#tw.infidelity

As he grew more focused on his business, he ignored potential suitors until his mother had come to him about seeing a marriage agency. In fact, he still wasn’t interested until his mother invited him out for a dinner one evening with Atsumu in tow. The day ended with both brothers having been set up on dates with women that their mother approved of.

Osamu didn’t have any feelings for his wife, but she was at least able to hold her own job and wasn’t too fond of romantic relations either, with her own mother setting her up on a date with him. To him, it was a business transaction that had hit off within two dates. She was humorous when she wanted to be, she seemed to respect his boundaries, and they settled on only one kid to make their families happy, needing no other romantic interests in each other. It was more like a friendship with a contract. It was a much more peaceful marriage process than Atsumu’s, of which his suitors were never up to his standards, leaving their mother at a loss for words.

You were just a contract. A child that they would care for as emotionlessly as your parents cared for each other. But something changed. Whether it was your first word being his name, your first steps being towards him, or even just him noticing his life was a little less bland and a lot more fun when you were in it, he was grateful for you. His dread of children was washed away when you called out to him and gave him a hug after a long day at work, replaced with happiness of being your father. However, this in turn changed things between him and your mother.

She refused to have you call her mom, mama, or even mother. You only referred to her by her name, showed her respect, as if she was your boss rather than the person who gave birth to you. As you grew older, she seemed to find things to blame you for, always upset at you and even talking in the dead of night about how she wished she could’ve had a son instead. It always hurt, but you were able to handle it when she tossed hurtful comments your way, Osamu being there to comfort you.

But it just caused more arguments as you got older.

Even though you were still in school, you were soon to graduate and hadn’t planned on what to do afterwards like most people your age. Some even planned to stay home for another year to figure things out, but your mother didn’t like that idea for you.

“You’re going to go off to college after you graduate, whether you like it or not! This isn’t up for discussion, [Y/N],” she coldly said, glaring at you from across the room. Sitting at her desk doing work, you hadn’t wanted to talk about this, but she seemed eager to hear your plans.

“But Hikari, it’s common for teenagers to spend time at home before leaving for college now. I don’t even know what I would want to do, so why should I waste my time doing something I don’t love? Dad said—”

“Of course he said something. He always says something to make you feel like you’re worth something, doesn’t he?” She practically spat, fulling turning her chair around to look at you. “Your father owns and works an Onigiri shop, something he knew he’d want to do. I didn’t know what to do in high school, but I still went to college and figured it out, and so shall you. The earlier you’re gone, the better,”

“That’s not what d-” you’re cut off once more.

“I don’t care!” She stood up from her chair, making you back up in fear, only serving to make her lips smirk as she placed her hands on her hips, before the scowl came back. “Your father loves to coddle you, so of course he’d want you around for another year. He’d probably want you around forever, since he’s so fond of you. It makes me wonder how fond,” her eyebrow raises as you take on a look of confusion.

“What do you mean? He’s my father, of course he loves me,”

“Yes, but I’m his wife and the only time he spends with me willingly is at night when it’s time to sleep. I hear you two giggling in your bedroom at night, don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Can’t figure out what to do, so instead you’d sleep with your own father, is that it?”

“How dare you think I’d do that!” You yell back at her, making her recoil in shock. “You may not care for me like a mother, but that doesn’t mean your husband shares the sentiment! He’s trying to make my life easier so I don’t turn out like a wrinkled old bag like you!” You huff, putting your own hands on your hips. “Is that why you had to do an arranged marriage? Because you slept your way to the top and nobody wanted sloppy seconds? Do you only think that he loves me because I have a hole between my legs? You’re disgusting,”

“Me? Disgusting? You just insulted me to my face, called me ugly and a slut all in one! You should be ashamed of your actions and apologize!”

“No, I’m an adult now. I may be young, but I deserve respect, too! Especially from my own mothe-” you’re cut off as the word begins to leave your mouth, a stinging pain in your cheek from where she slapped you.

“Never call me that. I am not your mother and you are not my daughter. You’re nothing more than a little slut who has seduced my husband and is trying to kick me out of my own marriage. Go to your room. I’ll decide which university you’ll be going to when you graduate, and I’ll make sure it’s as far away from here as possible,” she sneers, walking back to her desk as you barely hold back your tears. With no words of confirmation, you quietly run to your room, shutting the door and collapsing on the bed, letting sobs wrack your body.

It was a busy day for Osamu, hardly getting a break to eat his lunch before he could close up. Usually on his breaks, he calls you to see how you’re doing, since he knows your mother can be a hassle when he’s not there, but he didn’t have time today. It’s a surprise for him when he gets home only to be greeted by his wife and not his daughter, who usually welcomes him home. Unenthusiastic about her presence, he gives her a quick peck on the cheek before she can get his lips, moving to put his stuff down. “Where’s [Y/N]? She usually greets me,”

A huff from Hikari tips him off something happened, before she even opens her mouth. “Oh please, that thing has been holed up in her bedroom since she got here. Didn’t even say hello,” she then takes on a more pouty tone, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him into the house. “Don’t worry about it. I made your favorite dinner, nice and hot, so let’s eat,”

“Well, shouldn’t I get my daughter so we can eat together?” Another frown on her face. He knew she hated when you were referred to as his daughter, like he was boldly talking about a mistress rather than his flesh and blood.

“Don’t bother. She’s been in a mood after I told her she’s going to university after she graduates,”

“University? We had previously discussed she could do what she wanted, as she is an adult. You can’t force her,” he tries to explain, rubbing his temple, then looks at her with an accusatory glance. “You just said she didn’t greet you, so how did you two end up arguing?”

“Uh— Arguing is a bit dramatic, isn’t it? I told her what she’ll do and she was stubborn, that’s all.” Rolling her eyes and faking a smile, he wasn’t buying it. “Shouldn’t you be happy your wife is here to greet you and fix you dinner? Don’t worry about her—”

“No, I will worry because I care for her. I’ll be back once I talk to her,” Osamu finally said, pushing his wife away as she tried to lean in for a kiss, leaving her fumbling in the kitchen. He knew she probably did a lot more than just ‘tell you to go to school’ like she said, but he was worried that she pushed you too far.

Opening your bedroom door, the first thing he noticed was hastily put together luggage next to your bed, with what looked to be the shirt he got you for your birthday sticking out of it. Closing the door behind him, he locked it so Hikari wouldn’t bust in unwelcomed as he talked to you. She had a habit of interrupting his conversations with you when she felt jealous. He thought it was absurd that she could think in such a way, as if you were threatening a perfect relationship. He didn’t love her and he’d divorce her but there has never been a good time to do it. Sitting on your bed and seeing the snot on your sleeves and the dried tears on your cheeks made him think that perhaps a good time would be sooner than later.

“Hey, wanna wake up for me?” He whispers, leaning over you. Completely sleeping in bliss, you’re unaware of your surroundings. Sighing and leaning back, he taps on your back and shoulders to see if that will wake you. It’s a method his mom would use to wake him and Atsumu up when they were younger, but it seems like you’re in too deep of a sleep to feel his touches.

The thought that follows that makes him practically hop off the bed, standing beside it as he looks down at you. It’s just an intrusive thought, nothing to think anymore on. He’d never actually consciously think about feeling you up while you’re asleep. That’s… that’s wrong. Not to mention you only recently turned 18, what kind of person would take advantage of that?

Sitting back on the bed, he can only hope you stay asleep as his hand travels from your shoulders down your back, hesitating before moving further down. The way you fell asleep has one leg bent with the other straight, so he keeps his hand going over your ass and between your legs, feeling his pants tighten as he thinks of what’s underneath. It’s wrong on so many levels, but a deep part of him tells him it’s not wrong if nobody knows. Not only that, he loves you more than his own wife, whether it’s familial or not, so he’s not touching you out of ill will. Feeling his body heat up and his mind run rampant at the fact you’re still asleep, he moves your shorts to the side a bit, wiggling two fingers underneath your panties as his other hand unbuttons his own pants. It’s so dirty and wrong, but nobody can disturb this moment and he hasn’t felt real pleasure in so long, desperate to know what you feel like and if he can get away with it.

He backs out almost immediately though, removing his hand as you move, legs moving until you’re groaning, rubbing your nose into your pillow. He’s able to quickly button his pants back up, using his hand that was just against your clit to rub circles on your upper back. “Hey baby, you finally up?”

“Daddy? When— When’d you get here?” Your groggy reply has him mentally sighing in relief. If you seem like you didn’t know what he did to you, then he shouldn’t be worried. Rubbing your eyes, you roll over to face him, slowly sitting up. “I’m sorry I didn’t greet you when you came home, I— I was just tired,”

“Now don’t worry ‘bout not greeting me. I know you were a little more than just tired,” he takes on a soft tone and gently brings his hand up to your cheek, the one he hadn’t seen yet, the one that had a mark blooming on your skin. “What’d she do to you?”

“It— I accidentally called her mom again. We got into an argument,”

“Was that it?”

“At first. She’s jealous that you show me more love than her. She thinks I’m trying to take her place, so I told her that she was wrong. She slapped me because I talked back,” your chest started to heave as you held back sobs, trying to finish talking before the dam completely broke. “I’m starting to think maybe I should finish school living with Uncle ‘Tsumu instead,” more tears plopped onto your twiddling hands. “I don’t wanna be the reason your relationship fails, daddy,”

Little do you know that the gears are already in motion, but Osamu just sighs and tugs you into his chest, letting you cry into his work shirt. “You’re not living with ‘Tsumu. This is my house and if you want to take a year to figure out what you’re doing, then you can stay here. She’s just gonna have to suck it up,”

“Okay,” it comes out almost intelligible, but he understands. He doesn’t know how long he pats your back while you cry in the comfort of his arms, he can only think about what he did and what he was about to do. And what his mind wants him to do. It isn’t until you pull from him does he break out of his trance, looking down at you wiping your cheeks. “Can you do something for me, please?”

When he said yes, he expected plenty of things. Divorce, scolding his wife, even dirty things only he would think about. He didn’t expect the dirty thing to be fucking his own wife, instead of his daughter. “Ah, honey, right there! Don’t stop!” Hikari moans, fingers digging into the pillows as she practically screams out in pleasure. Osamu has barely made any noise, forcing her mouth against the pillows to muffle her moans and screams as he tells her they’re not alone. Even if it was your idea and his wife doesn’t care, he feels dirty sleeping with her instead of you. It almost feels as if he’s cheating, which is a horrible thought he tries to ignore.

Hikari’s squeals make him only roll his eyes, knowing she’s only acting the way because she’s showing off that he’s sleeping with her and not you, which is almost a disgusting thing to think about. She’s jealous of something that doesn’t exist. His love for you was most likely always going to happen, she just doesn’t know that. Even when he’s close to finishing, he has to grit his teeth and close his eyes as he imagines he could be fucking you instead, with your ass bouncing on his cock and your pretty face streaked with tears of pleasure. The small mental image has him pushing over the edge, pulling out of his wife before releasing on the bed below them, rubbing his cock against her pussy as he comes down from his high.

“Wh- Why didn’t you finish inside me?” She whines, pushing her ass against his cock and rubbing. “I want to feel you inside me, ‘Samu,”

“We’re not using protection, so I didn’t want to risk it,” is all he says, chest heaving as he tries to get rid of that image of you in his head. He can’t live his life like this.

“It’s okay, I’m your wife, you know?” She continues to pester him, giggling when he flips her over, only to drop her smile when he practically glares down at her.

“Wife or not, you’re not fit to be a mother. So I’m not going to finish inside you,” is all he says, before getting up and heading into the bathroom, leaving her to pout on the bed. She can clean herself up, it’s not his problem. He may have upset her with that, but it’s what she deserves and what she needed to hear. Coming out of the bathroom, she’s curled up in bed reading a book, ignoring his presence. Struck a nerve indeed, he did, but it’s not his problem, as he decides to watch some TV before bed.

The next day is a day off for Osamu, letting the other workers run the shop while he takes a much deserved break. Waking up alone isn’t something he’s used to, but he doesn’t mind an empty house with no crazy woman to deal with. Well, mostly empty. You’re still here, since you don’t have school today, so he thinks maybe today can be a day where you two just hang out without worrying about third parties interfering. Getting up to get his morning coffee, he doesn’t expect to see you up already, in the hallway, exiting the bathroom.

His only thought was that he knew your body would be beautiful bare in front of him. The thoughts of you calling his name while creaming around his cock come flooding back in, his eyes unable to stop from roaming your curves and using his imagination to place what’s under your hands and arm. It’s only when you gasp, profusely apologize, and run into your room, does he actually break from his trance. Now not only is he sporting a hard boner now, but he did so by looking at you, his daughter’s, naked body. To add more salt, you were aware of the situation.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running his hand down his face. He didn’t think you’d be up for a daddy-daughter date this afternoon, anymore.

On your end, you were so stunned from everything that happened, the only thing you could do was lean against your closed door, hands covering your breasts as everything processed. You had expected an empty house, waking up to complete silence as you figured out what you were going to do. Starting your day with a shower, you didn’t bother bringing any clothes because of the supposedly empty house, which ended up being the mistake that made everything weird.

Your whole body felt hot as you put on a big t-shirt, coming down to your mid-thigh, mind running laps as you processed how Osamu, your father, reacted to your naked body. Was your mother right to worry? Was he actually attracted to you— at least your body? The thin material of his sweatpants made his cock look so big, it made your insides warm thinking about it. Even as you pull on a pair of panties, you can feel yourself wet from the sight of him getting aroused. It felt so dirty, but you just couldn’t help it.

Laying down on your bed, you spread your legs and slid your hand under your panties. You may have just taken a shower, but you had to deal with these urges or else suffer taboo thoughts for the rest of the day. Plus your thoughts were completely private, nobody knew of them, so it wouldn’t hurt to spend some time thinking of dirty things. You couldn’t help thinking about last night, how your mother was screaming in pleasure, even though it was disgusting, but if his cock was as big as you thought it was, you couldn’t help it. Thinking of you in that position, laying underneath Osamu as his cock ruts against your most sensitive areas, making you see stars. Unlike those fleeting boy crushes, he was an experienced man who probably knows his way around a woman, able to easily make you finish within minutes.

However you saw him yesterday has completely changed, your body craving his touch and his body after catching a glimpse of a boner from him. It makes you feel so dirty thinking of him that way, but a part of you wonders if it’s only normal? Not because of what you saw, but he’s always been there for you, loving you with no conditions contrary to Hikari, so it only makes sense that you’d end up feeling this way, right? Only serving to feed into your delusions, your fingers work faster against your clit, tiring out your arm until you’re seeing stars and biting down on your t-shirt, toes curling as you finally reach the end you were striving for. Instead of thinking those thoughts are horrible in your post-bliss, they only serve to make you want more.

No, this is wrong. You need to apologize.

There’s nothing else about it. You don’t need to be on eggshells around Osamu, that’d only serve in making your mother suspicious something is up. Plus, you don’t need your only security net in this dysfunctional family gone. With a set goal in mind, you wipe off the juices from your hand and leave the room, expecting him to be in the kitchen. Is it forgetfulness and comfortability that has you in only a long t-shirt and panties? Or is it the fact that maybe, just maybe, you want those fantasies to not only be fantasies? Telling yourself the former, you walk into the kitchen to see nobody there. Peaking into the living room, the house almost seems empty. Thinking perhaps he’s too embarrassed to even possibly be around you now, you accept defeat and trudge back to your room, only to stop in front of your door.

