process. neither could look at the other in the eye. the knowledge that people were standing outside the room to listen in on the completion of their marriage made this whole ordeal so much worse.

wife...i...

tang bo feels his hips stutter, his face burns in shame as his hoarse voice tries to speak.

her hands reach out to brush his hair out of his face, fingertips lightly smooth out the crease of his furrowed brows. she'd resigned herself long ago, knowing this whole process was inevitable from the time she reached adolescence. to think her own husband did not...

she felt a slight twinge of pity. the young master tang was a lot more sheltered than she had thought.

when it was all over, they scrambled to get away from the other, each sitting at the furthest end of the bed — letting what had conspired sink in. how many more times would this have to happen in the future?

she was the first to collect herself. getting up, she shuffles over to tang bo, her hand reaching out for his.

my husband, we should go and clean up.

he nodded, taking her hand in his wordlessly as she led him to the tub hidden behind the partition. after dipping the dry towels in the now warm water to wipe their bodies clean, slipping into clean nightgowns and peeling off the soiled bedspreads to throw them aside, they finally crawl under the covers, yawning tiredly.

sleep came over easily, surprisingly enough.

═══════════════

DIAGNOSIS

the questions that hung around in the air at this time of the year were all about babies, children, the next generation. everyone wanted to know which of the wedded members would be expecting soon.

most eyes were turned on tang bo and his wife.

unfortunately.

their marriage had happened over five years ago, almost ten, and all this time their other relatives who had gotten married later than they were popping out one offspring after another — yet none were to be seen for the young lord and his lady. the elders often lamented on the silence of their side of the estate.

rumour has it that their relationship was on the rocks, with how neither shared a room nor did they spend a night together like all the tang spouses — save for the occasional times they'd go to visit the other's quarters every two to three months. to scratch an itch as one might say. after all, they were still young and quite healthy, so such urges were still common occurrences. might as well do it with someone familiar rather than do that with a stranger.

the relationship between tang bo and his wife was actually far more amicable than anyone could have guessed. it was hard to describe the solace they'd found in each other's unspoken commanderie within the household. they'd been living together long enough to know virtually everything about each other, yet there was always a line drawn between them to keep the distance.

today, she wasn't here for any of their usual arrangements. tang bo had came back to find his wife nursing a cup of tea in one hand, resting it on top of a propped-up leg. she had set out a game of weiqi on the table, next to a steaming teapot and array of snacks.

looks like someone's got news.

his teasing voice called out to the woman, settling down on the seat across her. he hums in thought, contemplating his move as she places down her white bead on the board.

your uncle came over to see why we weren't having kids yesterday. he's given me the results this morning, right after you left.

the woman holds out the folded paper, a little crumpled from being kept between the layers of her robes. tang bo takes it, opening it to read what his so-called uncle had diagnosed his wife with. talk about elder butting into a youngster's business for no good reason.

this...

he says that i'm barren.

she looks down with a small smile,and it looked a little bitter. of course, how could she not be? after all that had happened those few years back?

to say that she's unable to carry a child after all she had gone through back then was such a cruel prank from the heavens. he knows his wife wanted to be a mother more than anything, to give that little baby all her love in the world or along those sentiments — as did he. so if that's not going to happen... then, what now?

they were silent as they moved their beads across the game board. contemplating their next moves and what to say to the other.

there's crab stick snacks here, you should try some.

as always, she breaks the silence first. grabbing a few sticks of the salty treat to nibble on before handing the container over to her husband. tang bo reached for the food mindlessly, thinking about how nice it'd be to have these with some sweet wine.

ah, but his wife wasn't much of a drinker so that's a bummer.

