Him

Him <3

group: xikers

pair: seeun x fem!reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, crushes

word count: 863

content: fluff 🥹🩷 (as always, yk me), a few lil swears

a/n: felt bad being so ia, so I quickly finished up this draft! Enjoy!!

Your soft sobs were suddenly caught in your throat after hearing a soft “Y/n?” being called through the door to your room. You hurriedly rubbed your sweater sleeve over your tear stained cheeks just in time for the door to crack open and Seeun to peek his head in.

“H-Hey, why’re you here?” You squeaked out, trying to sound as normal as possible. Not normal sounding enough, apparently, as the tall boy quickly rushed over to sit beside you on the bed.

“I don't think you're in a space to be asking questions…” he chuckled softly, his arm snaking around your shoulder to pull you gently against him, “...why the waterworks?” You forced out a giggle, resting a hand against your best friend's chest and looking up at his surprisingly worried expression.

“It's nothing, really…” He sighed as you dropped your head again, his hand now gently rubbing up and down your arm as a way to comfort you.

“It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it…but I'm staying right here…” His voice was so gentle, and yet it pierced so deeply into your heart that you felt the painful sting of tears in your eyes once again. His grip on your shoulder tightened as you suddenly choked back a sob.

“I-I just don't get it…” You sobbed, and he leaned forward a little to get a glimpse at your face, using his other hand to gently swipe some hair away from your forehead and behind your ear. “W-Why…”

“Why what…?” He asked, his voice laced with a genuine worry that had your heart breaking and your stomach doing somersaults simultaneously.

You responded with silence, a few seconds passing before his voice cut through, a little lower and more serious this time.

“Is this about him again?”

Him. The word you always used to refer to your crush when you were ranting to Seeun. A boy that Seeun knew all about from the way you'd fawn over him, fangirl over him, and even complain about him. Little did Seeun know that this him in question that he'd give you advice for and talk shit about sometimes…was himself.

You nodded slowly and Seeun’s grip on you tightened slightly as he clicked his tongue.

“That ass. I swear y/n, how many times does he have to make you cry like this for you to see he's not worth it?”

Your glossy, puffy, red eyes meet his and you speak up, a slight crack to your words.

“That's the problem, though…He is worth it. He's beyond worth it. He keeps reminding me why I fell for him in the first place even if he doesn't realise it…”

Your gaze was almost burning holes into his as you spoke, his deep brown eyes reflecting back at you with complicated emotions that you couldn't quite place.

“He's just…” your eyes scanned over the boy's face in front of you, his every feature showing love and care for you that made your heart race every time, “...too dense to realise my feelings for him.”

Seeun sighed, his hand rubbing up and down your arm comfortingly.

“He's stupid. The most perfect girl is right in front of him, screaming for him to notice her, and he does nothing.”

You chuckle wryly, sighing almost exhaustedly.

“...You're right…you are stupid…”

“Huh…?”

You drop your head in your hands, giggling weakly as your face heats up red.

“You're so stupid, Park Seeun…”

“W-What? Why me?” He asked confusedly. You lifted your head to look at him, a bitter-sweet smile on your face.

“You just said it yourself.”

His expression only grew more perplexed as you spoke.

“I-I said he was stupid.” He stated, thinking that you must've heard him incorrectly.

“Yup, I know. And yes…you are.”

You watched as the gears in his began to turn, his confused eyes slowly turning to those of realisation and fluster.

“O-Oh. Yeah. You're right, I am.” You couldn't help but notice the way his ears almost immediately went bright red, making your grin widen. You burst into laughter, your body leaning into his, making his other arm wrap around you and cradle you.

“I can't believe the amount of times you called yourself a dumbass without any idea…” You laughed, making him swat your arm playfully.

“Please forget everything I've ever said to you about him. Pretty please.” He leaned closer, nuzzling his forehead against your hair.

“Ha! Not a chance.” You responded, earning a chuckle from him in his deep, quiet voice right above you that reverberated through you and made your stomach twist into knots.

“When I gain super powers and learn how to erase people's memories, you'll be my first victim.”

You giggle wildly, snuggling even closer to him and earning another adoring chuckle from him. His arms tightened around you before pulling you back to sink into the mattress together, forcing another laugh from the both of you as you tangled together in a playful and shy fit of giggles. You felt like a whole weight had been lifted off your chest and you knew you'd never feel as happy as you do anywhere else bit in his arms like that.

-

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TAGLIST: @chocoeon @hyunukitty @cake1box @chiiyuuvv @shortnstupid @dogyunslover

Adorable 😍🤭

SILLY ME TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU | SUNG HANBIN

-

-

WHAT ! - while celebrating your boyfriends birthday, you give him a special gift

WHEN ! - (warnings) kissing, petnames, sappy juls 😇

WHO ! - non capitalization is intended , literally happiest birthday to my baby hanbin ☹️

-

11:57 PM

Your phone illuminates as your boyfriend sleeps peacefully. You two have been dating for about 2 years and for those 2 birthdays that you spent with him, he’s been very casual about his day. He always just wanted to spend it with family and you, which you were okay with. But since debuting he decided he wanted to have a little peace and quiet, away from cameras, away from his members, away from everything but his safe space, you.

It was the first time he ever really requested something outside of just going to dinner, he wanted a weekend getaway which you gladly (and behind his back, he wasn't very happy about that but in your defense, it's his birthday 😒) paid for. Through these 2 years he has never failed to make you feel loved even on the days he couldn’t love himself and you made sure to reciprocate the same with the hopes that this year's gift would always remind him how much you appreciate him. Lighting up the candles on the cake you secretly got for him, you returned to the room. Opening the door quietly, meeting his peacefully sleeping figure you start singing Happy Birthday. Hanbin being the light sleeper he is woke up a bit startled making you laugh, he rubbed his eyes and once he processed the sight in front of him he sat up quickly and his lips quirked up even quicker. When you finished singing he closed his eyes making a wish then blew out the candles “Happy birthday binnie” you said as you put the cake on the nightstand and sat down next to him, moving the stray hairs out of his face. He stares at you with big eyes filled with adoration before speaking up “Thank You, baby”. you pause for a moment before getting up and digging into your suitcase.

“What are you doing?” Hanbin asked confused and a bit whiny as his right side was now cold. You pulled out a wrapped gift and sat down next to him again. He looked up at you with a scolding face. “heyyyy” he whined stretching out the ‘y’. “I thought we said no more gifts, I appreciate this a lot baby, but you already paid for the whole trip and it’s too much-“ you cut him off with a kiss. “I didn't spend any money on this, just open it hm?”, his eyes darted to the gift then back to you confused about what you were doing. Carefully unwrapping the gift to not ruin the paper he pulls out a journal. he looks back at you for what feels like the millionth time to which you roll your eyes playfully “Just look at the gift!”. He laughs at your eagerness and admires the decorated cover, he turns the cover to the first page and sees some stickers, a Polaroid of you two, some hamster pictures, and more pictures of you two with writing in the middle “to sung hanbin :-)”. flipping the next page he sees a short paragraph

-

“Hi, binnie !!

this is the first day I'm writing this page, it's 1-01-23.

every day I will be writing something about you, whether it's points of why I love you, paragraphs recapping my day after hanging out with you, me appreciating you, or just me scrapbooking us.

every day I will be doing this until I give it to you.

I hope you still love me by then but enjoy my love :-)”

-

He scoffed at the last paragraph and kissed your cheek “I'll always love you.”

-

He flipped to the next page and saw it was a paragraph from the same day

1-01-23 marked in the corner

“I couldn’t wait to write the first entry so here we are,

today is the first time I've spent New Year's with someone other than my family and I think I realized something today. I love you, I always knew that I felt something for you while we were dating but I could never pinpoint it. that flutter I got in my heart when you would hold my hand, or that beating in my chest when you would look at me in my eyes and call me ‘beautiful’. all of these feelings I felt for you but I never really thought about it

I guess that's what happens when you're in love, you forget love is even a thing because it's not the idea of love you're focused on but rather the person. I never had to think about whether I loved you or not because I guess it was instinctive? in a way it sort of feels like you were made for me, all of our inside jokes, how your hand fits perfectly in mine, and how you can read me and tell how I'm feeling before I even do.

like I said I knew I always loved you, but tonight it was different. how you kissed me when the new year hit and looked at me afterward. like I was the only person you had ever seen before, it was the look in your eye and the way you told me you loved me that made my heart shift, THAT was my movie moment. the things you only see in films or fiction but thank you for making it a reality hanbin

to many more years :-)

your truly, y/n “

-

he closed the book and gently set it down next to him and stared at his lap. you put your hand under his chin and he stared at you with that same look in his eyes from New Year's, except this time with tears. he hugged you tightly and whispered gently “I love you” and “Thank you” ‘s