You don’t know whether it’s wishful thinking or simple coincidence, but you notice the master bedroom door is cracked open, hardly enough to see inside, but enough that the sounds from inside aren’t as well muffled as they should be. Curiosity has never urged you closer to the door than in this moment, finding your breathing shaky as you listen to the moans and groans inside the room. Is he.. Is he touching himself? To the brief image of your mostly naked body? The thought makes your stomach warm, thighs squeezing together as you’re faced with a choice to either open the door or go back to your room. Nothing can ever go back to the way it was, but crossing the threshold could mean the end for many things, as well as the beginning of many.

Creaking the door open, you expect Osamu to turn around, looking in the doorway to your slightly shaking frame, instead he doesn’t stop, never faltering. The well lit room hides nothing, your eyes landing on the pink panties you just threw in the hamper in his hand, pushed up to his nose. His other hand is wrapped around his cock, pumping away as his arm flexes with each pump. The thought of him sniffing your dirty laundry so shamelessly has arousal building in your lower stomach, making your panties even wetter than before. You two can never go back to how you were before, but a part of you is okay with that.

Completely lost in a fantasy world, Osamu doesn’t even notice you’ve opened his door. He did intentionally leave the door open a crack, just to see if you came out of your room or even if you were just like him, but it backfired when he completely ignored the creaking of the door. Head filled with a lusty haze and the image of your naked body, more fleshed out, bouncing on his cock had his hand moving faster as he sniffed your dirty panties. He shouldn’t be doing something so shameful, but he just can’t help how you make him feel. It isn’t until the door is shut does he realize someone’s seen him. Using your panties to cover his obviously hard cock, he turns to see you leaning against the door, feet shifting as your thighs rub together.

He can’t even get out any words, too stunned, seeing you push yourself off the door as you sway, hands gripping the edges of your shirt — one he gave you years ago after you had a nightmare. “It’s not very nice to go stealing my underwear, you know?” Your voice is so sweet to him, but it breaks his trance as guilt and regret fills his body. That is, until his eyes watch as one of your hands pulls up the shirt, your other one going between your legs and rubbing against your pussy. The same one he’s been dreaming about since he almost touched it. “If you want, I could give you the pair I’m wearing, instead,” your breath becomes shaky, but you keep going. Sliding them off, you barely manage to get your legs out of them before he’s sweeping you off of your feet, lips pressed against yours with a passion he hasn’t given to anyone.

Osamu can hardly believe it when you begin to kiss him back, hand coming behind his head before he sets you back down, breaking the kiss. “You know I’m gonna do more than take your panties, right? Is that what you want?” Leaning away from you, he sees the wavering determination in your eyes and has a dreading feeling you’ll back out, make it so he chases you until you’re out of his sight, but instead you simply wrap your damp panties around his cock, making him bite his lip. You were so wet, touching yourself to your own dirty father touching himself to you.

“Yes, daddy. I want this, if you’d have me,” your answer is swiftly met with a kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist as he brings you to the bed. A silly sentence to say, he thinks, finally letting his hand sink between your legs where he has been dying to touch. It’s all he’s wanted for the past day, thinking of you and your sweetness in every waking thought. He doesn’t want to take off the shirt, finding it as a claim to your body as he simply pulls it up to gaze upon your breasts. Always a giver and less of a taker, he doesn’t wait in putting his lips on your skin, letting his tongue taste you. “W-wait, they’re sensi-ti-” your gasps only have him putting in more effort on your nipples, rolling one of them between his teeth as he uses his other hand to rub and tweak the other one. Using both of his hands to massage your breasts, he presses open mouthed kisses all over them, sucking on the skin before moving his mouth lower.

With his mouth right in front of your pussy, he isn’t surprised when your legs try to close up, him having to press kisses to your thighs to make you relax. “It’ll be okay, don’t worry, baby,”

“But— isn’t the taste weird? What if you don’t like it?” Your question is so innocent, but it tells him all he needs to know about you. Taking your virginity only serves to make his cock bob in anticipation, eager to take it. Chuckling, he pulls your up so you’re practically folded in half, your pussy completely on display for him.

“Any man who doesn’t give as much as he takes isn’t worth your time. And your daddy will always be worth your time,” he simply says, pressing a kiss to your folds before diving between them. He’s waited long enough to touch your most sensitive area, he’s not gonna wait to taste it, as well. Plus, your squeals under him have his cock throbbing at what’s to come. If his mouth brings you this much pleasure, that you’re tightening your grip on the hem of your shirt, only to move to grabbing your breasts, trying to ground yourself, he can’t wait to see how you react to his cock inside of you.

Kissing, licking, and flicking his tongue against your clit and slurping up any juices has you seeing stars, toes curling as your eyes roll at the feeling of your high washing over you. Your body feels so tingly and sensitive that you can’t help but twitch as Osamu sets you down, rubbing his cock against you. Worried about being able to take him well, you feel your face get hot as you watch him rubbing his cock against your soaking wet pussy, sighs of satisfaction as he does.

Pushing your legs back, he finally lines himself up as you watch, waiting for something to happen. “You sure you want this? You can still back out,”

“I’m positive.” Even going as far as to spread your folds, rubbing your middle finger against your clit, you show him as well as tell. “I want you to be my first, daddy. I want you to fill me up,”

Even if he had planned on using protection, your sudden declaration of him filling you up would make him not want to. It’s not that he wants you pregnant, but rather he wants you to feel all of him and he wants to feel all of you. With a nod, he pushes into your tiny hole and has to practically hold his breath from busting on the spot, with your walls squeezing him so much. “Relax, princess. We got time,” he shushes, moving down to press kisses to your face and neck. Feeling him gently rock himself into you, you were able to relax and let him move in even more, stretching your hole more as your velvety walls spasmed around him, trying to milk him. “Fuck,” he groaned, then finished sheathing himself all the way, making you mewl from the sudden thrust.

You felt completely full, as if he was everywhere and anywhere in the moment. His hips began moving, starting off slow that would have his cock rubbing against your sensitive walls and feeling his balls flush against your ass. Increasing his speed, you had to dig your nails into his shoulders as you held on, having his move so fast that your body rocked with each thrust, juices gushing out of you. His cock was covered in your juices and his own precum, coating the outside of your cunt and dripping down his balls.

“You gonna take it?” He suddenly groans, making you open your eyes and look at his sweat covered face. “You gonna take all my cum like a good girl? Let me fill you up? That’s what you want, right?” A nod from you is all you can muster, but he moves your leg into the crook of his elbow, freeing his hand to squish your cheeks together so you face him. “I wanna hear you say it,”

“Yes, daddy!” You slur, sticking out your tongue as you feel the beginning of his load empty out inside of you. “Fill me all the way up, please!” The last part of the sentence comes out of grit teeth, as your back arches and your eyes roll back. It’s so pleasureful, feeling a heavy load fill your walls that you can’t help but let yourself completely go, spraying watery juices all over Osamu’s abdomen, dripping down onto his sweatpants.

Osamu can’t believe his eyes, truly. Watching you come undone on his cock is even better than he could have imagined, as he way he’s your body twitch and feels your walls spastically gush around him makes him even harder inside of you. Making you squirt, however? Just from filling you up with a load of cum? Fuck, he doesn’t even let you enter a post-bliss state, worried you’d want to stop when he’s only getting his engines warm. You can barely refute him as he starts fucking into you again, pushing his cum out of your little cunt with each thrust. He’s gonna fuck every pent up load into you all before his stupid wife gets home.

For the rest of the day, Osamu has you trying out different positions all just to hear you scream and mewl underneath him, telling him how good it feels when he fucks you like an animal starved. It makes him feel good to have someone actually love him, wanting him to feel just as good as he makes them. Whether it’s you putting in the work to bounce on his cock so he can grab and play with your bouncing breasts or you on your knees in front of him and his cock on your tongue, you don’t want him doing all the work and doing all the giving. He makes sure to clean you up, too, wiping down the sweat from your body and the copious amount of cum dribbling out of your abused cunt. It isn’t until Hikari pulls up do you two separate, you going to do homework while he watches TV. None the wiser than she was yesterday, Osamu can’t help but smile when she passes by him, letting her kiss him on the lips moments after he made you cum on his tongue.

Each day is a day full of giggles with a game of secrecy. How long until Hikari actually catches you two? How long can you two spend together behind closed doors before it’s suspicious? You get better at muffling and holding back your moans and Osamu gets better at not ogling you whenever you two aren’t alone. Spending time in your room doing ‘homework’, Osamu brings you your dinner and even helps you with some stuff, all while Hikari sits in her little office typing away, ignorant of your bed creaking in time with his thrusts. Whenever she has a long day of work, she takes a long bath and you end up on Osamu’s lap in the living room, bouncing on his cock while a movie plays to cover your mewls and his groans.

It isn’t until after you graduate does the secret get out.

Working at Onigiri Miya on the surface was a job that would keep you close to Osamu and stay at home, making Hikari annoyed that you’re still in the picture. Threatening a divorce if she tried to send you off to a college without your consent, you were free to live at home and work with your father, having more than familial moments in the back of the shop when everyone else went home. It gave you both room to spend together without worrying about someone finding out by seeing you laying on a table with your legs on Osamu’s shoulders.

“I swear, the spicy tuna onigiri brings good luck!” Atsumu swears, taking a bite of the good food.

“I think it’s just wishful thinking, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu says back, rolling his eyes. You’re off handing other customers their orders, but you can’t help but giggle at the conversation between your dad and uncle.

“If Aran was here, he’d agree!”

“Nah, Aran likes the crispy seaweed onigiri. Told me himself,” Osamu shoots back, not batting an eye.

“No he didn’t, he’s been busy,”

“He stops by every once in a while. Maybe he just doesn’t let you know when he’s in the area,”

“Are you trying to insinuate something?”

“Okay, you two,” you butt in, handing another order of spicy tuna to Atsumu, “no need to fight when we got other customers.”

“What about you? Do you agree, doll?” Atsumu asks, giving you one of those girl-swooning smiles.

“Actually, I don’t have a favorite, so I don’t think any are more lucky or special than the others. They all taste good, so that’s what matters,” you shrug, making Atsumu’s smile fall.

“You’d say anything to not be on my side, wouldn’t you?”

“Not completely true,” you then sigh, then nod. “But yes,”

“I’m being ganged up on, here,”

“Food’s food, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu says, rolling his eyes.

Atsumu stayed at least until closing, talking about old school stuff and his team with volleyball. Most of their old friends had retired, living a comfortable life and meeting up every once in a while to catch up. Atsumu had only recently retired, so he spent most of his free time chowing down on food Osamu made for him. Waving goodbye to him, you could only sigh as you switched the sign to close and turned off the neon sign, signaling the end of your shift. Well, at least until Osamu tugs you into his chest and kisses you on the head.

“Tired again, huh?” You giggle when he only sighs. “Should I close up by myself, then?”

“Not a chance. Get yourself in the kitchen,”

It isn’t long until you’re in the same position you were in yesterday, one leg bent and held up by his arm while he rams his cock into your cunt, heavy moans coming from your lips with each pump. Resting your head on the counter, your fingers run down the surface as drool spills from your lips, keeping your focus on not having the one leg on the ground buckle. With his one arm holding up your leg and his hand resting against your side, his other hand pushes pieces of onigiri into your mouth, keeping it in your mouth so you don’t spit it out. Moaning, you lick the excess rice from his fingers and suck on them, bringing him to his release and filling you up. Pulling out, he lets the excess run out and puddle on the floor before pushing back in, making more squeeze out, going for another round and only focusing on you.

Atsumu couldn’t believe it. He dropped his wallet when he was eating, probably just slipped out of his pocket. He should’ve double checked before leaving the restaurant, as this has happened before when he doesn’t wear a coat. With the warm nights that spring brings, he hasn’t bothered with wearing a jacket, but he might have to so he stops accidentally losing things. Even though the store says it’s closed, he tries the door and finds it’s unlocked, making him confused, but still going inside. Though, he immediately forgets why he was there when he hears the moans and groans echoing in the empty shop. The only two workers when he left would’ve been ‘Samu and you, so he’s confused as to why he hears those noises. Going around the counter and looking into the kitchen, he can’t take his eyes off the display he sees.

Osamu, his brother, is fucking you on the counter in his shop after hours. If he’d had known this is what he was missing out on, he’d have left his wallet behind on purpose long before now. Completely ignored by the two of you, he just watches as your eyes roll and leg twitches as Osamu pumps a load into your cunt, pulling out to smear some of it on your pussy like he’s claiming it. Atsumu doesn’t know if he’s upset you two didn’t tell him about such a juicy secret or if he’s upset he didn’t get to lay claim on his pretty little niece first. Clearing his throat and knocking on the wall, he makes his presence known.

Covering your chest and looking away is the reaction he expected from you, but Osamu just stares at him like he’s expecting something. “Did you need something? Or you just being a pervert?”

“A pervert? I should be calling you that, ‘Samu. Screwing your own daughter? Does your wife know?”

The answer Osamu gave wasn't necessarily unexpected, but the tone of which he chose made Atsumu's eyes widen with surprise. “I don't care what that old hag thinks. If you're so bent on spilling our little secret, it's not going to change much of anything,”

“Your whole life could be ruined if I told your wife, you know? Really going to let me spill the beans on you?” Atsumu asks, but he wouldn't dare tell. Especially not if Osamu lets him have a taste. Even now, you're all curled up and covering yourself as if your dearest father's cock is currently buried inside of you, like you can keep any more of your innocence from him.

“I know you better than that, 'Tsumu. We've always had each other's backs, why would that change now?” He simply states, even rocking his hips into you that has your leg twitching, your harsh whispers of telling him not now. Atsumu can't help but laugh, nodding and getting closer to the two of you.

“You're right, I wouldn't snitch. Although, it's a bit sad you didn't let me know before. Too scared I'd take her away from you?”

“As if,” Osamu scoffs, his thumb rubbing your clit, making you twitch and mewl. The sight of you makes Atsumu's cock twitch, his jeans getting tighter with each noise. “Nothing can beat our first time together. You're welcome to try, but I doubt it,”

“Well, then I can't back down, can I?” Atsumu gives off simple smile, but his mind is full of nothing but dirty, disgusting thoughts of what he could do to you. Of course, Osamu pulling his cock out to let his previous loads drip from your cunt reminds him you're still owned by someone else, but Atsumu will take sloppy seconds this time. Watching as Atsumu unzips his jeans has you scrambling to move, unsure of what's about to happen.

“Wait, Uncle 'Tsumu—”

“Don't worry, doll. You trust you dear old daddy, don't you?” A nod from you. “He wouldn't let me near you if he didn't trust me. No need to worry 'bout a thing,” Atsumu pecks your lips, looking to see Osamu has backed off completely. You're pulled off of the counter, legs wobbly as you hold onto Atsumu as he picks you up. Osamu may have strength leftover from his volleyball days, but Atsumu is stronger, able to easily lift you onto where his hard cock is waiting for your drooling pussy.

Osamu finds himself on a stool, stroking his cock and spreading your leftover juices all over the skin. “It'll be alright, princess. Daddy's right here, just let your uncle have a taste, okay?”

“Okay, daddy,” your voice is so innocent, so sweet, Atsumu can't hold back, pulling your hips flush against his, groaning at the squeeze you immediately give him.

“Oh, fuck,” he swears, immediately setting into a rhythm of you bouncing on his cock while he holds you up. The sheer strength of him keeping you up combined with the sensitivity from Osamu has you creaming on his cock, making him curse again. He's never been more thankful for leaving his wallet, letting him have the opportunity to feel a nice, young cunt squeezing him again. “Finishing so soon? I just got started,”

“‘ish gooood~” you slur, tongue hanging out as you dig your nails into his shoulders and your legs tighten and twitch in his hold. Your fucked out expression and the consistent string of moans from your lips has him thinking you really are like a doll, just a gummy little hole for him to fuck.