═══════════════

ONLY CHILD

he should have heard the cries of the baby.

it was quiet inside, and out where he was waiting too. the nurses and maids walked out of the room with buckets of soiled, bloody rags with their heads down and mouths drawn into a thin line — something was wrong, something had gone terribly wrong.

tang bo felt his feet move, walking towards the bedroom where the doors were still shut tightly. he weaved past the attendants trying to hold him back, all telling their young master to go back and wait.

wait? why did he have to wait when he didn't know what was happening to his wife right then? she needed him. and she needed him right now.

the midwife slides the door open just as he was about to open it himself. they both take a step back in surprise.

young master... the lady is alive and well. she is waiting inside.

the older woman bowed and scurried away from the scene to join the others in the courtyard outside.

his wife lay on her back on top of fresh bedsheets and a clean nightgown. she had a sickly pallor, lips were chapped dry with red marks of blood from where the skin ripped open. hair that was riddled with sweat stuck onto the sides of her face, the untied tresses splayed over the top of the bed. her eyes were unfocused and blank, staring straight up at the wall, mind elsewhere. her cheeks were still stained with the remnants of her tears, the evidence of what transpired within these four walls.

wife...

tang bo called out cautiously. she didn't respond, barely even moved an inch to acknowledge his presence.

next to her on the bed was a small swaddle, the stillness of what was supposed to be alive unnerved him. the child's dull skin, probably in some shade of grey, eyes that were never to open, oh.

he sits by her bedside, back facing her. he too, did not know what to say to her at that moment. he was the last person that could have possibly comforted her. well, it was his child too but they were both not lovers so this was an offspring born out of necessity rather than a genuine want. and at this point in his life, tang bo wasn't actually too thrilled about the prospect of fatherhood. not that he would resent that kid, it's just he might not have loved them like he should.

his wife, she's mentioned her anticipation of motherhood but once in a while, he'd catch glimpses of the unreadable expression she had when no one was looking — all while she rubs her growing belly. it made him think that perhaps she wasn't always telling the truth.

once there was a patient who had came to the tang estate to treat the growing tumors in his intestines and since he was a rather important guest, most of the members of the main family, the two of them included, had dropped by to greet him and wish him well for recovery. tang bo could never forget the intensity of her absent gaze at the patient's stomach, her balled fist tightening over her shawl ever so slightly.

perhaps it's good that she's dead.

tang bo feels his eyebrows rise up in shock.

you're not too keen on fathering a child either, are you?

he shakes his head.

well, that makes the two of us. the heavens must be looking out for her, keeping her away from parents like us who can't give her the love she needs.

his wife sighed deeply. her tired face falling to the side to look at him, a lopsided smile making its way onto her lips as if to ease the heavy tension of her words away. she might be right. perhaps, it was better this way. tang bo closes her eyes with his palm, patting her to sleep the way one would with a feverish child.

their daughter would later be the two's first and only child.

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SWORDSMAN

the woman wondered how one-sided her husband's relationship with his friend was. the man was a rather expressionless fellow — his sentences were short, curt and straight to the point. her husband didn't seem to mind, with now he was almost always all over that man. ah well, she's just happy tang bo has an actual friend.

rather than worry that he was drunk off his rocker out on the streets past midnight doing who-knows-what in who-knows-where, at least now he's causing trouble with someone she could easily track. apperently, the man was a troublemaker in his own home too.

the first time she met the older sect brother of her husband's friend, they shared a look of silent understanding. ah, so you too have an oversized child to deal with.

watching tang bo come home staggering on his feet together with the man, leaning on the other for support used to riddle her with worry but now she just ushers them both into a spare room prepped with the necessary herbs to concoct a hangover remedy and hope for the best. her husband was a capable man, he would never let himself falter and die in a ditch.

in hindsight, she might have been too confident in his abilities.

the swordsman was the best thing to have happened to her husband. and it was not an exaggeration by any means. not when he looked at his happiest for the first time since she'd known him. even if they were both past their fifties and sixties.

how nice. she thinks to herself whenever she spots them together. to find your other half, your kindred spirit in this word before you died... it must be nice.

she can't find it in her to be bitter. really.