After wiping his tears, you two just talk about your trip so far and what you want to do the next day while eating cake before he pauses. “you know what Yujin told me a few weeks ago?” he said while putting a piece of cake in his mouth. “hm?” you responded while eating your cake

“hamsters lick you as a form of kissing”

“they do?”

just then you feel a piece of frosting get wiped on your face. turning to look at the culprit he smiles and sticks his tongue out like a cat

“HANBIN NO”

safe to say that night was filled with love and giggles :’-)

This was life-changing and the ending!?

outlaw

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you wish there would be a time you could call your life boring again. before all the mess, before the town fell apart, before your father disowned you. before jeong yunho. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: wild west theme, cowboy!yunho, bartender!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: praising, claiming, dacryphilia, marking, size kink, oral, unprotected sex, outdoor sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: violence, weapons, alcohol consumption, murder, slight gore, attempted SA 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: django performance might be the reason why i switched from hongjoong to yunho after four years of being loyal. NOT PROOFREAD I AM IMPATIENT I HAD TO POST IT BEFORE GOING TO BED! <3

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"another one, sweetheart."

i'm not your sweetheart, you wanted to mutter. but you bit your tongue, remembering that your father is somewhere in the room. so you have no other choice but to approach the loud, messy table, and pour the greasy dirty man another glass of whatever alcohol you had in hand. it didn't matter anymore, as long as it filled his stomach.

"that's a good girl," he roars with laughter, heavy hand landing on your bottom and making you jolt.

your eyes seek your father, silently asking for help. but no help comes. instead, he points to a different table that demands attention, and leaves the saloon. you stand still, voices muffling around you. your neatly put bun is now falling apart, strands loose on your face and sticking due to sweat, your clothes are heavy on you, and your hands will soon start shaking if you don't take a break from all the work. from early mornings, to even earlier ones the next day, you are destined to be a servant on your own father's property. you wonder if this will last forever. pouring alcohol, dodging flying chairs and tables, taking the harassment so you can survive for another month.

if this really is your future, then what is the point of living? will he marry you off to one of these men? or will he keep you as his servant until the end of his days? you remember the day everything changed for you. you had just come back from the city, finishing the school day. barely a teen, hand in hand with your best friends. your father sat you in the empty saloon, putting his hands on your shoulders.

"you're quitting school."

just a month after you buried your mother, he told you that. there was nobody to help him, he had to fire his staff, and laid his trust into you. the business was crazy that week. who wouldn't want to come and see the owner's little daughter serving alcohol? those men congratulated your father on your birth, watched you play on the street, went to your mother's funeral and wailed with you, came to the saloon to see you struggle with bottles and glasses, only later to have their filthy hands all over you as soon as you turned eighteen. it doesn't stop, no matter how many times you ask. the pleading only makes them do it more, those sick bastards. and each one of them have a wife waiting at home, and a child comforting her.

"hey, bitch, over here!"

monday was a peaceful day. no work, not at the saloon at least. but a basket full of dirty old clothes awaits by the door, waiting to be washed. it is a cold autumn morning, the sun very low in the sky and not warming at all. you drag your feet across the field, hands red from the weight of the basket and the frost. your dress catches onto various branches and bushes, but you do not look back. you need to be done before noon, so you can make lunch for your father.

reaching the river, you drop the basket on the dying grass. a few flowers are still scattered here and there, fighting their way through the cold morning dew. as you scrub your father's shirt on the washboard, you notice just how old those clothes have gotten. you both need new ones, you cannot be walking around looking like the poorest people in town, while owning a saloon. but your father sees no value in those things. talking to him is like talking to a wall that might hit you if you say something it doesn't like. so you keep your mouth shut.

the used, thin washboard suddenly snaps under your hands, a piece of wood jamming into your skin and making you yelp. your skin being almost frozen from being in cold water, and then getting pierced, makes you finally break down. you hug your knees to your chest, and bury your head into the muddy dress. you're cold, in pain, and you miss your mother. your friends. the life you had, and the life you were supposed to have.

sometimes, you selfishly blamed your mother for dying. if she was still here, you could've had a life just like your friends. finding a job in the big city, a man too, a decent one. not this.

you hide your hands in the ruffles of your worn out dress, seeking warmth. you cannot go back home without washing the rest of the clothes, and the sun is rising faster than you want it to. noon will come by soon, and you will have two tasks unfinished. your father won't be pleased.

a distant neigh and galloping have your attention, your head curiously turning to see who it could be. your heart almost sinks when you see the speed the horses are headed at towards you, but with legs and bum frozen on the ground, you cannot move. all you can do is close your eyes in defeat, hoping for the best.

the gallop stops, now switching to a trot. you open your eyes, and see two shiny horses in front of you. the two men riding them dismount, one of them standing next to his horse and taking the leash from the other one. the taller man adjusts his hat, gaze fixed on the floor, and fastens his holster. you gulp, seeing the shiny revolver resting on his hip. then, he raises his head to finally look at you. you almost forget the potential danger of the situation once you look at his brown eyes. he is tall. very tall. and absolutely gorgeous. you look away, suddenly aware of how you look. heavens, what a perfect timing.

"oh, it's just a doe." he says, voice soft and sweet. he tilts his head, trying to get you to look at him. when you don't, he takes a step closer to you, careful not to scare you away. "came for a morning refreshment?"

you don't respond. instead, you look at the man behind him. he stands still, leashes in his hands. his clothes are a bit more rugged than the ones on the man in front of you, but it fits his image very well. then, your eyes betray you end lay on the man in front of you again. he wears a brown leather jacket with fringes, dark blue jeans, and matching brown boots. his brown hat sits perfectly on his head, giving him a mysterious look. he notices you staring, and only chuckles softly. he reaches into his saddlebag, retrieving something wrapped in a white cloth.

"hungry?"

this time, your stomach is the one that betrays you. it decides to grumble as soon as you shake your head no, making the man chuckle again.

"go on, you can have it. you look like you need it."

he holds it out for you to take, closing the distance further. you step back, remembering your father's words.

"no speaking to other men outside of the saloon. if i see you do that, i will personally declare you a whore. nobody will want to marry you, and you'll be alone for the rest of your life."

charming. the man doesn't give up, as he steps further towards you. you step back again, hunger, fear and curiosity fighting inside of you and making you sick to your stomach.

"it's alright. it's just food, i don't mean you any harm."

but he doesn't know what words ring inside your head. taking another step back, your heart almost stops once again. you have stepped into the shallow river, your body losing balance following. the handsome cowboy drops the item on the floor, and firmly grabs your waist and pulls you back to stand on the grass. you instinctively grab onto his shoulders for support, and he pulls your body into his. you breathe out when your chest collides with his, overwhelmed by the situation.

"clumsy girl," he teases.

you can't make yourself move, not only because you don't want to, but because his grip is firm on your waist. he safely moves you away from the water and removes one hand from your body, only to move the loose strands of hair from your face.

"wyatt," he calls.

the other man steps towards the two of you, not uttering a word.

"you go on. i'll catch up with you."

without protest, he gets on his horse, nods towards his companion, then gallops away. you are left alone with the ridiculously handsome cowboy, now feeling a bit warmer than a few moments ago. the man finally lets go of you, picking up the cloth from the ground. a distant thunder surprises you, and you look over at the scattered clothes. the black clouds over the mountains are covering the blue sky quite fast, and it just seems at this moment that everything is working against you.

you hurriedly collect the remaining dirty clothes, crouching down and brushing it against the half of the washboard as best as you can. your hand is in pain, still dripping red, but your father's consequences are more painful. you'd rather have a hundred more splinters ripping your skin than your father slapping you across the face like he is used to.

the man lets you finish, turning his attention to the horse. in the corner of your eye, you see him caressing the horse's mane. the animal leans into his hand, enjoying the comfort of his warm and caring touch. he looks so tough, yet his actions are a complete opposite.

"if you're done staring, you can join me."

caught red handed, and red cheeked, you turn around to see him sat under the nearby tree, opening the white cloth. he sets it on the ground near him, and folds his arms across his chest. you pick up the now clean clothes, the broken washboard forgotten and floating somewhere further down the field. you sit next to him, the food serving as an imaginary border. he takes his hat off, putting it over his face and rests his head against the tree.

"if you're embarrassed to eat in front of me. now i won't look. eat. please."

and you do. you take a bite of the biscuit, enjoying it like it's your first one ever. you take the chance now that he doesn't see anything to properly look around. his horse is gorgeous, white with brown legs and head. you then look at its owner, still chewing on the biscuit. the more you look at him, the more your stomach feels all fuzzy. is this what it feels like to be attracted to a man? are you finally experiencing a crush?

you should really get home.

thunder grumbles again, causing the horse to become restless.