It's not long until he feels juices to gush from your pussy, dripping down and staining his jeans as his balls slap against your ass, making an echoing sound in the kitchen as your moans join it. The brothers keep their moans to a minimum, Atsumu occasionally looking over to see milky fluid dribbling down Osamu's cock and his hand, chuckling at how much of a degenerate his brother is. Feeling your walls squeeze around him once more, he gives a few harsh thrusts up into your cunt before spilling his load into you, moaning at the feeling of you milking his cock.

It's the last orgasm you could have of the night, your body limp in Atsumu's arms as he sets you on the counter, letting his cum ooze out of your abused cunt and onto it. “Think I can have her for the night?” Atsumu suddenly asks, getting his breath back. Osamu sends him a glare, but he brushes it off. “Come on, I promise I'll give her back. One night, and I'll keep your dirty little secret.”

Osamu agrees, letting his brother take your unconscious body home, as you had fallen asleep from your last orgasm. He worries what Atsumu would do to you, but he also knows he can trust him to not hurt you. The only problem is going home to Hikari, who seems elated that Atsumu picked you up from the shop and you decided to spend the night at his house, eager to get her hands on Osamu and spend all her time with him. He regrets not having you there that night, but you were delivered safe and sound the next day, stuffed full of your uncle's cum and a toy keeping it all in.

It started a new thing for Osamu and you to enjoy doing, having your body shared between your father and your uncle, with both of them cleaning you up at the end of it. Atsumu had something to do with his free time and he also provided an easy alibi to give to Hikari whenever she wondered why you two weren't at the house. Why, all she needed to hear was that you went out with friends and Osamu's hanging out with him and some other alumni from Inarizaki, easing her worries. She doesn't need to know the friends you're with are the same people Osamu's hanging out with, the same people who are having a taste of you on their cocks and their tongues. The quickies from before are replaced by actual time spent between the two of you, maybe adding in a third or a fourth, but it ends with you happy and him even happier.

Truly, nothing could ruin this blissful atmosphere he's created with you. Not even the baggage that thought he still loved her could tear you two apart. It was only a matter of time before she realized that he had found love in someone else, someone who she despised. He fell in love with everything Hikari isn’t, she just didn’t know it yet.

When Hikari tells him about her business sending her out of the country for a week, he could hardly contain his joy. As emotionless as he could muster, he congratulated her on her promotion and offered to even help her pack for the trip. It was just a small business venture and she said she’d call him every night to let him know she was alright, but he could honestly care less. Watching her fill a suitcase the night before her flight reminded him of how she tried to send you away from him and how he dearly wished Hikari would be sent away from him for good. It just gave you two the freedom to dirty every surface in the house without worry.

Whether he was bending you over the back of the couch while you watched your favorite show or making you cockwarm him so he could read the newspaper, he made sure you were always close by and always dressed for him. Skirts and no panties, draped in his shirts with lacy panties that hid nothing, a cute sweater and loose shorts paired with thigh highs, anything that gave him easy access or that he liked seeing you in was fair game. Even Atsumu and your ‘little’ friends would come over, spreading your holes wide open and drenching your prettiest clothes and your pretty face in their cum, painting your body with load after load. Nothing was better for you, having your father love your body and show it off to his friends and hearing their compliments. It was a twisted way of thinking, but you were well past the point of no return, rather accepting their compliments with an open mouth and a dripping pussy.

Every night had you ending it in someone’s lap, cock still inside as your working cunt milked every last drop of them. Osamu always made sure to clean you up, tucking you in his bed as he joined you, kissing you goodnight as you peacefully slept. The minutes turned to hours and the hours turned to days and before you knew it, the week was up and you two were so lost in each other’s touch all week, you didn’t even register that your time alone together was drawing to a close. With minds only focused on each other, it was no surprise the two of you couldn’t hear the phone ringing nor when a car had pulled up the front of the house. Even the door being knocked on and unlocked went unnoticed, lips locked as Osamu rocked his cock deeper inside of you, making sure your sensitive walls felt every single rub against them.

He heard the gasp before you did, a bag dropping on the floor in shock as he looked up from your body, seeing Hikari, his wife, in the hallway across from him. It wasn’t horror on her face, just rage and jealousy as she watched him rock his cock into your warm cunt. Grabbing your hair and tugging your head back, he made sure your scream of pleasure had no muffles as your high hit, toes curling and legs tightening around his neck as he brought his lips to yours, finally muffling the screams. A few more pumps of his cock into your gushing cunt had him finishing inside, a low moan as he licked your lips, giving you another kiss that had you two swapping spit.

“Osamu, how dare—!” Hikari was cut off by Atsumu, dressed in nothing but a towel covering his lower half exiting the bathroom, tutting at her.

“Should’ve stayed wherever you went, lady. You’ve been replaced,” he grinned, practically pushing her out of the house. She could smell the alcohol on him, meaning he was drinking. In her house.

“How dare that slu-”

“Oh, shove it. Go find some young cock to suck, hag,” he sneered, pushing her outside the door as she gasped, stumbling. He waved and smiled as he shut the door, making sure the locking of it was audible enough for her to hear. Whistling and dusting off his hands, walking over to where Osamu had his mouth buried between your thighs as your fingers dig into his scalp. “Don’t forget to leave some for me,”

At his request, Osamu gets off your clit with a loud ‘pop’ noise, lapping at the excess around your pussy, letting Atsumu kneel down and get his tongue in your messy cunt, slurping up his brother’s cum and your juices. Feeling your hand come to the back of his head, he only smirked as he suckled on your clit, pushing two fingers into your cunt while Osamu removed himself from your lower area. Moving up to your mouth, you eagerly stuck out your tongue to welcome his hard cock in your mouth, moaning around the appendage as you made sure to slurp any cum coating it.

One thing the two of them could agree on, is that you’re a damn treasure they enjoy and nobody will stand in their way.

you're betrothed, you shouldn't want him the way you want him, but you do. something about him begs a closeness that you crave so intensely. you find your discipline slipping every time he comes near.

maybe it's his demigod qualities, that air about him that is so reminiscent of his father, or perhaps it's just him. the slick smile, the strange, dream-like features which you find so beautiful, his knowing and low-lidded eyes. his features are pleasant to you, something beyond beauty that toes into ethereal. you find him magnetizing and your good sense leaves you like how it does when you're fevered.

satori kneels in front of you now, peering up at you as he pushes the fabric of your dress up your thighs. his hands slide up the soft flesh with hardly enough pressure to make the skin dip, until his fingers rest at the crux of your thigh and hip. you shudder, swallowing down that hypnotic, drug-like feeling he brings with him.

"come closer," he breathes, warm breath fanning against your knees.

you oblige him, shifting your hips forward so that your lower back rests against the edge of the table and your cunt sits just in front of his face. he smiles at you. it's a slick sort of smile, filled with all the confidence a demigod should have. the light from the candle on the table dances across his features and you instinctively reach to touch the top of his head, lightly pulling him away from where his mouth was about to make contact with you.

"i'm engaged," you say softly, a gentle urge for your sense.

"doesn't matter," satori shakes his head, leaning it against the inside of your knee. "let me touch you."

his fingers dance along the crease of your thigh.

"i'll marry you instead," he promises with a grin.

"liar," you say softly, but there's a fondness to it, something indicative of your connection to him.

satori rises to his feet and steps between your legs. he leans over you and you feel the way the fabric of his pants feel against the flesh of your soft inner thighs. he smiles lightly and tilts your chin up with his hand. satori kisses you.

it's gentle and when you part your lips to let him in, you can taste the faint bitterness of honeyed wine. a soft, comforting flavor on his mouth that lulls you into a familiar sense of inebration. his tongue snakes into your mouth, licking lightly at your own. you whine when he parts from you, almost like he's a drug. a steady drip of nectar from an almost empty cup.

you feel the imbalance of what he does to you. the sense that his god-like abilities make you want him this way. you shiver as he places his palms on your bare thighs again, slowly shoveling up your skirt and sinking back down to his knees.

"you're wet," he says lightly as he looks at you again, his lips curling up.

your face heats violently and you gasp as he presses a finger to your cunt and rubs one quick circle.

his eyes flick back up to you and you find that his are glazed over. you think the look probably mirrors your own and you swallow down guilt as he licks the inside of your thigh before placing a kiss right at the crest of your sex.

satori let's his tongue roam over your clit lightly. it's slow at first, a sleepy sort of exploration that feels good, but not good enough. your breathing picks up as satori lets himself taste you, his honey-like breath dampening the skin of your thighs. you exhale shakily and satori takes that as a cue to continue.

he sucks at you, letting his tongue play with your sensitive clit. it's the first time anyone has touched you this way and you're overwhelmed at the feel of it. slippery pleasure that you can't hold nor control. you shudder.

his fingers tighten their grip on your thighs, making the skin dip, as he picks up his pace on you. his hands hold your thighs apart, squeezing and pinching at the flesh as he gathers you closer, collecting you on his tongue. you whimper, feeling an unfamiliar and steady swell at the base of your stomach.

he hums into you, teasing and sleepy, and as you peer over the fabric of your bunched-up dress, you can make out a smile in his eyes and cheeks. like he's amused by you, by your susceptibility to him. you briefly wonder if you'll ever feel anything like this again. something so hypnotizing and so deeply surreal that it feels dream-like.

you shudder as your stomach tightens, crying out instinctively as a threatening wave of pleasure crests and recedes.

"sh, sh, sh," he hums, sliding his finger into you. "you've never been with anyone before, have you?"

you swallow, furrowing your eyebrows as you shake your head. satori curls his finger up.

"all you have to do is let go, you know?" he says lightly.

satori reaches up and presses lightly on your stomach.

"in here," he says, his finger continuing inside of you. "come on..."

he drags his words out, tempting a mad fever in you that makes your legs shake.

"i-" you choke. he hasn't put his mouth back on you yet and you're teetering precariously at that edge.

"why go without?" he says lightly, kissing the inside of your thigh. "i'm not going to tell anyone. just let go. give in a little."

his voice sounds fevered and his words slur lightly with his own eagerness. you can see the excitement in his eyes. a curious sort of glint that mixes pleasantly with the arousal painted on his face. there's fondness there. somewhere in his expression you can see it. a genuine type of care. his words hit like charmspeak and your whole body begins to tremble as he puts his mouth back onto you.

satori's lips move quicker this time, sucking harshly at your clit as his finger moves inside of you. your thighs twitch and you reach to root your fingers into his hair at the sudden swell of pleasure, knocking over the burning candle. it clamors to the floor before going out and satori laughs a little at the way you don't seem to notice.

it's like you're drunk, high up in some other kind of existence. your head is full of honeyed wine. it's like you can feel your thoughts swishing around, but can make no sense of it.

satori spits on your cunt. vulgar. it's disgusting. you whimper and pull him close to you, your stomach turning and swelling before you hit your climax.

you tilt your head back, pushing satori's face into you as he continues to suck at your clit. it becomes too much too quickly and you cry out in a quick, high pitched burst as you become overstimulated. it hurts in a way that drives you mad. a hedonistic sort of feeling from indulging in too much of a good thing.

satori doesn't stop and your voice comes out hoarse as you plead, meaninglessly, for a quick break. you build again, faster this time. blinding pressure crowds your abdomen and satori groans as you tremble and cum again. liquid spreads across the inside of your thighs, like water, and drips onto the floor. then, he slows the movement of his tongue and your head fills with syrup.

you become quickly exhausted, your knees trembling as you lean against the table and struggle to hold yourself up. satori sits back on his legs before standing up and resuming his position between them, letting you rest some of your weight on him to ease the burden.

“Y/N, are you ready for your results?”

You hated hospitals. You hated the antiseptic smell that lingered through the air, spanning a good portion of the hallways that never allowed you an escape from the miasma of alcohol that hung around the establishment. You hated the harsh fluorescent lighting and the neutral colors that accentuated the stark room with a sterile and uninviting surrounding. You hated the dissonant sounds of the machines, the general cacophony from the staff, the flash of people in white garments—everything about the hospital attracted your repressed anxiety.

The olfaction was the worst of them all because it was omnipresent and it triggered the unwanted, not even nostalgic, memories that you have spent years wanting to escape from.

It has been a decade since you lost your mom. A period of ten years where life hasn’t been the same for you—from shutting yourself out from the world, eventually cutting people off, to losing the motivation to pursue your dreams—you never thought that a person’s death could carry this much anguish in your heart. You shared your mother’s throes for when she was in the median between life and death, remembering how her frail hands held yours in her last moments, staring at your face with a breather covering her mouth. You watched her die before your eyes while knowing that you were the last person she saw before she departed from her physical body.

You watched how people eventually moved on with their lives, only a week since your mom’s funeral rites as though it was easy to forget a person who once existed to bring joy and comfort for those around her. Death was inevitable and that was not something you could deny because life was an endless cycle of birth, death, and reincarnation. However, even as the person transcends to the afterlife, what would remain after their death was the infliction of pain for the ones left behind.

And that pain was truly of the worst kind.

“Y/N?”

Cutting out of your trance, you met Dr. Mori’s deep russet eyes with a suppressed sigh. “Yes, doc.”

In his hand was a copy of your electrocardiogram that he squinted at behind his thick framed glasses. “Based on your ECG, it seems that you have developed what we call an Angina Pectoris,” he carefully revealed, gauging on your reaction as he spoke, “we also refer to it as Stable Angina. Are you familiar with that?”

Your nod was hesitant but rueful withal. Because of the unbearable chest pain that you’ve had back in Bora Bora, you suspected that something about your heart was not functioning right anymore and you knew that you were bound to be destroyed by another devastating news that did not root from your husband’s mistreatment this time. His words and actions were painful, but discovering about your illness was excruciating. “So I have a serious heart condition?” your lips quivered as you asked. Your face, pallor. Void of any other color but ashen hue.

“It’s not life threatening yet,” he quickly clarified as if to console you from the anxiety that was building inside, “but it could be detrimental if you don’t take good care of your heart. In your case, you experience episodes of squeezing, pressure, or tightness in the chest area because the blockage in your arteries hinders blood from flowing through your heart. You are at a high risk factor for coronary artery disease so I’m gonna have to put you on strict medications to prevent that.”

As much as the news sucked the life out of you, your initial reaction was to be completely numb. You were already deadened inside after all the things that you’ve had to go through for the past week and learning about your illness was the icing on the cake. You were on the brink of losing your sanity. Truly, how could life be so cruel? How could the universe offer you nothing but endless torment? All this suffering had you starting to believe that you might have been a terrible person in your past life and you were paying the price in this lifetime.

“Any family members that have had similar heart-related problems before?” The doctor was writing down on a pad of paper, jotting down any necessary information that he could get from your medical history.

You held it together for your sake, but you could see that the man sympathized with his patient beyond his sworn obligation. “My mom.” The hammering feeling returned to your chest just by answering the doctor’s question. “She died because of her heart disease about ten years ago.”

“Ah, so it’s hereditary,” he hummed, the ticking of the clock was louder than his voice. “That’s one of the risk factors, but it could also root from extreme physical activities or severe emotional stress. Since you have a weak vessel, those aforementioned can narrow your arteries and trigger angina. Is there anything that’s been stressing you out lately?”

You almost wanted to laugh. Bitterly. Spitefully.