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FIRST CHIPPING

if he were to look at what society deemed as a bastard husband, then that requisite would have had his face plastered as a prime example. the type of husband that any aspiring groom should not ever become.

though for those who were in the know, mainly his wife and himself, there was more to their marriage than what everyone saw. it didn't take long for either of them to recognise that this union had been a discreet way for them to hide away from what kids like them were supposed to act like in this rigid society.

they've stuck by each other as the only people who would have understood each other the best. so now that tang bo was finally finding the happiness he should have sought after all this time, he was always feeling the guilt of leaving her behind on her own in that house that had always been too big for just the two of them.

she has yet to utter a word of displeasure to him. that's how she was — the quiet one who kept to herself, letting things happen until the worst had passed over. it was one of the little things he detested about his wife.

he can't bring himself to really hate her. there was a time when he had opened up his heart and confided in her about some things he's been scared to come to terms with. the type of realisation one has from a very early age and has buried deep within themselves to fit into society and the expectations people had of him.

his wife had held onto his hand wordlessly, squeezing it ever so often to assure his nerves. he's never been this vulnerable before. he never thought things like this could be so frightening.

she had something to say too. but not right now. this was his moment, she's not so tactless to take it away. she can't stop thinking that if they'd been more honest earlier, then perhaps they wouldn't have hurt the other unknowingly all these years.

the walls they'd built between them were starting to come down a little — who would have thought they'd find out something new after decades of marriage.

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COMING TO TERMS

she couldn't really understand why her husband was loudly crying into her shoulder. her good robes were getting wet from his tears and snot. how did this almost seventy-year-old man have no shred of shame — in front of the attendants no less?

she had given him her blessings earlier today, and he was now free to pursue the swordsman so why was he not going off to sweep his beloved off his feet and ride off into the sunset or whatever those romance novels say?

wife, you know you aren't obligated to be bound to me any more right? if you wish, you are also free to love someone else...

tang bo managed to say between sobs.

...thank you for your consideration.

she hesitated. what did he mean by her being free to love someone else? she can't think of a time when she'd ever felt that kind of emotion, at least not the one that every person around her was chasing after, even back when she was in her youth.

there was always a disconnect whenever the other wives she'd corresponded with ranted and raved about their husband's infidelities or little annoyances. they were always on the verge of hysteria, driven to that point out of love for their husbands they said. and she'd think about how foolish it was.

thank goodness her relationship with tang bo had not been built on a foundation that flimsy. rather, it was one based on mutual respect. which was far better—

ah but. he must have felt trapped in this marriage. not everyone in the world was like her. not everyone had been born with the inability to be like everyone else and it was unfair how they all just instinctively know what romance and lovers-love is. so to have held him back in this loveless situation for this long was a cruel thing.

the good wife, the understanding wife, the kindhearted wife. it's all that she's been the majority of her life. she doesn't know what else there was to her now that she's let-go of these titles. she's free to do what she wants. but what does a caged bird set free know?

she had packed lightly, the clothes on her back were lighter and less showy, the stark opposite of what she used to wear as the daughter-in-law of the tang family. there was not much hesitation as she donned the weimao — it's white veil falling past her knees. she looked at the darkened courtyard of their estate.

she's received enough goodwill in this lifetime. she prayed at the ancestral shrine one last time, asking them to look after everyone now that she's going off.

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MORNING AFTER

tang bo awoke to the frantic bustle of the maids outside his room. turns out his wife had gone missing overnight without anyone noticing. he walked out of his room, wandering around the family estate until he reached the main halls where it was quieter. no one was allowed in here outside of events except for the elders and the main family.

he picks up the tattered note that had fluttered to his feet — eyes widening as he takes in the words written on it.

tch, that woman could still pull some tricks at her old age huh. he didn't think she'd still know how to surprise him. the paper was burned away on a candle flame. he wonders if he'd see his wandering wife on his travels with his taoist-hyung. would they all share a drink at the teahouse when they do? oh he hoped so. there's not much things to look forward to at this age, so at least give him some stories and a meal.

ah. he should let his taoist-hyung know about this too. before it slipped out of that old head of his.