"shh, you're good." the cowboy says soothingly, not moving from his spot. and the horse listens.

it soothes you too, because you lean against the tree like him, and silently eat. your breathing matches his, and for a moment, you think that he has fallen asleep. until you start feeling drops of rain on your head. you don't say anything. you don't really need to, because the man interrupts his short break by standing up and putting his hand out for you to take. you take it, your hand melting into his as he helps you up. his touch is secure, and gentle. nobody has ever held you this way, and you are afraid you might get used to it. he leads you to his horse, throwing his spare jacket your way.

"i'll take you home."

"no!"

the cowboy scrunches his eyebrows, and abruptly turns towards you. his hand doesn't leave yours, no matter how hard you pull. "she speaks." he says, as if he made an important discovery.

you shake your head frantically, repeating yourself. "no, you can't."

"why?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"because."

"that's not a valid answer, sunshine."

if your stomach wasn't turning from the difficult situation you have found yourself in, it would turn from the simple nickname coming from his mouth. you aren't quite sure whether you're feeling nervous because of your father, or because of the handsome stranger. you remember that he is just a stranger, no matter in how much awe he has you. if you get on his horse, he could take you anywhere. but if you don't get on his horse, he could simply tie you up and take you with him anyway.

fuck.

"i like to walk." you blurt out, grabbing the basket of clothes and holding it in front of you, as if shielding yourself from him.

"lies."

"please, just leave me alone. thank you for the food, and for, well, not letting me fall into the water, but-"

"does he beat you every day?"

he says it with a tone so serious it has your blood going cold in your veins. his gaze becomes stone cold, dark, and it pierces right through you. seeing your distressed face, he steps towards you again, moving your hair away from your neck. the bruise you thought you so cleverly hid now uncovered in front of him. funny how a potentially dangerous stranger shows more interest in it than the town.

"or only when you do something wrong?"

"i don't see how that's any of your business."

"it isn't. however, if you want it to stop, you might have to make it my business."

you wish for nothing more than for it to stop. but exactly how does this man plan to make it his business? talk to your father? teach him a lesson? or the worst?

"i'll tell you what. i'll bring you just to the hill so nobody sees us, and you think about what i said until then."

you nod, defeated. you really need to get home as quick as possible and get started on the lunch. the cowboy helps you up on the horse, then climbs behind you. this is the closest you've ever been to a man, and if you weren't sneakily reading those short romance stories in the back of the discarded newspaper, you would think that you are becoming ill by how hot your cheeks feel. when he grabs the leash, also helping you hold the basket in the process, you take your time to admire his hands. pretty pale fingers, slightly muddy from maybe hours or days of riding. he smells of whiskey, vanilla and a hint of tobacco. you allow yourself a moment of weakness, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent. it doesn't help the way his warm chest and torso are pressed against your back, rubbing against you with each horses gallop.

when you open your eyes, you are disappointed to see the hill. it means that the short little adventure with the mystery cowboy has come to an end, and that you might never see him again. it's all up to you. and you hate that.

he helps you down, then fixes the ruffles of your dress that were slightly turned upwards from riding while you are occupied with the clothes in the basket.

"well?" he finally says, seeing that you have no intention of speaking first.

"i'll be fine." you lie.

you almost miss the way he bites the inside of his cheek from disappointment. almost. he nods, understandingly, and approaches you. for the last time, maybe. he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the place where your splinter is. "take care of that. wouldn't want such pretty hands to be in pain or have a scar."

he kisses the back of it, eyes not once leaving yours. you almost shiver, from the cold and from his touch.

"thank you for your company, dove. we must part ways now, but i do hope i see you again one day. you are too pretty to forget."

he takes his hat off to say his goodbye, then climbs back on his horse. with a sweet smile and a nod, he gallops away. you stand there and watch, heart swelling with sadness. you watch and watch, until he becomes just a small little dot in the distance.

weeks pass, and your life dynamic does not change. you still serve drunk perverts, avoid sexual offers, cook, and freeze yourself by the river. only now, you wake up earlier than usual, and keep looking at your surroundings in hopes of seeing a familiar brown hat. but you never see it. it's been almost two months, and not a single sign from him. maybe for the best. he did look like bad news. very handsome bad news.

you currently sit in a dark corner in the saloon, reading last weeks newspaper for the romance update on the last page. the appearance of the main character morphs into the cowboy in your head. no longer short, blonde haired with blue eyes and bulk figure, but dark haired with a short mullet, with brown eyes and a slender figure. you didn't even catch his name, yet you shamelessly daydream about him.

the doors of the saloon aggressively swing, startling you and breaking your bubble. you turn the newspaper upside down, hiding your little secret. a young man, known as denver, stands at the entrance, face pure horror. your father approaches him, putting his hands on his shoulders to calm him down.

"what's wrong, boy?"

denver barely gets his sentence out, before countless gallops are heard outside, accompanied with various screams. "he's here."

"who is?"

"the stallion."

you have never seen your father scared. and that scared you even more. he took a step back, abandoning the young man. the saloon became a mess, everyone pushing each other on the way to the exit, but suddenly coming to a halt. you stand up, taking your place behind the bar. the people are stepping back, slowly, still facing towards the doors. they separate in two groups, making way for the intruder. and when your eyes land on the intruder, you swear your heart could jump right on the bar in front of you.

your cowboy, your mystery man, the man you prayed you'd see again, stands in your saloon. drenched in blood and dust, sweaty, and with a revolver in his hand. the look on his face when he sees you tells you that you weren't meant to see him in this state. but he doesn't say anything. instead, he approaches the bar, along with his companions. they are all a mess, but not as much as him.

"good day, darling."

your stomach twists again, and you have to fight the urge to smile. you can't smile, not when everyone around you is terrified. you clear your throat, collecting any stray thoughts before speaking. "good day, sir."

"two rooms. and two bottles of whiskey waiting for me tonight." he says, a sweet smile on his lips.

"uh, yes-"

"there are no rooms available for you." your father interrupts, making his way to the bar.

the cowboy raises his eyebrow, then looks at your father. "oh?"

"yes. so i'm afraid you'll have to call it a day here."

the young man chuckles, eyes returning to your face. he throws a roll of money on the counter, then pushes is towards your father with his stained revolver. "don't be afraid, we won't."

you feel caged by his gaze, afraid to even move. why are you here, you wanted to ask. and why do you look like that. his clothes might look different, but the look on his face when he looks at you stays the same. in the corner of your eye, you notice someone trying to exit sneakily. but the cowboy also seems to catch it, because he points his trusted weapon toward the ceiling and-

"argh!" the woman screams, pure fear painted on her face.

"nobody leaves, until i get two fucking rooms and two bottles of whiskey. have i made myself clear?" he slams the revolver on the counter, causing you to jolt and step back. "now, if your pretty little daughter said that i can have them, just why the fuck are you meddling?"

defeated, your father takes the money, then nods your way. "show them."

alone?, you wanted to ask. but your tongue feels swollen, and your jaw heavy. you don't say anything. instead, you look at the fearsome cowboy, then proceed upstairs. the three of them follow, not uttering a word. you reach the rooms, opening the doors for them to see. the cowboy nods towards the room, sending them a signal to go in. when the two finally close the door, the dark haired man wastes no time in softly pinning you against the wall, just between the two doors.

"there, there. are you that scared of me, sunshine?"

you swear your eyes couldn't get any wider, and you hate it. you must look like a freak to him. but if you do, he doesn't show any disgust. he removes your hair from your neck once again, letting it fall down your back. his knuckles caress the now yellow spot on the neck, the bruise slowly healing.

his eyes shift from the bruise to your eyes, his gaze softening. "not excited to see me?"

you gulp, figuring which words to use. you are, and you are not. you don't even know.

"that's okay."

his other hand find its spot on the back of your head, slightly tilting it so that the injured side of the neck is more exposed. you feel his warm breath against your skin, growing hotter and closer. you finally let out a noise, it being a whimper rather than a proper word or sentence. soft lips graze your skin, before his tongue delicately swipes across your bruise. your stomach has never felt fuzzier, and your head is in the clouds. all those butterflies you felt while reading the newspaper have now turned into a volcano, waiting to erupt any second. the cowboy continues giving attention to your now sensitive neck, having you tremble in his arms.

he notices, putting his other hand on your waist and pushing you further into the wall, silently ordering you to stay still. he leans his own body into you, warm sensation enveloping you and causing you to moan into his ear.

realizing your horrible mistake, your hands quickly find their way to his firm chest, in an attempt to push him away. but instead, your fingers grip the fabric of his ruined leather jacket, and your head falls completely in his control. his hand massages your scalp, all while his tongue never leaves you. he switches from tender kisses, to kitten licks, and if he doesn't stop soon, you might just drip all over the floor and his shoes. 

as if he heard you, he delivers one final kiss, before he pulls away. "i'll see you downstairs at dinner. thank you for the room, dove. and for the lunch."

hearing the door slam shut, you can finally breathe normally. you are left to tremble against the wall, your neck and underwear wet, all because of him. you rush to one of the empty rooms, at the end of the hallway. you lock it, then toss yourself on the bed. you waste no time in flipping your dress over, your fingers finding the soft folds between your legs. you gasp, more at the state of it than the feeling. you are soaked, your fingers almost slipping from your folds.

you spend a worrying amount of time trying to please yourself somehow, but the buildup is just growing and growing, not giving any signs of erupting soon. no matter how much you picture your handsome cowboy, just a few doors away.

and you don't even know his name.