Why on Earth did you always have to be on the losing side? How could your husband sleep peacefully at night while you always had to wake up facing a new plight? If you were going to answer the doctor’s question, Satoru Gojou was the sole reason for your stress. Heartache. Sorrow. The man you called your husband, the same man who threw his ring on the ocean without sympathy for the wife that sacrificed her fears just to search for it—he was responsible for the permanent damages on your heart. But even then, you could not blame him.

He was not at fault that you lived with a frail heart to begin with. He was not at fault for lashing out at you after you uttered hurtful things about his mom. These things were beyond his control and he was completely unaware of the byproduct that came forth from your failed marriage.

“There were some things that have been stressful,” you admitted, doleful eyes glued on the hourglass sitting atop the table. “Is it possible to reverse my condition?”

A yes was what you hoped for, but a no was what reality brought back to you.

“Angina is irreversible. There is no immediate cure for it but that’s why you need to change your lifestyle and take medications to prevent it from becoming worse. You’re in the early stages so there’s no need to place too much stress on yourself, alright?” Dr. Mori offered a comforting albeit professional smile as he saw the despondency in your mien. “My best advice is for you to detach yourself from the primary cause of your stress. It could be a lifesaver.”

Detachment—something that you should have done long ago instead of pathetically fooling yourself thinking that your marital gaps could be fixed by filling up the empty spaces. It was distressing to know that all your time and effort into making your marriage work would be thrown to waste, but you had to do things for your sake and not his anymore.

This marriage was your downfall and you ought to save yourself before it could kill you. Literally.

Somehow, you found it surprising how you were able to gather yourself together despite finding out about the dreadful news. To know that you might end up six feet under and be forgotten in this world like your mom did was an experience that left blisters on your heart. Was it depressing? It would definitely catch up to you within the next few days, but for now, you carried the heavy weight on your slumped shoulders as you listened to your doctor’s next instructions with a lifeless look on your face. Medications, diet, and avoidance towards stress. He spent the next thirty minutes yapping about the do’s and don'ts that were crucial to your heart’s condition while you sat there trying to hold it all together.

By the time you left his clinic, you were no longer all too stunned when you happened to bump into Dr. Shoko Ieiri from the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology who was immediately pulling you inside of her office with a troubled expression on her pale face. It had been a week since you came home from the traumatic trip, ignoring the entirety of your husband’s existence as you left him and his mistress when you took the commercial flight back home. It was Ieiri who stayed with you after you passed out from being a dried prune with all the tears you’ve shed over your supposed partner in life. It was her who made sure that Satoru couldn’t talk to you while she and Getou drove you to your dad’s mansion as soon as you landed back in Japan.

If you weren’t burdened by the unbearable pangs inside of your ribcage, you would have found it ironic that Satoru’s own friends could not find it in themselves to support his actions.

“Did you get checked?” Ieiri immediately greeted you with a fusillade of questions as she took notice of the huge brown envelope on your hand. “What happened? What was the result?”

You blamed it on Shoko’s comforting presence because tears pricked at your eyes now that you could finally release the emotions that you’ve kept inside the bottle. “I want to keep this between us but I have a heart condition,” you gave her an honest response while her sunken eyes measured your visage, “It’s gonna worsen over time if I don’t take care of myself.”

“Oh, gosh… Y/N.” She didn’t even hesitate at pulling you into her arms, hiding the glaze of sadness in her eyes. “I’m…” She was rendered speechless and so were you. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

You learned that people, even those not at fault, would apologize for things they did not do because they wanted to extend their sincerest sympathies. Ieiri was the living example of that. She has always been perceptive and sensitive towards other people’s miseries, something that your husband considerably lacked.

“Don’t apologize,” your voice broke, “I had a feeling that I was gonna inherit it from my mom. I’m just glad Gen didn’t.”

Pulling away, she rubbed your back for some comfort. “I mean, you’re literally the kindest and you don’t deserve everything that’s been happening especially with Go—”

“I haven’t seen him in a week,” you cut her off before his name could leave her lips. You genuinely wanted to avoid any topic concerning your husband because even the mere mention of his name could put you on your deathbed at this point. “But I don’t think I can go back to the mansion tonight after knowing about my health. I might just end up breaking down in front of Gen and my dad. I-I don’t wanna worry them.”

She squeezed your arms and you could see it in her eyes that she understood how difficult and emotionally taxing it was for you. “Do you need a place to stay?”

Surely, it was the smartest option, but not as easy as she made it sound. “No, I have to… sort some things out back at the penthouse.”

As much as you dreaded going back to that place to see the man who loathed every fiber of your being, you would rather deal with Satoru now than to be in your weakest state in front of your own family. It was a gamble, but you knew that you would only end up losing on the latter. With Gojou, there was nothing more for you to lose because there hadn’t been any gain in the first place. He might probably even celebrate the fact that your death was only a hair's breadth away. In the end, you had to pay for ruining his life through this marriage. After all, you were a curse more than a blessing for him.

“Okay… well.” Ieiri held your hand with a much needed warmth. “If you need anything, please please let me know. It breaks me to see how you’re dealing with all of this.”

It broke you, too. Wrecked you, even. Your mother’s death left a significant void in your soul and you witnessed the scars it left on your dad—scars that never healed and would stay with him until his last breath. Imagining your father’s reaction to you having a similar health condition would absolutely crush his whole world.

At the end of the day, you still chose to protect everyone’s emotions other than yours.

Dealing with something of this gravity was more than a person could take. Despite the people that surrounded you, you felt so lonely. So forlorn. Everyone else had their own thing going on with their lives while you were bedeviled by the grief in yours. It seemed that the onus was always on you, never of anyone else’s. Happiness was never within your reach because all the universe ever planned for you was to make your human life a living hell.

You were swamped with deep thoughts when you drove around town; lost in the sea of cars moving and passing, of traffic lights blinking and switching, of the people walking and smiling. There was no one to share your troubles with. No one to release the blues in your heart because you were meant to face everything by yourself.

However, while you were stuck in heavy traffic gazing at the baby blue skies, you remembered the one person who believed and encouraged your dreams without even knowing your history. It was the hopelessness that urged you to fish out your purse, withdrawing a certain business card so you could dial the number printed under his name. And as you held the phone to your ear, your listlessness shifted into sanguine.

“Hello?” The deep voice from the other end of the line sparked electricity within your heart. “Who’s calling?”

With a deep breath, you tapped the steering wheel and answered, “Mr. Toji Zen’in, it’s Y/N.” A smile momentarily concealed the pain in your voice. “I was just wondering if I can still take you up on your offer?”

Satoru has not had any decent sleep for the past week.

There was no point in lying. As much as he hated to admit it, he was absolutely miserable without you. Ever since that failure of a weekend getaway, he was haunted by the guilt of putting you through colossal pain all because his wrath swallowed him whole. He had already inflicted damage before his mind became lucid, realizing how the extent of his actions affected you to the point of being completely irreparable. He couldn’t even do damage control because Ieiri wouldn’t allow him to see you. Getou, despite being his closest friend, kept insisting that he should leave you alone.

For how long? He had been deeply agitated because he couldn’t deal with the amount of overthinking that plagued his mind lately. He did not hear from you throughout your absence nor did anyone from your family tried to contact him. Were they aware of what happened? Were you bound to ask for a divorce again? This was the exact reason why he couldn’t drive up to your place and pick you up because he was scared shitless that his presence would provoke you to further reject him.

He fucked up and didn’t know how to turn things around for the better. His greatest fear was for this incident to become a domino effect, from the downfall of your marriage to putting the company in dire straits.

‘You’re becoming like the person you hate the most.’ He recalled Getou’s words and refused it all the more. ‘You already lost her.’ He couldn’t lose you. These things could still be fixed, but what he could never accept was hearing how he was acting exactly like his father. He would never in his life be like the twisted man who ruined his childhood and drove his wife away from his son.

Satoru knew that you made extremely valid points for not wanting a baby, except his ego and his pride just didn’t allow him to immediately understand your perspective with a rational mind.

And Sera. Damn it. What has he done? She was the result of all the rage that consumed him after your big fight. Getting her pregnant out of spite would be the worst case scenario in his already tainted life and he had to prevent it before things got out of control.

With all the said factors in mind, Gojou has completely lost his equanimity. He never thought that he would have to rely on sleeping pills just to get a wink of sleep because his nightmares were getting worse. He would wake up in the middle of the night touching your side of the bed and feeling nothing but cold, empty space. He would go to the office without paying attention to his attire because he couldn’t be bothered to carefully pick the right one for himself. He attended meetings with bags under his eyes, succumbing into deep thoughts when he should be focusing on important business matters.

You weren’t supposed to affect him this much. Why couldn’t he just keep the same frenzied rage that he had when he heard the trenchant words you’ve said about his mother leaving him? Why couldn’t he keep the same attitude when he threw the ring in the ocean and left you sobbing on your knees before he went to his other woman to fuck her stupid?

All he could think of for now was how he could no longer spend another night without seeing or hearing from you. He was going insane. Because, for some unidentifiable reason, his stone cold heart craved your warmth.

“—the goal is to take over J-Air and make it one of the top three leading airlines on a global scale.” Right in front of Satoru was the Chief Operating Officer, delivering a presentation in a long table full of shareholders who all listened intently to the proposal. “According to the financial statement in the business plan, the assets at the fiscal year-end increased by 125.4 billion yen from the end of the previous fiscal year to 1 trillion 854.2 billion yen, mainly due to procurement of aircraft and advance aircraft payments. The liabilities increased by 34.7 billion yen from the end of the previous fiscal year to 760 billion yen due to issuance of corporate bonds and an increase in loans—”

Gojou’s deep exhale earned the attention of the shareholders before he cut to the chase. “What’s the ratio? It’s not in the presentation.”

The COO stammered as he assessed the ceiling-to-floor projector screen. “Uh, well the equity ratio rose by 1.0 percentage points from the end of the previous fiscal year to, uh… 56.9%.”

“Are you sure it’s not 57.2%? How could you mess up the numbers?” Gojou’s austere businessman facade had always been deemed intimidating by everyone else in the room during executive meetings. It didn’t matter if these people were part of the company’s upper echelon. The aura and power that he has was something that they also saw through his father which were both a compliment and an insult for him. Business-wise, Satoru would be happy to hear that he had the same sagacity as his father. But outside of the business world, saying that to his face would send the person into the pits of hell.

One of the lines that can never be crossed in Satoru Gojou’s handbook was to say that he was the exact copy of his dad.

The COO nodded apologetically. “You’re right. My apologies for the error.”

If Satoru didn’t study the financial statements prior to the trip, he doubted that he would have had the capability to make rational decisions on his own since his mind was a befuddled mess all because of you—something very unusual for the frontman who led the general stockholders’ meetings when the Chairman was overseas. Since his father was in Macau to fulfill a proposition for a newly built hotel and casino, Satoru was in charge of approving all the remaining proposals from small acquisitions to huge corporate alliances for the month.

He didn’t want to stall things further when he finally made a decision. “Complete the acquisition,” he ordered in an orotund voice, quickly gaining looks from all the shareholders in the long table. “This should be done in four months. Let’s end the meeting here.”

He was already getting up from his chair, striding across the room as the COO and all the shareholders politely bowed at his exit. His new secretary struggled to keep up with his pace being only recently hired by his father and clearly still requiring more time to adapt in a competitive environment. The woman had many things to catch up on and her boss wasn’t exactly very friendly within the glass walls of the C-Suite floor so Satoru already expected that this poor girl wouldn’t last more than two months.

“Miwa Kasumi, was it?” Gojou only spoke when he entered his office, followed by his seemingly inexperienced secretary. Her nod was brief as she stood by the door. “What’s my schedule for the day?”

She quickly checked through her iPad. “Ah, well… None for the day, sir,” she said, pausing for a moment before adding, “although your wife called today—”

“What’d she say?” With wide sapphire eyes, Satoru was ashamed at how he immediately looked back at her for some news.

Contrarily, Miwa was not surprised at the urgency in her boss’ tone. “Um, she just wanted to check if you had any appointments left.”

Why would you ask for his schedule? Were you planning to finally come back home today? From the corner of his eyes, Satoru saw Sera walking past his office with the click clack of her heels and that ultimately distracted him from the thought of you. However, this time around, it was only because of her presence that his anxiety increased, remembering that he still had to deal with another crucial issue at hand.

“Secretary Miwa,” Gojou gave her one last order before he followed Sera out of the door. “Get the best bouquet you can find. I need it for my wife.”

“Why can’t you do anything right?!” For the longest time, Sera had to put up with her insufferable boss who never once treated her with kindness. Mrs. Fujikawa was one of the strictest Executive on the floor and to some extent, Sera could understand that it was only driven by her challenging role as the company’s CFO. But seeing as how the stern woman showered you with compliments every time you visited the office, she could feel nothing but resentment for the fact that you were only getting treated well because of your status. Sera hated it. She hated just how easy life was for someone like you. “Your photocopies come out like a mess. You don’t get paid to waste my time seeing these unaligned copies一are you listening?!”

In obligatory acquiescence, she gave the woman an apologetic bow. “I’m sorry, Miss. I’ll just do all five-hundred pages again.”

“You better!” Mrs. Fujikawa unforgivably slammed the papers atop the fax machine and pivoted on her heels as she left. Sometimes, Sera wondered if the reason why this woman acted unpleasantly towards her was because she had an inkling about her secret relationship with Satoru. If that was the case, then it would justify just why Mrs. Fujikawa slapped her with the extreme contrast between how you and her were treated.

She couldn’t understand why the elite loved stepping on the lesser people’s shoes like it was their day job. Sera couldn’t even feel an ounce of sympathy for what happened to you back at the trip because she believed that it was karma for your desperate pursuance to make Satoru yours. You needed to know your place, and if passing out from crying was how you would wake up to your senses, then it was good enough that it happened. You have not even experienced half the suffering that Sera had to endure in her life.

It was farcical how you could ruin her day without even showing up in the office. She has no idea how things were between you and Gojou after the trip, but what was aggravating her was how the man couldn’t pay attention to her as much as he used to. Something seemed to have changed. Something seemed to have snapped within him but she could not fathom what exactly it was. Guilt? Remorse? Satoru shouldn’t even feel bad. He never really desired you, anyway.

Sera let herself be swallowed by her bitter thoughts while she spent the next hour skipping her lunch because she was burdened by the amount of photocopies that she needed to finish. And at long last when she had completed her tedious task, she left the copies in Mrs. Fujikawa’s office and marched across the corridor knowing that Satoru would catch a glimpse of her.

Her intuitions were right. She was always right. Because not even a minute after she passed by his office, he was already snatching her arm and pulling her inside the vacant and isolated meeting room to hide from the prying eyes of his employees.

“We need to talk.” Satoru did not make an effort to turn the lights on. Still, Sera could see the consternation in his stance and she despised just how he wasn’t being the usual confident and poised man that she fell in love with. This Satoru was different and unappealing.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the table. “Talk about what?” If she was being honest, Gojou looked awful. His collar was visibly creased and two of his buttons were undone because he didn’t care enough to wear a necktie.

“You took the plan B when I told you to, right?” he asked, perturbed and all. So this was what was causing his anxiety? How laughable. “Answer me,” he egged on, now grabbing her wrist to make her look at his eyes.

Sera, overcome with bitterness, gave him a scoff. “What if I didn’t? Are you that scared that I could be pregnant? Weren’t you so ready to be a daddy?”

“Don’t fuck with me,” he snapped, chest rising and falling deeply. “You’re not valuable enough to ruin my life.”