"did he touch you?"

"what?!"

"i'm serious. did he do anything to you?"

"father-" since when do you care? "he didn't!"

he continues to follow you while you serve the guests, asking questions and demanding to know the truth. "did he say anything?"

"like?"

"anything."

"he asked for a prostitute and i said i'm available tonight."

smack.

nobody turns, already used to your father's free will. you bite the inside of your now stinging hot  cheek, wishing for nothing more than to hit him with the bottle of gin you had in your hand.

"fucking slut. just like your mother. give me that." he yanks the tray from your hands, causing two glasses to fall and shatter. "pick that up, and go to the stables."

"but it's dinner time-"

"judith will help me. go. now."

not only do you end up not eating yourself, but you don't see the man whose lips you're still feeling on you. maybe that's why your father told you to leave, just so you don't see him. is it possible that he knows today isn't the first time you see the cowboy?

you search for his horse, the one you thought was the prettiest one you've seen. but it's not in the stable.

"it got shot. he had to put her down." slowly getting used to sudden intrusions, you turn around. one of his companions sit on a block of hay.

"oh." is all you manage to say.

"a shame, really. especially because she was a present from his wife."

"what?" you turn around, the bucket of carrots falling from your hands.

"ah, he didn't tell you? why would he. he wouldn't be able to get into your pants if you knew he was married. haven't you noticed something shiny on his finger?"

no, no you haven't. because you were so mesmerized by his face and behavior you didn't question whether he has someone waiting for him at home. besides, a married man wouldn't... touch you the way he did?

"ah, poor thing. you thought he had a thing for you? you don't compare to his wife. he's an outlaw after all, our yunho. his wife is a perfect match for him, almost a female version of him. did you know that the bounty on her head is higher than his?"

you feel like you could throw up. from multiple reasons. you let a married man touch you. hell, you touched yourself to a married man. not just an ordinary man, but an outlaw? what if his wife finds out? is she really that dangerous? will you be next on her victim list? not able to contain the emotions any longer, you run to the corner, bending over the blocks of hay and puking on the floor.

"ah, there, there. i'm quite surprised, that was the calmest reaction yet. other women tend to jump at his throat immediately."

other women? the ground sways under your feet, threatening to crumble and swallow you.

"since you're not in a state to speak, i'll answer all the questions in your head. have a seat, please."

you finally take a good look at the man once you sit down, seeing him stand up in front of you. he's no less handsome than the cowboy, yunho, and he is older. but the somewhat evil smirk on his face is off putting. you hold the now empty bucket in your lap, carrots laying on the ground for the horses to feast on. just in case you feel sick again.

"see, while yunho does love his dear wife, she can be a bit of a handful for him. too... dominant for him, one could say. so he seeks submissiveness in other women, just like you. women who are the opposite to lori, women who are, well, nothing. much like you."

his words shoot at your heart, and you know he is right. it just feels disappointing to hear it out loud. were you really a nothing?

"he sleeps with them and whatever, and kindly robs them while they sleep from exhaustion. the rest of us do the same with others, not to worry. it's rude to exclude, don't you think? you know, you should really pay more attention to that notice board next to your house. my head is the third one from the left, right under the mighty stallion."

"why would you tell me this? what's in it for you?"

"my, you speak! what's in it for me? nothing, if i'm being honest. i just happen to be aware of the treatment your father gives you, and i guess the years are starting to catch up to me. i think i feel pity."

"you're going to ask for something in return, aren't you?"

"clever girl, you are." he crouches in front of you, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. "give me what you wanted to give yunho."

"i didn't want to-"

"you think i'm dumb? like you? i know that if he had only asked you, you would've jumped in his bed right away. therefore, i tell you, give me what i ask."

"no."

the older man scoffs, then stands up again. his hand remains on your cheek, but his thumb stops caressing it. he removes it, only to bring it back with a slap. losing balance, you fall on the ground. the man doesn't give you any time to process what just happened, grabbing you by your shoulders and throwing you on the pile of hay. you open your mouth, letting out a scream that gets cut off by his lips on your mouth. they feel greasy, reeking of onion and beef, not remotely close to yunho's.

your hands are trapped above your head, his hand holding it in place while his other one struggles with the layers of your dress and apron. you kick, as fast and hard as you can, but you only manage to piss him off. he pulls away, only to spit in your face.

"i bet you wouldn't give yunho a hard time like this. why do all women have to be so difficult? all i want to do is make you feel good, baby."

tears stream down your face, words stuck in your throat. even though nothing is blocking your mouth anymore, you don't speak.

"you know, if you just let me... i'd get rid of your father for good. i could take you with me, i'd make you feel good any time you ask. i could-"

his words are left hanging in the air, and you feel hot liquid splash over your face. the shooting noise catches up to you right after the man's body falls on you, lifeless. you finally scream, lungs hurting from the amount of it. your hands fly to your face, wiping off the liquid and staring at it. red drips down your hands, onto your neck, pure terror filling your body as you realize you have someone's remains all over you. short and fast breaths leave your mouth, chest compressed under his heavy figure. it is not until another figure pulls him off you, and puts his hand over your mouth with hushing noises.

"it's alright, love." you recognize the voice as wyatt's, who then helps you up. "hey, you're fine."

you're not. you do not know who to trust. then again, when you don't trust your own father, why bother?

"let's get you washed."

after splashing your face with cold water and wiping it with his handkerchief, wyatt helps you to the back entrance of the saloon, then goes back to the stables. probably to finish the business.

you find yourself laying in the guest bed again, only this time, the sheets aren't wet from arousal, but from tears. you spend at least two hours, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling . you feel dirty, still feeling his dirty hands all over you. your fingers hesitantly touch your face, afraid that you'll stain them red again. your dress and apron still have droplets of now brown liquid. is this what yunho does? is that why he looked the way he did when he entered the saloon? only the blood on his clothes was still red, still very fresh.

if what the dead man said was true, then you best stay out of the cowboy's way. and just like that, your secret little romance story has turned into a horror one.

the next few days, you don't see yunho much. you see the prostitutes coming down from the top floor, sometimes two or three of them at a time. and you are disgusted. you only see him at breakfast, from afar, and he doesn't show much interest in approaching you. his companions surround him, making the frown on his face bigger every day. were they discussing the strategy of robbing the town? was there something in their way?

for a split second, the man catches your gaze. his eyes soften, and you swear you could see a faint smile on his lips. but you couldn't return it. not when you know the intentions behind it. the soft look is replaced by confusion, which grows even bigger when you only spare him an ice cold glance and move on with your work.

saturday evening, the saloon is full. it is foggy, reeks of cigarettes and alcohol, and is loud. you don't see him or his crew yet, and you are thankful for it. at least one evening of peace. so far.

"it's kind of disappointing, you know? i mean, the sex is amazing. well, you know. you had him yesterday. but it's so sad that the town fears him and wants him dead. wouldn't mind having a piece of that every day. my body is burning, and it's been two days, but i still want more."

"i know, right? what a shame. i wish he'd stick around longer. i don't know about you, but i love that thrill of knowing that he's an outlaw. a wanted man, a gorgeous wanted man, having his way with me? i don't think anything will top that. i mean, did you see his-"

"another drink?" you interrupt, not able to listen anymore.

they giggle among each other before handing you the downed glasses. the saloon quiets down when they hear thuds coming from the stairs. you regret looking up, eyes immediately locking with familiar brown ones. everyone seems to watch their step, ready to get up and free a table if yunho desires it. oh, the amount of power he holds. that isn't supposed to make you feel some type of way. you're supposed to hate him.

but how, when he approaches you so politely, tucking that loose piece of hair that's been bothering you all evening behind your ear. such a simple gesture, which awakes the oceans in you, and probably means nothing to him. just a foreplay, before he finally cages you and fulfills his plans.

slowly, but surely, the music goes on. the people are relaxed once they see yunho doesn't have any thirst for blood tonight.

"gin."

"right away."

the night goes on, with you tending to everyone. and the cowboy follows you with his eyes, so much that the two women at the bar near him start throwing themselves at him just to get his attention.

"say, when are we going to have fun again?"

"yeah, stallion. did you forget us already?"

yunho chuckles, seeing you approach the other side of the bar and mouth their words with a mocking face. you hear him, raising your head enough to look at him. caught red handed, you only awkwardly press your lips in a thin line, continuing to wash the dirty glasses.

"you were never really ones to remember," yunho simply says, bringing the glass to his lips and downing the drink in one go.

he stands up, not sparing the women a glance even after they audibly gasp and start murmuring among each other. he approaches your father, saying something into his ear, then looks at you once again before disappearing upstairs.

"here," a clean washcloth lands on the bar counter by the end of the night.

"what?"

"that cowboy, stallion. he needs a bath."

"so? he can get his own washcloths. why do i need to- oh."

"yeah, oh. we haven't had a single man in a while, so there was no need for edith. now you can go fill her position."

great.

you knock on the door, and use the other hand to fix your hair before you hear him say come in. you do as told, two washcloths secure in your hand as you go deeper in the room. it takes everything in you to stand still not collapse from the sight. his clothes are carelessly dumped on the floor, and he lays still in the wooden basin filled with water. the place is steamy, the fireplace keeping the winter cold away. yunho has his arms hanging from the basin, and his head resting against the edge. the steam has caused his hair to stick to his face, which was shiny. droplets of sweat roll down his neck and into the water, and you think that is the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.

he is so manly, so handsome, and so...

"you gonna stand there and watch while i slowly cook myself into a stew here?"

he is fresh shaven, that is the first thing you notice when you approach him. he lazily opens his eyes, the hot water having relaxed his muscles a bit more than he wanted to. "right, sorry."

you wet one washcloth, then wrap it around a bar of soap. you haven't done this since... ever. yes, you helped wash your sick cousin. but she was sick, and it was different. this? having a whole man naked right in front of you, and you were supposed to touch him?

"go on. i don't bite. not unless you want to."

"i really don't." you murmur, finally pressing the soap against his hot skin.

you exhale, your heart threatening to escape from your chest and jump into the basin with the cowboy. a thin layer of fabric is all that is in the way of you finally feeling him the way you wanted. a fabric that could so easily just slip from your fingers, and you accidentally touch him. and he likes it. and he acts on it. and-

"i see you breaking your back down there. every day. with your father, with all those perverts, with all those jealous women. you deserve better. my offer still stands, you know?"

"i'm fine," you say, just like last time.

"give yourself some time to think."

the next half hour is quiet. peaceful sounds of the wood cracking, water dripping, and yunho's calm breathing. his eyes are locked on you, and you are sweating as much as him, only for different reasons. you fear that he can read your mind, figure out just how naughty the images in your head are getting. but when it gets to a certain point, you are reminded of that night, and you stop. that bastard has stolen your first kiss, and almost stole your first time. if anything, you are thankful that yunho has brought wyatt with him.

"uh... can you sit up straight?"

yunho raises an eyebrow, amused. you clear your throat when he doesn't move, looking around before finally figuring it out.

"could you sit up straight, sir? please?"

"right away, darling."

he does as asked, exposing his back to you. heavens, you want to- you want to- you don't even know what you want. there he sits, a whole meal right in front of you, and all you can do is breathe heavily and act all clumsy. you rub the soap on his back, gently massaging him and feeling every line on his body.

"you missed a spot."

"huh?"

"right here." his warm hand takes your wrist, guiding you towards his chest once again. your hand rests over his beating heart, and if you weren't so foolishly focused on seeing what the missed spot was, you would've seen the look on his face that is yelling to kiss him.

"oh, sorry."

he doesn't get angry. instead, he chuckles fondly. you are so delicate and innocent, it hurts him. too mesmerized by your focused face, he doesn't notice that your hand is traveling to his stomach. he jolts, hand clasping your wrist so tight that it has you whimper. you seem to have found a sensitive spot, not only to the body, but to the mind and heart. the look on his face shifts from a soft to an angry one, and you take it as your cue to step back.

"that's all. you can go." he mutters, looking away from you.

"but-"

"i'll finish up. go."

coming back to the stables, it takes a lot of energy. you first go during the day, with jongho. he knew, wyatt told him. the rest only knew that wyatt and the man got into a fight and wyatt had to shoot him. jongho is understanding, kind, and doesn't seem to share any of the qualities that the dead man had given them. not only is he not interested in doing any harm to the town and its people, but he is rather helpful.

yunho, again, is nowhere to be seen. you hesitate to ask. you don't know what you did wrong, but you pray that the night isn't your last encounter with him.

you stand in front of the stables, memories flooding your brain once you see the hay blocks. they have been rearranged, some destroyed, possibly by jongho or wyatt. the horses are sitting together in the corner, enjoying the warmth of each other during the first snowy day.

"i can't do it." 

"that's alright. i won't force you. i just don't want one sick man to keep haunting you even when he's no longer here."

"i need time."

jongho only smiles reassuringly, patting your shoulder. he's nice, why doesn't your stomach toss and turn when you see him the way it does when you see yunho?

"i still wonder what he told you about yunho. your behaviour towards him isn't at all like he described it."

"what, he spoke to you about me?"

wyatt subtly kicks his knee from the side, ordering him to stop. but jongho feels rather mischievous today, and is growing annoyed of his leader. they were supposed to move on days ago, not behave like tourists.

"you first. i want to know why you despise him. well, except obvious reasons." the young man turns around, pointing at their companions scattered in the main street, keeping people away and scared.

you sit on the bench in front of the stable, running your hands through your already messy hair before finding the right words to say. "is he married?"

the two men look at each other, their faces not giving you much of an answer. they are extremely good at masking their emotions. wyatt sighs, sitting down to your right. "yes. and no."

"what do you mean? yes or no?"

"well, it's complicated." jongho says, sitting to your left.

"it's also not our story to tell," wyatt adds, looking over at jongho with a warning look, "yunho is the one that should be telling you."

you scoff, making both men look at you in confusion. "does it matter? he'll just sleep with me, you all will do your part of the job, and then you'll leave. i should do it as soon as possible, for both of our sakes. i imagine you can't wait to leave this town, just like we can't wait for you to leave."

"listen, if yunho wanted to harm you, he would. we never stay in one place longer than three days. we've been here far longer, as you can see. i don't know the reason yet, but i know he doesn't mean any harm. did he have a change of heart? doubt it. will he continue his crimes? i don't doubt that. is there something holding him here? yes, yes there is. i might have a guess, but-"

"jongho. shut the fuck up."

"i wasn't going to tell her, wyatt, relax."

the two men bicker over you, random words and sentences traveling to your ears and overstimulating your brain. you start feeling dizzy, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. you stand up and march down the street, leaving the two men to feel bad on the bench.

the next time you go to the stables, it is night again. and it is because your father throws a glass at you. it hits the wall right next to you, breaking, shards flying into your skin. you have nowhere to go, yunho's companions basically running the town by now. you don't need one of them to get a hold of you again. you sit on the new pile of hay, far in the corner. sobbing, pulling at your hair, cursing yourself.

how wise would it be to actually take his offer? would you be able to survive on your own? or would every single man in town finally be happy that you're all alone, unprotected, and out of someone's cage.

it hurts to even think about it, and it causes you to sob even more. your chest hurts, and after what seems like hours of crying, you aren't sure if it's from physical or emotional pain.

the animals seem to feel sorry for you, because soon enough two horses find their comfort in the hay right next to you, shielding your figure from the outside world. you can't help but laugh at the bigger one, his head pushing into your lap and demanding attention.

"aren't you cute?"

your fingers gently caress its neck, lulling it to sleep. it seems like the whole stable was affected, because soon enough they all start laying down one by one, calling it an early night and pulling you to sleep with them. funny how you got way more peace and affection from animals than your own family.

"moonshine."

click. click. click.

"come on, girl."

the warm surface you were laying on moves, following the mouth clicking noises and leaving your head to rest on the hay. you're still asleep, not aware that someone else has joined you in the stable. but the other person isn't aware that you're there either.

"there's my good girl," the man pets the black stallion, which lives up to its name and stands under the moonlight, in its full glory and shine. "aren't you beautiful?"

your eyes peel open, the voice slowly waking you up. you hear crunching, and a bucket rattling. when you finally open your eyes, you see the outline of the familiar figure at the entrance. it is not yet morning, that you figure out by the darkness that has swallowed the place. the only light being the gas lantern hanging from the saloons entrance, you don't see much. but you recognize that hat and figure anywhere.

"i wish you could speak, my pretty moonshine. you'd tell me why blood was spilled, and why my pretty girl won't lay her eyes on me anymore."

his...? his pretty girl? you don't move a muscle, hoping to hear more. the mare only points its head towards the bucket, demanding more food. yunho chuckles, reaching for another apple.

"do you think i scared her away? i made sure she knows i don't mean any harm to her. did someone fill her pretty head with something?"

the mare lets out a noise, as if wanting to confirm. yunho exhales, then sets the bucket aside. he goes further into the stable, walking just past you and grabs the saddle from the corner. going back, his boot gets caught in your dress, and causes him to halt. you shut your eyes, pretending to still sleep.