Taken aback from his piercing remark, she pushed him off. “Not valuable?” A laugh of disbelief followed. “You say I’m the only woman you love and suddenly I’m not valuable? Go fuck yourself, Satoru. It’s not like you even feel anything for her.”

Instead of quickly apologizing like he normally would, he chose not to take his words back despite the puncture it left on Sera’s heart. “You’re not stupid enough not to understand the situation, right?” Not once did he look away. “I know we’ve been in denial about this whole infidelity thing but everyone will see you as a homewrecker. It’ll ruin us both.”

“Why didn’t you pull out if you’re so scared?” she questioned with gritted teeth. Gojou’s logical reasoning was unbelievably asinine. “Ruin us? Why? You were going to divorce her either way.”

Sera didn’t know what hurt more. If it was knowing how Satoru didn’t want a baby with her or hearing him choose you if she ever made him pick what his priority was. At this rate, the restlessness in his face was a sign of how he must have seen his life crumbling down before him.

“Just get a pregnancy test as soon as possible.” He averted his eyes and threw his head back, releasing an exasperated sigh from his peachy lips. “We can’t have a baby. It’s all my fault but we really can’t.”

Sera ignored the searing ache in her heart but tightened her fist nonetheless. “Why? Is she threatening you or what?”

He answered by shaking his head. “She hasn’t come home for a week now.”

So this was what it was. Sera could see it now. Because you had not come home, he had no outlet to release the intensity of his anger but on her. She was the recipient of his rage because you chose to be dramatic about the whole trip. How much of an attention seeker could you be?

“Don’t you realize that she’s maybe just trying to get you to chase her?” she pointed out to enlighten his mind.

Surprisingly, however, he dismissed the thought. “I need her back home regardless.”

Pathetic. This wasn’t Satoru. Sera was displeased to see this other side of him. “You’re not you,” she said, strictly. “Get a hold of yourself. You’re desperate ‘cause you think your plans are gonna fail. Can’t you just resolve it instead of pretending like you need her so badly?”

“I am resolving it.” Satoru’s back collided against the wall as his lover took another step to pin him back. She distracted him by trailing kisses along his jaw, pressing herself against his chest while he spoke his mind. “Just that if she walks out on me, it… it would remind me of when my mom left—”

Sera had to pull away and roll her eyes. “Here we go again.” Truth was, she had no time for this. “I’ve heard about your mother leaving over and over. It’s getting old. Move on.”

Seriously, if he hated his mother so much then why couldn’t he just forget about her? There were more problems to face in life. Sera already had baggage on her own and carrying Satoru’s along with hers was asking for too much. He was a grown adult. Instead of burdening her with his own problems, he should know that there were boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed.

“I’m not in the mood anymore. Talk to me when you figure things out,” was the last thing she said before she left him alone to reflect by himself.

Perhaps she needed some self-reflection, too. She needed some time to think about what would happen if she really did end up pregnant with his child. Frankly, it was all Sera ever wanted because she couldn’t see being with anyone other than Satoru. What would only make the situation problematic was how his father would possibly strip him off of his rights to be the next CEO because of the amount of scandal that it could put the company through. Sera used to understand that Satoru had to make sacrifices to achieve his ideal life, but his indecisiveness and more so his recklessness was making her frustrated.

Had he not shown any signs of genuine affection towards you, Sera never would have acted this way.

She carried the same frustration until she came home to her family’s new apartment downtown. Because of the ten million that she received from Satoru’s dad, Sera was able to lease a decent three-bedroom home in a nice neighborhood as compared to the one she grew up in. Thinking back of how awful their previous house was, she had no intentions of ever going back to the inner-city slums.

Still, life has been unsatisfying for her. When she entered the house, she could immediately smell the stench of alcohol that came from her drunkard father who was sitting on the couch doing nothing like the waste of space that he was. Peeking from the kitchen was her mother cooking their supper, immediately welcoming Sera with a smile as soon as she entered the door.

“My daughter,” she cooed, holding a spatula and wiping her other greasy hand on her apron.

Sera barely acknowledged her mom as she kicked her heels out of the way, walking past her parents while heading straight into her room. At least, her personal space was neat and tidy. Nearly everything in her room was a light shade of yellow and she couldn’t wait for the day when she would finally be able to sleep in a king-sized bed, sharing a room with the one person that she loved.

“Nee-chan?” Her younger sister, Nari, called by the door. “Dinner’s ready.”

Her face stayed rigid. “Yeah, I’ll come out in a while.” Frankly, Sera was feeling lackluster after the conversation that she had with Satoru this afternoon. She was truly upset at how the man was denying the thought of having a baby with her but was willing to have all of that with you. It wasn’t her insecurity tugging at her, she was simply distasteful at the fact that you had a leverage into high society because you were born with a silver spoon on your mouth.

With a restrained sigh, she walked into the mirror and twisted her body, caressing her stomach and imagining how she would look like with a bump growing day by day.

“Sera—!”

God. “I’m coming!” she yelled, slipping out of her office attire and changing into more comfortable clothes. As soon as she got out of her room, the perpetual frown reappeared on her face when her father nearly stumbled onto the dining table. “You said you’ll stop drinking!”

The old man looked up with half-lidded eyes and a stupid grin. “Sera, my daughter!”

“You’re revolting.” Her brows were all furrowed as her siblings watched her harshly pulling out a chair with her misdirected temper.

Her mother was quick to place a piece of fried fish on her plate, only to earn her look of disappointment. “Why? You don’t like the food?”

“I don’t wanna eat this,” Sera complained, huffing in displeasure. “Didn’t I give you enough money to buy good meat?”

All her mother could offer was an apologetic smile. “I had to limit our budget since your dad was….” the increasing silence in her tone was a clear message for Sera. Her father gambled, again. “I’ll try to bargain for some wagyu beef in the market next time.”

No, she was no longer in the mood to eat. She already had an exhausting day at work and despised that she had to come home to this household at all. With the combination of her stress and frustration, she got up from her seat and slammed the chair back in. All of them were startled by her fit of pique but she didn’t even try to conceal it as she looked at her parents with fire blazing in her eyes.

“Nee-chan, calm down,” said Jiro, her brother, who tried to prevent his sister’s growing ire.

“Why would I?” Sera stared daggers at her parents. “Why would I calm down when I have to deal with all of you by myself? Our mom and dad are useless.” Her scoff was full of antagonism. “I don’t deserve to be born into a poor family, but I have no other choice because our parents are failures!”

Silence filled the room because they knew that Sera was becoming tired of having to be the breadwinner of her family. Life’s full of shit, she had that in mind. It was unfair how others had the privilege to be raised in a rich household while she was punished with jobless parents who did nothing but watch their eldest child work her ass off every single day. See, this was the difference between you and her. You didn’t experience this much hardship in life for you to complain about not winning Satoru’s heart.

If Sera couldn’t have anything, then you shouldn’t, too. It was only fair.

“I’m going to bed,” she announced, stomping her way out of the dining area wishing that it was as easy to walk away from the life that she was given.

Toji was the CEO of one of the top conglomerates in Japan and it was normal to perceive the guy as an intimidating man with a dominating presence who could make a room full of people bow at his feet.

But between him and Gojou, he wasn’t exactly the type of man who would uphold his authority just to feel superior. He leaned more into having an approachable stance contrary to popular belief because he knew that his actions would reflect the image of his family’s business empire一the same image will be passed on to his employees who all looked up to him as their highest-ranking executive. How could he inspire people if they were scared of him? That was the easiest way to put it.

You didn’t even feel uncomfortable around him despite not having seen the man for weeks, because as soon as he entered the cafe, he had a boyish grin tugging at his scarred lips when he met you at your table. Beyond the simple hi’s and hello’s, or the how are you’s and the small talk, the man was clearly perceptive to your emotions that he was fast to notice the sorrows that you’ve tried to mask with your docile eyes.

“You’re not here to talk business with me, are you?” His question may be straightforward, but there was comfort laced behind his tone.

Your lips stretched into a small smile. “I’m sorry. You probably have more important things to deal with.”

He quickly countered your assumption with a playful joke, “I can make time for Mrs. Zen’in.”

“Silly.” This wasn’t the first time he managed to make you laugh in your deepest lows. How could someone who wasn’t even your husband be able to do what your spouse was supposed to?

Hesitantly, you tapped your fingers on your cup of coffee and tried to gather yourself together. Back to the real deal, what was the best way to tell someone that you were bound to tragically die? The doctor did say that your case was not life threatening yet, but you already knew where it would lead to. Holding onto false hopes would only wreck you, so it was better to face the harsh realities than to maximize the weight of your suffering for when the time comes.

“No, I… uh,” you paused as you took a deep breath and met his emerald eyes with a glint of hope, “I just wanted to tell you that I need to meet Mai and Maki soon. Maybe Megumi, too.”

The man in a black suit leaned back on his chair without taking his gaze off you. “That’s it?” he asked, looping his fingers onto the ceramic cup before taking a sip from his freshly brewed Americano. “For what?”

You tilted your head a little. “I sketched a new batch of designs and I want to personally have it tailored for them.”

Toji glanced at your lips before meeting your eyes again. “The kids would love that,” he said, immediately taking it back, “Well, not kids anymore, I guess,” and in between his sentences, you found solace from his presence. “How about you come visit the estate tomorrow?”

“Great, I will.” You already looked forward to it knowing that the Zen’ins seem to have such a great relationship with one another. In that sense, the happiness in their household was what yours lacked. Now that you were doomed with a heart problem aside from your loveless marriage, you couldn’t exactly tell how you would proceed to live a contented life. You didn’t have the clarity to think of what you should do to avoid further damages that you have long sustained by keeping your marriage intact. Toji didn’t specifically ask about what was going through your mind, but his obvious concern allowed you to finally spill your thoughts. “I just found out that I… I have a certain heart condition that requires me to keep myself away from severe emotional stress, otherwise it could… be life threatening.”

Unlike Ieiri, his reaction wasn’t big. He was calm and composed, but he was reading through the emotions present on your face as he took a few minutes to let the news sink into him. And even then, feeling sorry was not his option because instead of treating your situation as if it was pitiful, he actually gave you a boost of encouragement. “Life’s too short not to enjoy the happy sides of it.” His eyes glazed with rue nevertheless. “This is the perfect opportunity to focus on yourself and what will bring you happiness. Your dreams, your passion一it’s not too late, Y/N. Having an illness, no matter the magnitude, shouldn’t hold you back from pursuing your heart’s desire.”

He was right. While it was natural for you to think that halcyon days were now out of your reach, it was also a good wake up call for you to realize that you should put your happiness first before anyone else’s. You shouldn’t be counting your last days on Earth, and instead, anticipate the rest of your sunrises and sunsets without any regret.

“I just don’t know where to start,” you admitted, looking at the glass wall and watching the beads of rain bouncing on the concrete. The sky was crying and so should you.

“Does he know?” the man asked. “Or does he care?”

Your crestfallen face could speak for itself. “I don’t plan to tell him,” you said, eyes beginning to pool of tears, “and I一I think it’s healthier for me to maintain my distance.”

Toji wholeheartedly agreed. “You know, staying with him is your fatal flaw.”

The man wasn’t even aware of your husband’s infidelity and ill-treatment. He was simply an innocent bystander and yet he could confidently say that being with Satoru was your hamartia in this tragic love story. Perhaps it was easy to see. Or maybe, he was once in a toxic marriage which made it effortless for him to notice the red flags in yours. If your husband was your own destruction, the only way to prevent it was through divorce.

You weren’t exactly ready to deal with the strain that it would cause you.

What you could do, on the other hand, was to toughen your walls around him. No more setting aside your emotions for his sake, no more extensive effort to save your marriage for your own desire. Your only purpose from hereafter was to live your best life without sacrificing anything more than you already have for a husband who could never love you.

Gojou had never been this nervous coming home.

His hands trembled when he opened the door to the penthouse, holding the bouquet of red roses that his secretary specifically picked for you. He had a gut feeling that you would be coming home tonight because there wouldn’t be any other reason for you to ask about Satoru’s schedule if it wasn’t to prepare yourself when he arrived.

He wouldn’t say that he missed you, but he hasn’t seen your face for a week. He hasn’t heard your voice. Hasn’t received your kisses.

Those feelings of longingness had completely washed away as soon as he entered the apartment and spotted you sitting on the couch, overlooking the cityscape in complete silence. His heartbeat increased exponentially and his desperate footsteps quickly led him to you but he had to slow himself down in case his presence was too overwhelming.

You didn’t exactly acknowledge him right away even when he placed the bouquet on the coffee table before he walked closer and crouched down to look at you. “You’re back.”

It was like he was seeing a different person. Your eyes were empty, your lips were pale. The depressing sadness was overflowing but not once did you make an effort to look at his eyes.

“Y/N…” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “Can we talk about what happened?”

He wasn’t prepared to talk about it, frankly. In fact, he was afraid to look back at what happened because he knew that he fucked up and he knew that he completely ruined you. However, Satoru learned that he had to have the courage to open up before things could worsen. He didn’t even expect that you would be coming home at all so it wasn’t surprising to be welcomed with the palpable tension between you and him right now. It was so intense that it was almost tangible, but he was willing to face it all in exchange for seeing his soft-hearted wife back.

“Talk to me, please.”

Unfortunately, you weren’t very cooperative because you chose to close your eyes and lean your head back as if the man didn’t exist. He could see the slow rise and fall of your chest, the quivering of your lips, and the surge of tears that you were trying so hard to keep. It was as though you wanted to speak to him, but couldn’t. You wanted to open your mouth and say something, but felt that you shouldn’t.

His heart fell.

Since when did Satoru feel this much emotion from you? He felt the urgent need to hear your thoughts in order to comfort you but it wouldn’t be possible if you refused to even acknowledge him in the slightest. And as he held your hand, he noticed that the gold ring was no longer there.

“Wh-Where’s your—” Fuck. He didn’t even have the right to ask about the wedding ring. He just needed you to talk. That’s it. “Have you had dinner yet? Do you wanna go out—”

For the longest minute of his life, you finally moved but only to pull your hands away from his grasp, pressing your palm on your chest as you got up. “You stay away from me.”

Satoru would be a hypocrite if he said that he was actually hurt when he had told you many times to stay away from him in the harshest way possible. He treated you like garbage, stomped on your heart, poisoned your soul with venomous words. How exactly could he find an antidote to make you stay by his side?

He wasn’t used to this. When Getou told him that he already lost you, he had a hard time accepting it. You were still here, and if you coming back home meant that he could fix things, then he would do whatever it took to win you back.

For now, it was difficult to even get you to give him some attention because you avoided crossing paths with him as much as you could. He wasn’t dumb. You must have realized that there was no point in trying to resolve your marital issues when he was bound to pulverize your heart again one way or another. You were protecting yourself from getting hurt, and goddamn did it bring a pang of unshakable guilt to Satoru.

He couldn’t ignore the little things, too. Such as how you locked the door while you were taking your night shower when you used to let him enter anytime he wanted to. Gojou left for work this morning with an unmade bed and pieces of his clothing that were all over the floor. His leather shoes were scattered, his neckties were in disarray—everything was messy without you. Now, your shared bedroom was clean and tidy again, but there was a strange uninviting coldness that seeped through.

Because he was panicking without knowing what to do, Satoru spent some time lounging at the pool area as he dialed his best friend’s number. He hasn’t spoken to the guy since you all got back from Bora Bora and he was hoping that he could allow him to confide even just for tonight.