"heavens." he exhales.

you feel him get closer to you, and almost betray yourself when you feel his knuckles caress your face.

"darling?"

his voice is usually low and pleasant, but hearing him whisper is just something else. why does he have to be so perfect, yet so dangerous?

you stretch, pretending to not notice him yet. finally opening your eyes, you fake a gasp. you lean back into the hay, trying to keep a distance from him. he crouches in front of you, fixing his hat. you can't get over how well it suits him.

"had a good nap?"

"well, yes. had." you mumble, rubbing your eyes.

"that's no place to sleep, dove."

"it's the only place that gives me comfort right now."

he nods, understandingly. he offers you his hand to take, and you only look at him, puzzled.

"i'll take you to a place that will give you more comfort."

"i'm not sure-"

"that wasn't a question." the tone is serious, but the wink he gives you after it relaxes you.

the cowboy stands up, making his way to his mare. you stand up, dusting off your dress and following him. he puts the saddle on the horse, securing it, then offers you his hand again. this time you take it, not yet sure what he had in mind.

"go on, climb her."

"uh... she's quite... bigger than the last one. or any other one i rode on."

"yeah, moonshine is quite something. she's gentle though, nothing to worry about. go on, don't be shy."

with a bit of struggle, and a little push from yunho, you finally sit comfortably on the tall mare. she indeed shines under the moon, black fur reflecting beautifully in the dark night. yunho climbs behind you, taking the leash in his hands and guiding the mare down the street.

"is she fast?"

"she can be. want to see?"

"i don't know. i might scream."

he chuckles. he maintains the pace, gracefully trotting down the quiet sleepy town. you see some of his companions keeping watch, each nodding their heads your way as you pass them. your gaze falls on his hands, searching for the shiny item that was mentioned that night. but you don't see it. was it really a lie? or did yunho somehow know, and took it off? is the wife even real?

"hold on tight." he whispers into your ear, hot breath brushing your neck and cheek.

you grab onto his thighs, instinctively, right before you pass the last house and yunho whips the leash against the mare. it neighs, puts its two front legs up in the air and almost throws you on the grown. you gasp, but manage to collect yourself once the animal returns to its position and starts galloping. it feels like you're flying, and you're enjoying it more than you're scared of it. your hair flies into his face probably, but he doesn't say anything.

you pass hills, past the river where you first saw the man, and into the mountains. you don't remember the last time you went this far outside of town. not only because you weren't allowed, but you had no time or way. it's not as if you had a horse of your own.

his thighs are firm under your hands, nothing but pure muscle. and it suddenly drives you crazy, the way you feel his torso pressed against your back, arms holding the leash and keeping you from falling off along the way, his breath against your ear.

"you alright?"

"yes!"

"how do you feel? scared?"

"this is so much fun! it's scary and fun!"

his laugh is loud over the wind, chest vibrating behind you. the mare slows its pace when arriving on the steep mountain trails, carefully navigating to the top. once there, it comes to a halt. it is not very high, but high enough too overlook the fields, the river, and the distant town. yunho dismounts, then helps you down.

"cold?" he asks, noticing your trembling frame.

"a bit."

this time, he doesn't throw the spare jacket at you like the first time you met. he takes off his own, helping you put it on. it's warm, smells like him, and it's making you so dizzy you might just fall off the cliff. taking a good look at him, you decide that even if he is dangerous, his handsomeness makes up for it. he wears a brown waistcoat, accentuating his thin waist and broad shoulders. heavens, he is so dashing.

you stand still, waiting for his next plan. he pulls a blanket out of the saddlebag, along with the familiar white cloth, and sets it on the ground. the mare continues it's path further up, taking a spot near a boulder, as if used to the situation already. which brings you back to the questions in your head; did he bring other women here?

"sit down, peach. make yourself comfortable."

and you do, right next to him. you both sit still for a few moments, looking at the faint light in the distance. yunho then fidgets with something in the pocket of his jeans, before holding it out for you to take. in his open palm lays a ring, the very ring you've heard about and had your head spinning for days.

"hmph," he laughs through his nose, "figured that was the issue."

"there is no issue. you have a wife. end of story."

"take it."

"no."

"take it."

"i don't want to."

yunho sighs, then closes his hand again. he sits still for a few moments, as if thinking. and then-

"why would you do that?!"

you stand up, watching the shiny piece of jewelry fall from the cliff.

"if you listened and took it, you would've seen how worthless it is."

"i don't need your wedding ring, yunho."

his eyebrows are knit together, and you suddenly realize your mistake.

"you know my name."

"yeah."

"how?"

and you tell him. every detail of it, including the wife story. he listens carefully, face not giving any emotion. typical. by the time you finish, you are laying down and looking up at the shiny sky, tears streaming down your face. yunho is propped up on his elbow, laying on the side and listening. his fingers catch a fresh tear, brushing your cheek in the process. you are left completely baffled when he puts the very same fingers on his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the salty liquid.

"you poor thing." he coos, bringing his hand back to you. he removes the hair from your neck, then smiles with satisfaction once he sees your healed skin. "that's good. seems my medical techniques worked."

you scoff, putting your hair back over your neck with embarrassment. "so, uh... your wife?"

"a psycho."

"oh."

"she stabbed me. almost bled out to death if it weren't for jongho."

he says it so casually, as if it isn't a big deal. "you're still married though, right? that's why you had the ring."

"not quite. we weren't really married. it was just play pretend, so she could have half of everything i was bringing back. once i stopped, the bitch jumped me with a knife. barely made it out alive."

"then... why did you keep it?"

"to keep women away from me. well, those i didn't want."

"but you sleep with them. you use them anyway."

he frowns at the accusation. "no, no i don't. i only rob. i sleep only with prostitues, sometimes. what my companions do is none of my business. we have a deal, and i do not ask about what they do. just like they don't ask about me or what i do."

so, not all of it is true. but then again, can you really trust him?

"i'm so sorry, dove. if i knew that sick bastard would go behind my back, even after threatening them not to touch you-"

"it's fine. nothing happened." you try, seeing him get angrier with every second he spends imagining the situation you were in.

"he stole your first kiss."

"well, yes. but, what's done is done. it was barely a kiss, really. more like mouth to mouth breathing. it was like inhaling a whole onion." you say with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. but yunho doesn't laugh. instead, he unbuttons his waistcoat, then his shirt.

"what- what are you doing?"

"well, since you showed me your bruises, and told me your story, it would only be fair that i showed you mine."

you remember the night you washed him, when you went to touch his stomach and he told you to leave. kneeling in front of him, you finally get to see why. a scar decorates his lower torso, just above the jeans and the v-line. you breathe in, ready to do something you would only in your dreams.

you lean in, hands trembling against the blanket and fingers scrunching it from the nervous state you're in. yunho shivers, feeling your lips press against his scar. you don't stop there, inspired by his own actions. you allow your tongue to graze it, and when you get another gasp from him, you take it as a sign to keep going. his hand finds its place under your chin, raising your head to that you can look at him. and he snaps.

he grabs you by your waist, pulling you up so that you sit in his lap. you don't fight back, you're enjoying it. over the layers of the dress, you feel something poking you, and it makes your cheeks heat up.

"stop looking at me like that." he whispers, lips inches away from yours.

"like what?"

"with those big eyes. like you want me to ravish you right here."

"maybe i do."

"you're saying risky things, sugar."

seeing that he doesn't intend on making the first move, you do. you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. you don't know what you're doing, but try your best. luckily, he gives in, humming into your lips and kissing you properly. his hands on your waist scrunch the fabric of your dress as he contains himself from just pushing you below him and having you his way. he needs to take it slow. you're not like others.

"relax your jaw." he mumbles, and when you do, he allows his tongue to touch your lips, as if asking for permission to enter. and you grant it, parting your lips and unsurely letting your tongue join his.

he massages your muscle with his own skilled one, rubbing it just right and making your thighs rub and seek pleasure. he kisses you slow, and deep, each stroke of his tongue more passionate than the previous one. he feels you get annoyed by something, and is forced to stop.

"what is it?"

"as much as i love your hat, it's in the way."

the man chuckles below you, immediately removing the hat and putting it on your head. "there."

"how do i look?" you adjust it, getting used to the new item.

"like a feast."

with a swift move, yunho pulls your body closer to his face, so that it is between your legs. his hands shuffle through the layers of fabric, finally finding the undergarment and pushing it aside. "what are you doing? i'm going to squish you!"

"sit."

"what?!"

"sit."

you hover above him, not yet listening. this time, he is the one to get annoyed, and puts his hands on your bottom. he slams you against his face, tongue immediately licking a stripe up your already slick folds. you gasp, hand flying to his shoulders for support.

"rock your hips, sunshine. make yourself feel good."

you do as told, rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue, soft moans and gasps leaving your mouth. you tremble in his hands, the newfound pleasure too much for you to handle. "i can't- yunho, it's too much-"

the man only sends you a mischievous look, before taking the situation into his own hands. his plush lips close around your clit, sucking it, while the tip of his tongue teases the tip of your clit. you let out a long and loud moan, body shuddering from the surge of intense pleasure.

"fuuuck-" you whine, hips hopelessly grinding against his tongue.

deciding it's enough, yunho flips you underneath him with a swift motion. "do you want to do this?"

"yes, please."

"then, i'll have to prepare you. since you asked so nicely."

he flips your dress over, exposing your wet bottom to the cool air. you shiver again, his jacket not helping much with the cold.

"this is going to hurt a little. i promise i'll be gentle."

you nod, then go back to abusing the poor blanket underneath you. you bite into it, feeling his long digits intrude your tight walls. it is unpleasant, but not that painful.

"that's a good girl. you're so wet for me, look how easily you're taking me."

he starts pumping in and out, squelching noises having you completely lose your mind and almost drool on the blanket. his fingers are long, very long. how will you survive his-?

"this good, darling?"

"yes."

"yes, what?"

"yes, sir." you moan out, hips moving along with his hand in hopes of more pleasure.

he doesn't speed up. being soft and slow seems to be his way of doing it, and it is a pace you are enjoying very much. it's not fast, like you do it. you do it to get rid of it. he does it for actual pleasure. when he removes his fingers, you can't help but whine at the loss of contact. he turns you around so that you lay on your back, facing him. his hair is a mess, much like yours, and he smiles lazily at you.

"my needy girl." he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips. "can i claim you, sweet thing?"

"what?"

"do you wish to be mine?"

do you? or is it just the horny speaking instead of you? either way, you might end up regretting. so you simply say:

"yes, sir."

"say my name, darling." he pulls himself out of his jeans, the tip of his cock running circles on your sensitive clit.

"yunho."

he hums, slipping his tip past your folds. "again."

"yunho," you gasp, feeling him inch by inch splitting you in half.

"again."

"yunho-"

"more."

"yunho," thrust, "yunho," thrust, "yunho!"

he gets lost in the feeling of your tight warm walls, hips snapping deep inside of you and driving you crazy. you get wetter by the second, even more when you see him so dizzy. it's nice to know that you have him in a chokehold as much as he has you.

"does it hurt?"

"no," you reply.

"that's because you're so perfectly made for me. look at you, you fit in the palm of my hand."

that's not true, obviously. but the way he says it makes you really feel that you could fit, and that you could stay protected there. his hips collide with yours, and your eyes roll back.

"such a pretty pussy," he growls, pace getting sloppier and slower. "wish i could do this all night long."

"me too," you moan.

his hands rip your dress apart, exposing your chest. his lips waste no time in attaching to your skin, leaving bite marks all over it, until reaching the tense nipples. he takes one in his mouth, tongue swirling around it, while his other hand plays with the other. your fingers find comfort in pulling his hair, subconsciously pushing his head into you further.

"my sweet peach," he coos, cock sliding in and out so easily, "my pretty girl."

"so sweet"

"even your moans are so beautiful"

"use me for your pleasure, darling"

you find yourself moving your hips along with his, only in a faster pace. you need to finally feel that orgasm. you feel something build up in the bottom of your stomach, and you're not sure what to do.

"yunho..."

"yes, my love?"

"i don't know how to- how to orgasm."

"you'll feel it. don't think about it. just relax, and let your body do it. let me do it."

you feel the buildup, then you lose it. again, and again, until you whine about it. yunho turns you around again, so that you are sitting on his lap. you feel him deep in your stomach, almost pulsating.

"let's try this."

he helps you up and down, rolls your hips, until he finds what works for you. you hover above him, hopelessly biting into his neck to contain your inappropriate noises. his hips snap into yours with a fast pace, finally hitting the spot you didn't know existed. the buildup starts again, this time not stopping. and when pleasure washes you over, you can't help but pull at yunho's hair mercilessly, moaning into his ear and letting yourself completely go. he helps you ride it out, waves of intense pleasure washing over you as yunho helps himself get closer.

"fuck, darling." he growls, pulling out of you.

"wait, what about you?"

"i'll just- i don't know."

his hand wraps around his cock, which is ready to unleash any moment. the man almost audibly gasps when he sees you kneel in front of him, innocently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. just how did you know?

"are you sure?"

"positive."

"absolutely sure?"

"yunho?"

"yes?"

"please cum in my mouth."

and it's all it takes. yunho jerks himself on your tongue, or at least tries to. some of it ends up on your face, but you so carefully try to collect every single drop he gives you. you don't miss the way his head falls back, eyes rolling and low moans escaping his pretty lips. coming down from his high with one last pump and moan, he finally looks at you. the texture on your tongue is not the most pleasant one, but you decide to impress him further, and swallow it. he scoffs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.

"you are just perfect, aren't you?"

in the morning, the ride back is much more comfortable. you still wear his hat, proudly, and his jacket. he can't help but kiss your shoulder as you ride, having it difficult enough to keep his hands off you. if only he could hold you in his pocket all day.

upon entering the town, you notice the people, your people, standing and waiting. would now be the right time to tell yunho you accept his offer?

he helps you dismount, before taking the revolver in his hand.

"what's this? a rebellion?" he says, mockingly.

"does she know?" your father asks, pointing at you.

you scrunch your eyebrows, looking between the two men. something shines in your fathers hand, and you realize he also holds a revolver.

"there is nothing to know." yunho replies, approaching him and standing in front of you. "you keep your mouth shut."

"oh, but there is. see, my little daughter, if you want to whore around, you could've picked anyone from the town. not your own mother's killer."

blood runs cold in your veins. the sun suddenly doesn't shine as bright anymore, and the man in front of you morphs into someone else. he turns around towards you, shaking his head. "no..."

"he shot her."

"you shot my father!"

"he deserved it!"

"no, the fuck he didn't!"

you step back, tears burning your eyes. did you really give yourself to the man who took your mother away from you? who also took your father away from you?

"listen-" yunho tries, hands reaching to touch you.

"don't touch me."

"he came here to finish the business. but he didn't count that he would fall for the daughter. what a clash of interests."

he doesn't deny it. and it only infuriates you more. so he did have an evil plan after all.

"you came for me, didn't you?" your father presses further, raising his revolver.

"no, i didn't." yunho replies, face changing from a guilty and sorry one to a neutral. "i came for her."

he grabs you by your shoulders, putting his hand over your mouth. you toss, scream, and whatnot, but what are you compared to his grip?

"i assume you won't care much if i took her away. but it would mean much to me. tit for tat."

"you are to never step foot into this town again. not you, not your companions."

yunho nods. and your father puts his weapon away. and it crashes your heart. you know you don't mean much to him, but to give you to an outlaw so easily?

"i came for what i wanted, not to worry. you won't see me ever again."

and just like that, you find yourself tied up and tossed over the black mare.

why did you ever wish for a life other than the one you had?

"you're all mine now, sunshine."

feedback greatly appreciated! <3

My bae 🥺

i think he’s cute

Fuck everything 😮‍💨😣

hey wtf

This was sooooo sweet I can't 😭😭😭😭

my universe | lee anton

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: if anyone were to ask your husband what matters most to him he’d undoubtedly respond with, “my family.” you and your three children, soon to be four, are his whole universe.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: husband!anton x f!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: slice of life au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.7k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: screaming kids, tantrums, mentions of pregnancy, protective anton, fear of water, accidental hitting, you and anton shower together, overall just cute family time hehe :)

⏤ 𝑎/n: want anton to father my kids 🫨

"Mama, up!"

You glance down at your youngest, his small arms reaching up towards you from the floor as you hover over the stove, carefully tending to breakfast for your bustling household. His sleepy eyes and rumpled pajamas tug at your heart, but you know you have to keep moving.

"Just a little longer, sweetheart," you say gently. "Mama's making breakfast."

But your explanation does little to soothe him, and his pout quickly turns into a full-blown tantrum. He wails, stomping his little feet in frustration, the noise echoing through the kitchen. Before you can intervene, Anton's calm, firm voice cuts through the chaos.

"Buddy, come here."

Your son turns, still sniffling, and runs into Anton's waiting arms. Anton scoops him up effortlessly, his voice soothing as he explains, "Mama's making breakfast. She can't pick you up right now, okay?"

Your son, now snuggled against Anton's shoulder, seems to understand. He buries his face into his father's neck, his cries subsiding as sleep overtakes him once more.

Just then, the twins burst into the kitchen, their energy filling the room as they dart around. The two children create a whirlwind of laughter and shouts, making it almost impossible for you to continue cooking. Your son stirs and starts to cry again, overwhelmed by the sudden noise.