Getou knew that there was no other reason for Gojou to call at ten in the evening if it wasn’t about you. “What’s up?” The guy’s casual tone was a relief for Satoru to hear.

“Suguru, she came home,” he quickly spilled, looking up at the night sky as he leaned against the metal railings, “but she’s not talking to me.”

“Jesus. I wonder why?” His words dripped with sarcasm. “She doesn’t even know that you fucked a baby into Sera. It’s gonna ruin her.”

He took a deep breath and released it into a deep sigh. “Don’t tell her. I’m already trying to clear things up with Sera. She took the plan B.”

Getou snorted from the other end of the line. “Now you suddenly care about how Y/N would feel?”

Gojou couldn’t find a good rebuttal to his best friend’s question. The only thing he could do was express his distress. “She’s not wearing her ring anymore. I just know she’s about to bring up the divorce. Fuck, Suguru. I don’t know what to do.”

There was a minute of silence from his best friend’s side that Satoru almost thought he hung up on him. He even had to check the caller ID to make sure that he was still listening until he did speak again. “Did you know that Y/N jumped into the ocean to look for your ring and nearly drowned?”

Shit. “H-How—Why didn’t you tell me?” No wonder you couldn’t even spare him a glance. His stupid actions resulted in that, and he didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself for it. His wife. His poor wife. What had he done?

“You made it very clear that she didn’t mean anything to you.”

“Suguru,” he warned.

“What?” The guy scoffed. “It’s your marriage. Fix it without hurting her,” and before Gojou could respond, Getou added one last thing, “I found your ring and gave it to her. You can ask her for it.”

Fix it without hurting you—how could he actually do that?

It was nearly midnight when he returned to bed and saw you sitting in silence, sketching on your tablet with an unyielding gaze even as your husband slipped in next to you. His pride told him not to say anything and let you be, but for once, he let his heart win.

“Don’t you wanna sleep? It’s late,” he offered, scooting closer to give you a light kiss on the shoulder. At least, he could sleep well tonight knowing that you would be by his side.

Your hum was barely audible as you moved away.

Unlike for the past week, he surprisingly fell asleep quicker tonight. It didn’t even take him five minutes to fully succumb into his slumber without any nightmare waking him up in the middle of the night with cold sweats and a rapid heartbeat. The thing was, he did wake up but it was because your side of the bed felt empty.

When his eyes shot open at three in the morning, he had to make sure that he hadn’t dreamed about you coming home as he got up from bed and looked for you. You weren’t in the bathroom so where else would you be at this time of the night?

The answer to his question shattered the entirety of his heart because when he made his way out of the bedroom, he ended up seeing you sleeping like an angel on the couch with a blanket draped over your body. Curled in a fetal position, eyebrows creased as if you were having a bad dream.

This was it. This was how he finally opened his eyes to the accumulation of misery that he had put you through.

When he first got into this marriage with you, he remembered ruthlessly asking you to sleep on the couch on your exact first night as a newlywed couple. That version of him wouldn’t have cared now.

But this version of him quickly scooped you into his arms, carrying you out of the couch and tucking you back into your king-sized bed with only as little of a distance that he could give between you two. He was holding you close, so close that you could probably feel his heartbeat vibrating against your back because he wanted nothing but to make you feel the sincerity in his actions and just how regretful he was for everything that he has done.

“I’m sorry,” he just had to whisper it in your ear, kissing your temple when he hugged you tighter. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough but it’s all I have.”

He felt warm drops of your tears falling on his forearm as you shifted to hide your face away. “M-My heart’s already suffering,” you spoke softly, unaware that the pain in your voice caused goosebumps all over his body, “please don’t make it suffer more.”

“I won’t—”

“All I-I ever wanted was a h-happy marriage.” Your chest heaved as you silently cried, but Satoru respected that you didn’t want your face to be seen as you shed more tears to release the agony that you’ve been keeping inside. The most he could do was to hold you in his arms and press his lips against the crook of your neck. “J-Just let me go.”

Satoru refused to. Now that he was hearing your downpour of raw emotions, he too was on the suffering end. He too could feel tears forming in his eyes as he listened to your heartache. “I don’t want you to go.”

How could he let you go? How could he let go of the only person that understood his pain? The person that went out of her way to comfort him despite the treatment she had to receive? He was goddamn scared to lose you and he could now see your importance to him. Gojou has done so many fucked up things in life, but seeing you like this was what finally turned things around.

He had to change course. He had to treat you better. And, for his sake and yours, he had to right his wrongs.

Things were too good to be true.

It was what you told yourself when you broke down in your husband’s arms last night until you fell asleep after all the tears that you had to release. For the first time since your marriage, Satoru did not move an inch to release you from his tight embrace. He was almost like a kid clinging to his mother, afraid to ever let her go.

Although, at daybreak you remembered that your life had drastically changed now. Giving into the rollercoaster ride of forgiving Satoru could be your destruction in the end. Just like what your doctor said, avoiding stress could be a lifesaver. Just like what Toji said, being with Satoru was your fatal flaw. Their respective advice was clear and reasonable.

Now it was on you to listen to them.

You have decided that from this day forward, you would only focus on yourself, your health, and your happiness. Not even Satoru would be able to break through your walls because you already learned. You had to be strong. You had to be independent.

Ironically, the tables seem to have turned, because when you were all dressed up at seven in the morning on a Saturday, your husband was the one who hugged you from behind and feathered kisses on your neck.

“Where you goin’?” he asked, voice deep and raspy. He sought for your attention with visible yearning.

You pushed his hand away and grabbed your bag. “Don’t wait on me. I’ll be out for the whole day.”

“Hold on.” Satoru’s electric blue eyes were wide as he held onto your wrist. “I need to ask something.”

After drawing a deep breath, you gave him an apathetic look and didn’t say a word.

He couldn’t veil the curiosity in his visage. “About the ring, Suguru told me he found it,” said he, shooting you a hopeful gaze like he still had every right to bring it up. “Can I have it back?”

The audacity. His request almost earned your scoff, but you decided to keep a straight face because it was better to hold back than to argue knowing that it wasn’t in your nature to act such. “I don't think you need it.”

“Y/N.” You couldn’t believe that he would follow you into the living room like a lost puppy, vying for your attention as if he had been deprived of it for the longest time. Unfortunately for him, showing his sincerity was more than just a bouquet of roses and barely audible apologies. “How do I make it up to you? I’ll do anything.”

You turned on your heel to leave. I’m sorry, Satoru. I have to protect my heart.

“You wanna make it up to me, you will do it for the rest of your life.”

Twenty years old, a husband with a stable living, something that can suffice for the rest of your life. All you need is to do your chores, give him your body, be his prim and proper wife. It sounds fairly easy, another thing that your mother insisted, so what is it?

Why do you crave more? Why do you have to remind yourself that you love him, love this life at all?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock on your door. When you open it, you’re met with the sight of a tall girl with glasses. She’s in a black maid dress that stops at her knees, complemented by the white apron that flows along with the part of the skirt, ruffling at the end. She has a bag hanging on her shoulder and her expression shows slight amusement at your surprise. Surely, she’s at the wrong house, right?

“Are you (Y/N)?”

“Y-Yes,” you stutter out, not realizing that you were staring, “Uh, w-who are you?”

“I’m Zenin Maki, but you can call me Maki,” she observes your figure, noticing the sly nervousness radiating off of your expression, “Your husband hired me. Said he wanted someone to help you out.”

“O-Oh.”

“May I come in?”

“Of course.” You move to the side, watching the woman scan your house. It’s slightly messy, a result of your husband not cleaning up after lounging in the living room, and she doesn’t waste time to clean it up, rearranging the decorative pillows and helping you carry the leftover dishes to the sink. Just as you’re about to put on your gloves, her hand comes out to grab your wrist and the other takes it out of your hand. “Don’t. I got this.”

You step back, watching Maki put on the gloves herself, lathering the dishes as you did before. You don’t know what to do, standing there awkwardly as she places them in the dishwasher. It’s a given opportunity to observe how her skirt stops right above her knee, flowing out naturally and modestly accentuating her body. Her headband compliments the look, her hair tied back with bangs covering up her forehead, stopping short of her glasses. Warmth creeps up your neck to your cheeks and you sharply look away, focusing your vision on the bowl of apples on the center of the dining table.

“You can rest, Miss. But I’m going to need help putting away the dishes later. Is that okay?” She asks and you turn around to give her a nod. “Is there anything else you need done?”

“Oh, no, it’s okay, you really don’t need to-”

“I was hired to help you out with chores. Please, do not worry about me.”

You sigh in defeat, looking directly at her face, her pretty face. She had a sharp expression, piercing eyes that can bore into your soul, defined cheekbones. A sensation of uneasiness rested in your lower belly and you realize you’re staring when she waves a hand over your face. “Hello? Miss?”

“S-Sorry! I was just thinking about something!”

“Oh. Well, I was just asking if you can help me put some of the dishes away just for today. I don’t know where everything is and I don’t like disorganization.”

“Of course. Of course.”

“You need anything else?”

“Folding the laundry, for now, I think? The clothes should be dry. Everything is upstairs.”

She follows behind you as you bring her out to the terrace where your laundry hangs on a string. Dresses, button ups, and ties of earth toned colors adorn the area and you touch the fabrics. The sun had definitely done its job. Maki is already setting up the ironing board that was previously laying in the corner of your bedroom and gathering your husband’s work attire together. When she’s done flattening the creases on the pieces of clothing, you take them, hanging and folding. With her help, you were finished in half the time it usually took you.

“Thank you, Maki. Really, I appreciate it.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Miss. Your husband hired me to do my job and I am happy to help.”

As you hang your last dress, you give her a smile.  

—

“Honey, I’m home!”

Your husband’s voice sounds throughout the house as he’s met with the sight of you and Maki laying out plating foods and placing them on the dinner table. He smiles and you walk towards him to greet him with a hug and a kiss. Maki continues with the task, sparing a glance at the both of you. “You didn’t tell me you hired a maid,” you whisper to your husband, “Though, she has been very helpful.”

“I’m glad, Honey.” He replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Kind of curious as to why you hired one in the first place.”

“I’ll tell you later. Let’s have dinner, alright?” He shoots you a grin before looking over to Maki. “Feel free to stay for dinner, Maki!”

“I’m alright. I should get going anyways—”

“Nonsense!” You husband eagerly responds, pulling out an extra chair just for her, “My dear wife here says you’ve been helpful.”

“I have classes.”

“Oh. Well you might as well take some home!” You suggest, walking over to your tupperware cabinet.

Before you go back to your husband, you plate some food for her to take home and make sure she makes it back to her car as she walks out the door. You let out an involuntary sigh, leaning against the doorway and feeling content that you now have an extra hand.

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Why do we need a maid?”

“Simple,” he grabs your hands from across the table, “I think we’re ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to have kids, silly woman!” His laughter booms throughout the entire room, “I mean you’ll have to get off birth control and everything, but I think it’s time.”

You laugh nervously as he leans in for a kiss. “Honey, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t know about this.”

“What?” He stands up, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, “Why not?”

“I’m just kind of, uh, scared? I don’t know if I’m ready and we just got married a few months ago, you know?”

“Come on, don’t be scared,” he reassures you, kissing your cheek, “I hired Maki to be our maid to lay the stress off of you. I offered her an in-house job, which she’ll be starting next week, just so that you could rest easy while you’re pregnant.”

“In-house? Is she going to live with us?”

“Of course! She’s a college student, so she doesn’t mind getting paid and living in a house,” he explains before going back to the topic, “So please. I want you to have our baby. We can start tonight.” He suggests, wiggling his eyebrows.

“O-Okay.”

—

The next few days, the cycle continues.

Maki comes in the morning, usually just about right before your husband leaves for work, and she helps you throughout the day. Doing dishes, folding clothes, cleaning the bathroom. Most of the time you help her, usually against her will, but it leads to a calm and comforting silence when you work together. She’s moving in soon, two days to be exact, and you think it’s time to get to know a little bit about her.

One problem; She’s reserved, which intimidates you, and you’re too scared to start a conversation.

Eventually, you’re going to have to break the ice. So you do it as she’s ironing the clothes and you’re putting them away. You think up a few basic questions, mulling them over as to not make her uncomfortable because you want to get to know her.

“My husband tells me you’re in university right now. What’s your major?”

“Sports science.” She replies bluntly, continuing her task.

“Oh, cool cool,” you try to figure out a way to continue, but come up blank. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk.

“What do you do when your husband is not around?” She asks curiously, as if she sensed your desire to hold the conversation.

“Chores, usually,” you frown, “Sometimes I watch TV, but I wish I was able to do other stuff. I really like painting, too. But I haven’t done much of that ever since we got married.”

“Oh. Why not?”

“Well, I’ve always wanted to become an artist. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid, but my family wanted stability for me so they introduced me to a family friend’s older son,” you smile, memories of your younger self filling up your head before a sense of sadness falls over your expression, “They said this would be good for me. And it is. My husband is a good man, I have a roof over my head and dinner on the table everyday, you know. I’m not complaining,” you pause, reeling out of your own thoughts, “Sorry if I just overshared.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” she reassures you, “Just out of curiosity, how old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“That’s funny, I’m twenty one.”

“You’re closer to my age than my husband,” you laugh, folding another white button up before placing it in a drawer, “We are in very different positions.”

“Yes, we are,” she chuckles, “A struggling college student and a cool housewife.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say cool—”

“Nonsense!” She grumbles, an attempt to mock your husband.

“Nonsense!”

“Nonsense!”

The both of you laugh and you realize how she seems almost angelic. The look in her eyes that was once piercing and intimidating was soft and heavenly. Her cheeks are flushed red and her smile was alluring. Before you even realize it, a feeling of warmth settles in your lower belly and it gets harder and harder to take your eyes off of her. Her chuckle was music to your ears and you’ve internally decided that it was one of your favorite sounds.

—

“Goodnight, Honey.”

He plants a kiss on your sweaty forehead before turning his back towards you, opting to hug a pillow on the side instead. Everything is wet, sticky, and gross, but before you can say anything, your husband is already fast asleep, little snores filling the air of the master bedroom. You lay down for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling in the dark until you gather up the last of your willpower to get up and clean the mess between your legs.

It was an okay night.

Sure, you came, but it was just boring. There was nothing to it, only the huffs and groans and praises from your husband as he lived out his fantasy of finally being able to breed you. You’re happy to provide him, as long as it makes him happy, because he loves you and you love him. Even if you have to clean up the mess yourself, even if you don’t finish, even if that rush of loving emotion that everyone seems to describe never hits you.

You’re happy.

That’s what you tell yourself anyways. Yet, your fingers rub furiously on your clit while the other pumps in and out of your dripping cunt. You’re close and you pretend that it’s her fingers You pretend that it’s her fingers that you’re clenching around, her mouth leaving soft kisses from your neck down to your exposed breasts. You pretend that you’re tugging on dark hair, asking for more, but when you come down from your high, the ringing in your ears stops suddenly and the snores overtake your hearing once again.

Maki.

It’s wrong, disgustingly wrong, but there’s no way to escape her. Not when she’s in your house in the morning, the afternoon, and the evening. She helps with everything, things that you didn’t even consider yourself, talks to you about the things you like. And you know that her favorite color is black, her family would have much rather preferred if she went the same route you did, and she likes junk food a little too much.

You also wonder when you should tell your husband that you definitely have not gone off those pills.

—

“Miss?”

“Yes?” You respond, a grocery bag in your arms filled with different fruits, vegetables, and meat. Although you've made a few additions to your list and you were unsure at first, but as Maki empties it, her eyes light up at the sight of the bright little bag.

“You got chips?”

“Well, yeah. They’re for you. I know you liked them.”

She beams at you and it’s almost blinding. There’s an odd flutter in your stomach and you ignore it, but it only becomes stronger when she rips open the bag and munches on the whole thing in seconds. The small satisfied moan from the first bite has you internally celebrating. She looks at peace. All she’s doing is eating a bag of her favorite chips, yet it fills you with some unexplainable feeling of warmth. You make another mental note to buy even more next time.

—

“What do you think of him?”

“Who?” She asks, sitting up on the couch as she watches you get lost on the canvas in front of you.

“My husband.”

“Oh,” she pauses, her hand coming from under her chin to think, “He’s pretty cool, I guess. He also pays me which is pretty cool, you know.”

“Come on, I won’t tell him,” you insist, coming close, your hands involuntarily brushing over hers. She doesn’t pull them away, letting you rest them, enjoying the extra warmth.

“I mean, he’s a man, alright.”

“What does that even mean?”

“No offense,” she continues, finding the least rudest way to say it, “He’s kind of basic, you know? Which isn’t bad but he yells at the TV when watching football, has you light his cigarettes, and waits for you to serve him food. Just your typical husband things, I guess.”

“Are you saying my husband is boring?” You ask with a stoic face, watching the fear fill her eyes.

“No, no! That’s not what I—”

“Kidding,” you chuckle as she purses her lips before joining along, “I was just curious.”

“Well, why?”

“I don’t know,” you say, sighing as you think of all the times he did anything romantic for you, “He’s a good man, you know that, right?”

“Well, of course.”

“He brings me flowers, gives me goodnight kisses, tells me he loves me, but—” you pause, afraid to finish the thought. Your heart pounds at the mess of ideas on your mind and you’re ashamed, “I don’t know if I feel that love thing those people always talk about.”

“What do you mean?”

She’s intrigued to say the least. You’re fiddling your thumbs with a nervous smile on your face. All the while, the music you put on fades in the background until it’s only the two of you, hearts beating fast, blood rushing to your cheeks. When you finally look her in the eye, she doesn’t miss how glassy they look and that’s when her suspicions are confirmed without a verbal sentence — you’re unsure.

“He- Well, I don’t know. Forget I said anything about it,” you clasp your hands together before getting back to work in the kitchen, “And please, don’t tell him.”

Uncertainty, you’re most definitely full of it, but Maki is almost sure she’s figured it out before you have and she likes to think that she’s gotten to know you. She’s picked up how you play with your fingers when you’re unsure, how you smooth down your dress when you try to keep your composure, how that your smile loses genuinity while you’re at the dinner table. She decides it’s not her business, she’s only the housemaid and you’re just the housewife she works under.

But she’ll always be there for you with open arms if you need it.

—

“We gotta make breakfast, Maki.” You poke her side, waking her up from a deep sleep.

You’re already ready for the day, the top half of your hair already tied in a bun and a lilac colored dress adorning your figure. She’s caught off guard when she opens her eyes and you’re sitting up on the side of the bed poking at her hip. Her vision is blurry without her glasses, but she can clearly smell the sweet scent of vanilla perfume. Taking in a deep breath, she sits up, too, reaching for her glasses on the bedside table.

And her sleek, black hair cascades down her shoulders, though it’s slightly messy, you’re tempted to run your fingers through the soft looking strands. You’ve seen Maki in her maid uniform at home, jeans when she goes out to shop, but the sight of her in a satin night dress was different and your breath hitches when the blanket falls off the upper half of her body. It’s a loose fit and she looks absolutely ethereal, almost like an angel.

She turns her head to the side and you fake cough, trying to make up for staring a little too long. “I know your day doesn’t start yet, but I was hoping to get some help on breakfast today. Is that alright with you?”

“Of course, Miss. I’ll go get ready right now.

“Cool.”

You walk down to the kitchen, preparing a pie crust for your quiche and reading through the recipe you were given by a friend. By the time you blind bake the crust, Maki joins you in her usual attire. “Need anything, Miss?”

“While the quiche is baking, I just need you to make some cookie dough. Just the usual, my family is coming over later.”

“Of course.”

She gets to work right away, finding the ingredients immediately as you fill up your empty pie crust and dance around the kitchen. Right after the quiche is placed in the oven, your hips sway along with the music that plays in the radio. It’s all soft and slow, Maki smiling at your antics while you jokingly attempt to serenade her. She’s mixing in the chocolate chips into the dough and you walk forward, energetic and lost in the song.

You don’t think much of it when you grab her hip and your faces come closer together. One second, you were playfully dancing around your kitchen and the next, your breaths mingle, the gap between the two of you closing. It’s her who decides to lean forward, soft lips meeting together, your back suddenly meeting the edge of the counter. Her hands rest on the surface, each on either side of you, and her lips taste like cherries. Your hands come up to her cheeks as your mouths meld together until it’s hard to breathe.

You pull away first, remembering that your husband is still sleeping upstairs. “What are we doing?”

“Don’t know,” she replies, her hand starting to trail under the skirt of your dress, “It feels right, though.”

“Should we stop?” You mutter, just barely enough for her to hear.

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

It gives her the extra rush of courage to get under your dress and push your body until your back is flat on the counter. Luckily, there was nothing underneath except for a pair of plain black panties, a damp spot right in the middle. Her thumb presses on your clothed clit and by the way your body squirms she knows you’re sensitive which only adds to the sadistic fun of pulling down your underwear at an agonizingly slow pace. “Need you,” you breathe out, your legs being positioned on her shoulders, “I need you, please.”

“I got you, Baby. Don’t worry.” She replies with a smile, her breath hitting your wet cunt.

Your breath hitches as her tongue trails up from your hole up to your sensitive pearl and she moans at the sweet taste of your arousal. Her hands keep a firm grip on your thighs, holding them open as you bite your lip to contain your moans. He’s right upstairs, you think, but any thought of caution starts to leave you once her soft lips wrap around your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves causing your knuckles to turn white as they grab onto the edge of the counter.

Your husband has never touched you like this. Ever.

The feeling of her mouth is foreign, but welcome. Before you know it, the grip on one of your thighs loosen and two fingers slip into your soaked cunt. She’s gentle at first, the pumps of her digits ever so delicately pressing against your g spot, but once you hike up the skirt of your dress and thread your fingers through her hair, she speeds up, hitting hard and fast. “M-Maki— Shit!”

You squeal when her tongue starts massaging your clit and your walls clench despite being empty, “Such a pretty girl,” she coos, watching in awe at how your slick coats her fingers, “Such a pretty pussy.”

Lewd praises and squelches fill the kitchen air as the coil in your stomach builds and snaps until your cunt is gushing all over her. Your back arches as you reach your high and she leaves a trail of kisses from your thigh to your sopping pussy. Bringing her fingers to your mouth, she gives you one command.

“Suck.”

You obey, wrapping your soft lips around her digits, swirling your tongue and she gives a graceful smile, brushing a thumb over your flushed cheeks. A sheen of sweat covers your forehead, but the sound of footsteps brings you out of your thoughts. Maki pockets your underwear, giving you a wink, before washing her hands and taking the nearly forgotten quiche out of the oven.

By the time you hear the footsteps of your husband, you’re decent, minimal signs of physical exertion just barely noticeable. She’s going through her usual routine of plating your food in front of the two of you, doing the dishes, laundry, everything. You want to say something, you really do, and you’re left with your own questions.

At night, you’re left pondering the strong women with silky black hair whilst in the arms of your husband.

—

Two days.

That’s how long it’s been since you’ve gotten the most mind blowing orgasm of your life. Your panties are still missing, though you don’t mind knowing who has them. And when you think about the things your mother has told you repeatedly about your perfectly structured life, it crumbles with each second. When you look at the face next to you, the indifference in your heart starts to become more and more prominent.

And even though you should feel guilty — well, you do — you also don’t regret it at all.

You still do your chores as expected, make the bed, cook dinner. You still organize the laundry, do the dishes, and tend to your rose garden. You still disinfect, fold, and have sex with your husband who’s indifferent to your pleasure every night. Almost every domestic activity was accompanied by Maki, who often sought to take over or help.

Yet, she wouldn’t even look at you.

She wouldn’t say anything that didn’t pertain to a grocery list or a command and it was infuriating. Still, you were determined to bring it up — how could you not? As you fold blankets on the couch and think, you call out her name. “Maki?”

“Yes, Miss?”

“Are we going to talk about what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

Your heart drops a tiny bit, it was an expected response based on the fact it felt like she was avoiding you, but you still had to swallow the lump in your throat. “Nevermind. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” She asks as you’re looking down on the rug, trying to focus on the pattern instead of the woman in front of you.

“I’m just sorry I brought it up. I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry that we did whatever that was,” you take a deep breath as forming tears blurred your vision, “I’m sorry that I can’t fucking do this, Maki. I don’t love him. I can’t love him.”

She sighs, scooching forward and closer to you then pulling the half folded blanket from your hands. “You shouldn’t be sorry. This was my fault.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“You’re just, I’m just—” you inhale again, trying to find the right words to say, “You’re different. You’re different from him in all the best ways. You listen to what I have to say, you care about how I feel.”

“That’s something that any good friend would do—”

“I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Oh.”

She brings her fingers to your chin, nudging your head up until you’re looking her in the eyes for the first time in days. She gazes at you, appreciating every curve and every mark on your skin. You take this as an opportunity to lean in, planting a soft kiss on her lips. She doesn’t stop it, instead indulging in the act, cupping your cheeks.

It soon becomes hungry, her tongue slipping past your lips, you being rolled over onto your back as she slips her hand under your floral dress. She presses a finger against your clothed cunt, causing you to gasp and throw your head back. At the same time she leaves sloppy kisses on the exposed skin of your neck and you struggle to form a coherent sentence.

“M-Maki, stop,” you whimper and she pauses, “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Oh?” She smirks, giving you another breathless kiss, “Wanna put that mouth to use, Baby?”

“Yeah,” you breath out, “Wanna make you feel good, Mommy.”

Her expression is filled with pride as she drags her fingers across your face and into your mouth. You comply with the silent command, wrapping your lips around the digits and sucking softly, swirling your tongue around them. “Good girl.”

You let out a hum while she discards her panties somewhere on the ground and her bare cunt hovers over your face. It’s intimidating, yet the sight of her glistening folds makes you wet. All you wanted to do was taste her, drink up all of her juices, and when you finally do you can’t get enough. Despite the lack of experience, you do what you think would feel good, giving experimental licks, noting when her body twitched and when she would let out a saccharine moan.

“Fuck — you’re doing so well,” she coos, carding her fingers through your hair, admiring the sight of your half lidded eyes and the feel of your tongue, “You sure this is your first time eating pussy?”

You hum in response which sends vibrations throughout her body, causing her to throw her head back. You grip onto her lower back, desperately bringing her wet cunny closer to yourself and she rolls her hips, grinding herself on your mouth. You’re already addicted, lapping at all of the cum she has to offer, watching intently as her mouth forms an o shape and she soaks the lower half of your face.

“Such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?”

She gets off your face and you smile with pride, tugging off the rest of her maid uniform until she’s completely bare in your living room. Every curve of her body fills you with even more lust and you’re sure your panties are soaked just from the sight. Her thighs are defined, muscular even, and you kiss them before going back to her ruined pussy, lapping at all the slick.

“You’re so pretty, Maki,” you utter, your breath hitting her neck as you come back up to her face.

She pushes you backward until you’re flat on your back, pinning your wrists together before ripping off your panties. Maki wastes no time, two fingers entering your hole and curling with every thrust. “You got this wet from eating me out?” She questions cockily, leaving an open mouthed kiss on the shell of your ear along with a nibble, “You’re a cute little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you whimper in between breaths, “Feels s’good.”

“Yeah?” She responds, watching you come undone underneath her.

Your orgasm builds up with every pump, the coil in your stomach tightening. She fastens the pace, every movement being calculated, her fingers knuckles deep in your cunt. Her fingertips manage to brutally hit the spongy spot inside of you, causing your legs to shake. Your back arches when her lips wrap around your clit, the simultaneous stimulation making your body tremble in delight. You’re gushing all over her fingers and she stares in awe as your slick drips down your thighs.

“Can we go to the bedroom?” You request meekly, barely recovering from your last orgasm.

“Of course, Baby,” she beams at you, body gleaming with a sheen of sweat, your heart fluttering in your chest.

Maki picks you up bridal style with almost no effort, pressing kisses all over your face on the way upstairs. When you finally get to the bedroom, she lays you down gently, almost as if you were a delicate piece of glass. But the moment of soft intimacy doesn’t last.

It doesn’t last when her pussy hovers over your face with her head buried in between your legs, licking hot stripes on your folds, sucking on your pearl while her fingers brush on your legs before finding their way back to your ruined cunt. Your tongue presses on her slit and her hips lower until your mouth is full of pussy. Her sweet taste is addicting and concurrent moans only heighten the pleasure, vibrations shooting through both of your bodies. Her thumb circles your clit furiously as she pulls away from your cunt to speak.

“You like this, don’t you? Ain’t this the same bed where you get fucked by your husband?” She questions demandingly, slapping your cunny.

You whine into her cunt, the sudden pain causing your walls to clamp around nothing. She laughs sadistically, pinching your clit, biting at your inner thighs.

“S’good, such a good little slut,” she coos, her nose tickling your clit as her face inches closer, “Bet you like getting fucked by your maid, don’t you?”

You can only respond with a squeal, her hand laying another blow to your aching pussy. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I got you.” She reassures you, mouth ravaging your cunt, slurping every drop of cum you had to offer. She’s close to her own orgasm, you can tell by the way she rides your face, soaking the lower half until the sweet droplets slide down your neck. You massage her clit with your tongue as she comes down from her high, but after yours, she doesn’t stop.

Instead, she continues to feast on your cunt like a starved woman, the pressure in your stomach building for the nth time that day. Coming again almost hurts, but she ignores the high pitched wails spilling from your lips, the sounds only encouraging her to keep sucking until your body trembles. At this point, you’re light headed, vision gradually becoming blurry. Your walls are pulsating, your mind is unable to process everything at once.

Especially the shocked man who stands in the doorway of your bedroom.

And at that exact moment, you let out a sob as Maki sadistically looks your husband right in the eye, her mouth still devouring your overstimulated cunny with fervor. Your hole leaks milky white, staining your shared sheets and you cry out her name, hopelessly gripping onto the plush of her ass for stability, digging your nails into the flesh. When she pulls away, a string of spit connects from her mouth to your pearl and her pupils are blown, cheeks covered with your arousal, all the while maintaining eye contact with him.

As if there was no one in the room, she readjusts her until her face hovers over yours, her swollen pussy present on your thigh.

“Open.”

You comply readily and she grabs your face with one hand, squishing your wet cheeks so hard that they start to ache.

“Good girl.”

She spews into your mouth, watching the blob as it glides down your tongue and you swallow obediently before she comes down for a sweet kiss. The taste of yourself makes your head dizzy with lust. Let it be known that the horrified figure standing in the doorway could never make you feel as good as the maid.  

Oops.

© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my work on other platforms.

“(y/n)… do you feel good?” he asked, love-filled golden eyes stared down at you in awe as sweat beaded his forehead. his thrusts were slow and deep, savoring the moment because it’s been a while since eren went away for another business trip and when he had his alone time with you. he kissed your heated cheek sweetly, a large hand smoothing out your hair a little, while he listens to your gasps and moans with delight.

“do i make you feel good?” he asked again, admiring your fucked out look. you always look so pretty like this. succumbing to him, letting him touch you and make you feel good. it feels so intimate that reiner could only continue as his heart skips a beat when you praise him.

“you make me feel so good… always.. ’s big…” you whispered, pulling him closer to you by his neck, panting against his lips before claiming them. reiner could feel a shiver run up his spine at your sweet words and the taste of your lips, always so sweet like honey, and he was addicted, too hooked to stop.

he kissed you deeply like the way he thrusts deep inside of you, his large cock kissing your cervix a bit painful but you love it anyway. the stretch and pleasure he gives you makes you dizzy. he’s always the best when it comes to taking care of you when you’re lonely and that’s why you always keep coming back to him. that’s why you can’t just stop meeting him when your husband is away. though, truthfully, that's the only time you remember him, when eren, your husband, was away. you were happy with your marriage but when he goes away for his godforsaken job, leaving you alone and gets angry when you complain about it, that’s when you get annoyed and irritated.

even now, all you can think of is your lovely husband though like hell you’d say that right now. you’d lie and tell reiner that he was the one you’re thinking of and the man wouldn’t even think twice about it. always believing your word like a loyal mutt, your loyal little puppy.

you tremble when his pace gets faster, hitting your sweet spot without fail with the tip of his cock making your thighs shake that hang loosely around his waist. loud moans and cries filled your shared bedroom of you and your husband, the bed creaking with the way he fucks into you. you grasped unto his broad shoulders, pulling him close to you as you felt his strong and hard muscles against your softer body. it was comforting since it was faintly reminiscing of what your husband's body felt like against yours though it was different really but beggars can't be choosers, you guessed.

his warm hand caressed the side of your waist before gripping it to pull you closer to him with every thrust he does, getting deeper if that was even possible.

"hmng! ahh! so good! 's good!" your incoherent mumbling and cries was the only thing that was heard in the room along with reiner's constant praising and asking of "if you feel good" and words of affection that you ignored.

you were focusing on the pleasure he gave you, the band in your stomach threatening to snap once again for the night. he made you cum with his mouth, fingers, and now, with his cock. reiner was a giver though very submissive and wanted to please you all the time.

he looked down at you with soft eyes, moaning along with you, his muscles contracting every time he moved along with you. the way your cunt squeezed him tight, trying to milk him of his worth. he wanted to cum inside you so much, paint your insides with white and make you a mommy. fill you up with his child that you talked about that you wanted. maybe then you'll leave your husband to be with him. yeah, he should try that. he can't let you leave, he has to tie the knot to make you stay with him.

his thoughts filled his head once again making him move like he was in a trance, pace still steady and constant. he leaned a hand down to your clit, rubbing circles on it. reiner wants to see you cum again.

"honey, you feel so good... are you close?... i want to cum inside you.." he said, brows furrowed in concentration as he still pumps his length into you with a vigorous pace.

you didn't even understood what he just said, mind blanking out, you just kept nodding, since you don't really listen to him when you two do this. the pleasure is the only thing you want.

reiner's golden eyes widened and his heart fluttered when he saw you nodding, a giddy feeling in his stomach. he bit his lips, a grin threatening to split his mouth open. with that, the way he moved became even more aggressive wanting to fill you up more than anything.

"i'm gonna fill you up, honey, don't worry! i'll give you a child that you so badly want! i love you, i love you! i knew you'd realize we're meant to be together sooner or later! please be my wife, honey!" he kept ranting out making you furrow your brows. you caught his words a bit, your body now getting frigid with horror when you realized. you started shaking your head and tried to push him away but the moans that continued to escape your swollen lips only motivated reiner, thinking nothing was wrong with it.

it's bad enough that your orgasm was also coming in fast, making tears spill down from your eyes, you didn't even know if it's because of pleasure or because of the fear that you felt. reiner massaged your swollen clit with frantic circles and the strong orgasm washed over you making your pussy squeeze his cock tightly as you gushed around him with a loud cry.

reiner kept going, his thrusts now a bit sloppy, the tightening of your warm pussy triggering his high as well. he let out a groan, riding yours and his orgasm while he pressed a deep and sloppy kiss on your open mouth. his tongue slithering in without permission, not minding your drool-covered chin as he was too preoccupied with the way you taste and the way your moans and cries vibrate against him.

as you two slowly came down your highs, loud pants were the only thing that was heard in the room. you looked up at the ceiling with dread, feeling his thick cum inside you. 'oh no, please no.' you thought, biting your lips as you thought of your husband. you have to clean up, he's going to come back tomorrow after all.

reiner kissed your neck, slowly regaining his breath as he stayed still inside of you not wanting one drop to go to waste. you lay on the bed frigid, thinking of what you will do if ever you get pregnant. you will definitely won't keep the child. it's not your husband's anyway so why the hell would you keep it. you flinched a little when you felt his lips on your neck, trying to get away as you felt disgusted at the soft feathery touch. reiner though didn't even noticed, too caught up in his head and too happy at his thoughts of finally getting you to himself.

"leave eren... be with me instead, (y/n)... we would be so happy together.." he said, leaning away a bit to smile down at you with a love-crazed and dopey grin. though the sight of his face and words made you grimace. you love your husband so much and you only did this because he was away so often that it made you lonely at night.

"no, reiner"

his brows furrowed at that, tilting his head in confusion. his body propped by his elbows as he caged you in his arms, muscles bulging out. "what? why not?"

"i just don't want to."

reiner was confused but he shook it off and retrained his smile, wanting you to feel comfortable and wanting to understand you. "you can tell me, honey. i'm your husband"

you frowned at his words and sighed, knowing damn well when he's like this you can't really talk any sense to him. he was hot and takes good care of you but he's also fucking crazy. one of the cons in this 'relationship' you guessed. "whatever... "

reiner only smiled and let you escape his grasp a little, slowly pulling out of you as he watched his cum spill from you. he tried to keep it in you with his fingers but you swatted him making him pout a little. "(y/n), marry me"

Keigo is smarter than he’d ever let you know. The disarming pro hero – your dick appointment, for lack of better words – comes off as the golden retriever boy of every fan girl’s dreams, a soft romantic with a stroke game to make you come around every now and then. He’s shown you, through dates that you spitefully argue are most definitely not dates, that he’s the kind of man that you should fall in love with. It’s what leads you to believe that you could see other people without suspicion, because even if you aren’t dating him, you can’t escape the gutting shame that comes with it.

 However, Keigo has been waiting in your hallway all night, waiting for you to come home from your date with another man, or at least that’s what he’s convinced himself was happening. What other reason could there be for your frigidness when he tells you he loves you or for you to be out so late without Keigo. You are seeing another man, he just knows it. He says he really couldn’t care who it is but when you come stumbling down the hallway, alone and still buzzed, his blood boils.

 The other man won’t even walk you to your door and somehow he’s better than Keigo? It’s a nuclear blow to his ego, one that changes his every instinct to hold you with the utmost tenderness. But maybe you don’t want the nurturing type. You don’t want the domestic Keigo he has been pretending to be for you. Why bother keeping it up when you don’t fawn over him like he deserves. Your legs wobble underneath you as you focus on the swirling ground below you, not even noticing the vibrant red wings waiting for you until you arrive at your doorstep.

 “Hawks, what the fu–" It’s easy enough for him to grab you by the wrist when you walk up, spinning you so that your chest is pressed up against the chipped paint of your front door. He releases you from his grip but his heavy body presses into yours, wings serving to trap you like a birdcage. You look up at the fluorescent lights in an attempt to avoid smashing your nose against the door.

 “Is this what you see other men for, baby,” he growls through an unwittingly gritted jaw. Your booze-rattled mind can’t yet comprehend the malice behind his touch when Keigo gropes your chest through the flimsy material of your dress. He wonders if you bought it yourself or did your other man buy it for you to wear. It doesn’t look like the type of thing he thought you’d like but Keigo figures that he never really knew what you truly liked anyways.

 “Keigo, please I’m really tired,” he wants to laugh. You still think he gives a shit about what you want. If it wasn’t so audacious to him, he might’ve been able to hold back from using his free hand to slap you. You freeze up in response. The part of your brain that screams at you to obey, that drenches your lace panties with the use of brute force, takes over and Keigo couldn’t be more pleased with you.

 “Fucking finally,” Hawks rucks up your skirt, forcing the fabric to rest exclusively around your waist. Your mind is so far gone, between the alcohol on your breath, whatever else might be in your system, and the urge to submit, that you don’t even fuss about the fact that you are practically naked in public, at the mercy of his wings to shield you from any voyeur. Your thighs part ever so slightly for him and he hasn’t even bothered to make a move for you panties yet, “all it takes is a bit of force and you’ll just spread your legs for any fucker that comes your way.”

 You whine for him, wiggling for him to touch your puffy clit, to give you just a modicum of his attention. You couldn’t have made a fatal choice. Keigo grabs your jaw, leaning in so that all of your sense focus on him and him alone, “I don’t want to hear a single fucking thing out your whore mouth. Got that, baby?”

 The contempt in his little nickname clues you in to the fact that your only option is to nod and Keigo bites back a praise rising in the back of his throat. Instead he hoists you up against the wall, forcing you to sit on his knee as he fumbles to pull his cock out of his khakis. You know better than to reach out and touch him, pretending that the ceiling is just the most captivating thing you’ve ever seen under the soundtrack of Keigo’s belt clinking. But you also can’t help but take notice of how you actually feel inclined to touch him this time, how his meanness – it makes you want to be close to him.

 In your contemplation of the irony and discrepancy of Keigo’s touch, you miss how he removes his knee, lining himself up with your clothed hole. Even with the manner in which your panties stay damp from your previous endeavors that night, the feeling of him forcing his cock inside of you, bastardizing your lace into a makeshift condom, it’s simply excruciating.

 The fabric scratches against your swollen walls and you pray, to anything really, that he will not pull out, inspect the fabric, and find the leftover cum that will surely now stain the inside of your panties. But that’s exactly what he does, sticking one finger inside the garment as soon as he’s pulled out. Keigo doesn’t say a word, an unusual silence from him. Rather, he harshly tugs your hair back, craning your neck even further, only to shove his tainted finger in your mouth and wait until you clean him off.

 “So you let other men cum inside you,” Keigo pushes your panties to the side, this time properly fucking into you and letting you feel just how good his cock is. Keigo on the other hand, feels how drenched your cunt is with another man’s seed, how shamelessly you moan on his cock. It only serves for him to push even further, snapping his hips against your ass as he gets closer to his own end. Even as riled up as he is, he still is so volatile when it comes to his own orgasm. The push of your ass against him edges on his own curiosity, “tell me, who came inside you?”

 You stutter against him, unsure of the importance in this moment. You can’t understand why he would want you to moan out the other man’s name but Keigo has bigger plans in mind. The wrapping of his hand around your throat once more, his long fingernails pressing into your skin, it’s all to say that he isn’t testing you nor is he really asking you. You know that you have to.

 “E-Enji!”

 Keigo’s hips still as he releases his load into you. A bitter pang rests in his chest, knowing that you slept with his childhood hero but he finds solace in the fact that in the exact moment you uttered the name of the man you’d rather be with, there was a fifty-fifty chance that Keigo managed to tether you to him for the rest of your miserable life.

In actuality, your husband seemed more than happy to drop you into his father’s lap, leaving you two to chat as he tended to the outdoor chores, of which there were only a couple. Even in the evening, after you served dinner, Osamu helped you clean up and offered to do the dishes, but your husband couldn’t be bothered and took a seat on the couch, putting on a game show. The looks Osamu gave you were ones of pity, but you didn’t even bother, remembering how vicious his wife would get when you mentioned anything remotely bad about her precious son. Osamu wasn’t as bad, but he didn’t do anything either, just sat back and let it happen.

Late night tea always helped you sleep, especially with a cold bed awaiting you. To no one’s surprise, your husband lay on the couch, snoring away and oblivious to the world. Thankfully, Osamu had already turned in for the night, so he didn’t witness your disgusted face when you saw your husband on the couch, a beer held loosely in his hand and another empty bottle on the table. Drank himself to sleep on the couch, again.

“Seems like you’re off on your own, again,” Osamu’s voice said, making you swivel to see the man himself, clad in what you believe to be his sleepwear, leaning against the kitchen doorway. “Seems like you’re fulfilling the role of a mother more than a wife,”

“Oh, please. I’d never be his mother. Could never compare,” you say the last part, bitterly, then apologize, trying to track back. Awfully rude to smear the reputation of his ex-wife, with him right there.

“No, no, don’t worry. I know what you mean. She was furious the day we received notice of the wedding date. She, uh, didn’t let him grow up into a good man, I’m aware,”

“Well, at least someone in this family is aware,” you gave a forced smile, still stirring you tea as steam rises from it. “I should probably drink this and get on to bed. I’m sure he’ll expect breakfast in the morning, after all,”

“Y’know, you don’t have to do all this,”

“I don’t need another argument over not being a proper wife. If my parents weren’t insistent, I’d have filed divorce papers,” you then look at him, then shrug. “Sorry, bit of a harsh note to end on,”

“Well, if you ever need somewhere to get away, come on down. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you helping out his old man and you can sit down all day, I won’t mind,”

“Hm, I might have to take you up on that offer,” you gave him another smile, one that wasn’t forced as he let you pass.

That one offer changed your life. You didn’t even need to think of divorce when your thoughts were only full of spending time with Osamu. The first time you visited alone, you expected him to actually want you working, but he actually made you food and did the dishes himself, letting you make yourself at home. After a couple more visits, you couldn’t help but realize you felt more comfortable around him than you expected, but it was welcomed in your miserable life. You don’t know why you ended up spilling your guts one night, complaining that your husband often went to a nearby bar at night, leaving you unsatisfied and then he’d come home smelling like alcohol and fruity perfume, but you were just tired of dealing with the same old bullshit. You were an unsatisfied wife and Osamu was a lonely man, it seemed almost natural for you two to end up tangled beneath the sheets.

Although, you hardly ever started in the bed or even in the bedroom.

“Such a pretty thing my son has, yet he’s too stupid to realize it,” Osamu grunts right beside your ear, all while he drills his cock into you. His grip on your hips might be bruising, but you’d never tell him to stop, not when he’s putting stars in your vision with each hard thrust he assaults you with. Each drag of his cock against your walls makes your wails and cries even louder, fingers digging into his shoulders as that’s the only thing keeping you grounded. At this point, he’ll end up breaking the couch and need to get a new one if his thrusts don’t cease in ferocity. “Dumb little thing, can’t even think straight,”

“No, no, no,” you blabber, throwing your head back as he rubs against that sweet spot deep inside you that has your eyes rolling. Clenching around him, he just chuckles as one hand leaves your hip, going between your legs to rub at your clit. Even the briefest of touches has your legs shaking, back arching as you grit your teeth from another onslaught of spine tingling pleasure. Drool spills from your lips as you open your mouth, trying to say something and ending up with nothing, just more high pitched moans.

Even as the table buzzes, your phone lighting up with your husband’s name, you’re oblivious as you ride your high on Osamu’s cock, completely locking your legs around his waist as he keep his hips moving, making sure you’re not denied a single second of pleasure. He doesn’t need to ask where you want his cum, you always want it pumped inside of you after you felt what it was like for the first time. Painting your walls white once more, he makes sure to go as deep as he can, bringing your face forward as he gives you a deep kiss, your phone finally going silent.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, you won’t even think about leaving,” he whispers, but he knows you’re not planning on going anywhere anytime soon, not with 20 missed calls from your husband and his cum gushing from the sides of your abused cunt.