"Hey, hey, calm down, everyone," Anton says, his voice authoritative yet kind. "No running around in the kitchen. Go wait in the living room until breakfast is ready."

The twins, recognizing the seriousness in their father's tone, grab each other's hands and run out, still bubbling with excitement but now more contained. You sigh in relief, though your son's cries continue, his small body writhing in Anton's arms.

"Here, let me take him," you offer, stepping towards Anton.

But Anton shakes his head, his eyes gentle but firm. "No, love. I don't want you carrying him. Remember, you're pregnant."

You roll your eyes slightly but smile, appreciating his concern. "I'm fine, Anton. I can handle it."

"I know you can," he says, brushing a stray braid from your face. "But I'd feel better if you didn't pick him up for a while."

You relent, understanding his worry, and return to cutting up the fruit, grateful for his support. Anton sways gently, soothing your son until his cries turn to soft snores. Just then, your mother-in-law descends the stairs, her presence warm and reassuring.

"Good morning," she greets, taking her grandson from Anton with practiced ease. "I'll take this little one."

"Thanks, Mom," Anton says, his hands now free to help you finish breakfast. He moves to your side, starting to plate the food with efficiency born of practice.

The sound of breakfast preparations and the occasional clatter of dishes fills the kitchen. You and Anton work in a seamless rhythm, a testament to the years of shared mornings and teamwork. As you place the final touches on the plates, Anton calls out, "Okay, breakfast is ready!"

The children come running back, their excitement renewed. As they crowd around the table, the twins start to bicker over who gets to sit next to their dad, their voices rising in discord.

"Girls, you can share the chair," you interject, cutting off the argument before it can escalate. "No more fighting, okay?"

They nod, clambering onto the same chair, their brief squabble forgotten in the excitement of breakfast. As they dig into their plates, the sound of footsteps inform of the arrival of Anton's father.

"Grandpa!" The chorus of excited voices fills the room as the kids rush to him, wrapping their arms around his legs. Even your youngest joins in, having wriggled free from his grandmother's grasp.

He chuckles, bending down to tickle them. "Alright, alright, let's finish breakfast first," he says, his eyes twinkling with affection.

Anton hands you a cup of tea, his eyes meeting yours with a loving smile. "Good morning, Dad," he says, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"Good morning," his father replies, settling into a chair with a contented sigh, watching the lively scene before him.

You take a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace amidst the chaos. Anton often tells you that your family is his whole universe, and in moments like these, it's easy to see why.

As breakfast progresses, the noise level rises again, though this time it’s filled with the happy chatter of children and the clink of utensils. Your mother-in-law, having settled your youngest comfortably on her lap, joins in the conversation, sharing a story from Anton’s childhood that has everyone laughing.

"Did you know," she says, "when your dad was your age," she points at one of the twins, "he used to run around the kitchen with his brother just like you, driving me up the wall!"

Anton shakes his head, grinning. "And now it's come full circle. Thanks for that, Mom."

The twins giggle, and you see them exchanging looks that promise future mischief.

As you move to enter the kitchen, Anton stands and follows you, placing a gentle hand on your back. "Need a hand?" he asks.

"Just need some water," you reply with a smile.

He obliges, pouring a glass of water for you before topping off his own cup with some more coffee. "You know," he says quietly, "I think we should tell everyone soon. About the baby."

You nod, looking through the kitchen entryway at the gathered family, feeling a wave of warmth and gratitude. "Yeah, soon. But not just yet. Let's keep this little secret between us for a bit longer."

Anton agrees, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. "I can't wait to meet this one."

___

As breakfast winds down, Anton’s father stands up, signaling the end of the meal. "Alright, girls," he says, clapping his hands. "Who’s up for a game outside?"

A chorus of cheers follows, and the twins scramble to clean up their plates, eager for the next adventure. Anton helps you clear the table, his hand occasionally brushing yours, a silent reminder of his love and support.

Your mother-in-law, still holding your youngest, stands and stretches. "I'll take him for a little walk in the garden," she says. "Give you two a bit of a break."

"Thanks, Mom," you say, truly grateful.

As the children spill outside, their laughter echoing back into the house, you and Anton share a quiet moment in the now peaceful kitchen. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

"You know," he murmurs, "I wouldn't trade this for anything."

You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "Neither would I."

Anton and you retreat to the kitchen, the comforting sounds of family now a backdrop to your conversation. Together, you start washing the dishes, working side by side. Anton takes up the sponge, scrubbing at a stubborn spot on a plate, while you rinse and stack the clean dishes.

“Remember when we first found out we were having the twins?” you say, smiling at the memory.

Anton chuckles, his eyes warm with nostalgia. “How could I forget? We were both in shock. Two babies at once.”

You nod, laughing softly. “I thought we’d never sleep again.”

“And we didn’t, for a while,” Anton replies, shaking his head. “But look at them now. They’re growing up so fast.”

You both pause, gazing out the window above the kitchen sink. The large yard, a non-negotiable for both of you when buying this house, stretches out in front of you. The twins run around with their grandpa, their laughter ringing through the air, while your son clings tightly to his grandmother’s hand, exploring the garden.

“I’m so glad we insisted on a big yard,” you say, watching the children play. “I wanted them to have the space to explore, to grow up with nature. Not glued to screens all the time.”

Anton nods, his arm brushing yours as he hands you another plate. “They’re having the kind of childhood we always dreamed of for them.”

You turn to look at your husband, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. “Our son looks just like you, you know. Acts like you too. It’s like having a little Anton running around.”

Anton smiles, a tender look in his eyes. “And the twins are all you. They’ve got your energy.”

As you share this quiet moment, your oldest twin comes barreling into the kitchen, her voice high with excitement. “Beach! Daddy, Mommy, beach!”

Anton’s father follows her in, looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry about that. I told them about how much you and your brother loved swimming in the ocean when you were their age. They got a bit obsessed with the idea.”

You and Anton laugh, your kids’ enthusiasm infectious. The twins cling to your legs, their faces pleading as they beg to go.

“Please, Mommy! Please, Daddy!” they chant, their eyes wide with anticipation.

Anton glances at you, then back at the kids, a smile spreading across his face. “Well, it is nice out. How about a family outing to the beach?”

The twins squeal in delight, racing off to their shared room to pick out their outfits. You chuckle, shaking your head at their energy.

“Looks like we’re going to the beach,” you say, leaning into Anton.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “Mhhmm, excited to teach Chanwoo how to swim.”

With the dishes done, you start gathering the necessary items for a beach trip. Towels, sunscreen, snacks – everything you’ll need for a day of fun in the sun. The twins reappear, dressed in their swimsuits and hats, bouncing with excitement.

“Ready, ready, ready!” they chant, unable to contain their enthusiasm.

Your mother-in-law comes in, your son still in her arms. “Looks like we’re all set. This little one is ready for his first beach day too.”

You take a moment to look around at your family, feeling a profound sense of happiness and fulfillment. Anton catches your eye, and you share a smile, knowing that these are the moments that he appreciates most.

As you all pile into the car, the kids chatter excitedly about the waves, the sand, and the fun they’re going to have. Anton starts the engine, and you lean back in your seat, hand resting on your slowly growing belly. Anton's parents follow in their own car, ready to join the beach adventure.

The twins, Yechan and Chanmi, start firing off questions as soon as you hit the road. "Mommy, how big are the waves?" Yechan asks, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"And will we see dolphins?" Chanmi adds, bouncing in her seat.

"The waves can be pretty big, but we'll stay where it's safe for you to play," you reassure them. "And maybe, if we're lucky, we might see some dolphins."

Your son, clutching his favorite stuffed animal, pipes up. "Mama, what about cwabs?" He tries to say 'crabs' but stumbles over the word, making you smile.

"Crabs, sweetheart," Anton corrects gently. "Can you say 'crabs'?"

"Cwabs," your son tries again, furrowing his little brow.

"Crabs," Anton repeats, and the twins join in, encouraging their brother.

"Crabs, crabs, crabs!" they chant, giggling.

Your son concentrates hard, then finally says, "Crabs!"

"Yay!" The twins cheer, giving him high fives, which makes him giggle in delight.

You feel your heart warm at the sight of your children supporting each other. Anton reaches over to squeeze your hand, his eyes reflecting the same affection you feel.

“Daddy, why don’t you swim anymore?” Yechan asks suddenly, her question catching you off guard.

Anton glances at you before answering. “Well, sweetie, I stopped swimming to follow another dream. I wanted to sing, so I chose that instead.”

Chanmi gasps, her eyes wide with admiration. “You’re so cool, Daddy.”

Anton laughs, his voice soft and even lower than usual due to his bashfulness. “Thank you, Chanmi. That means a lot to me.”

When you arrive at the beach, the twins are practically vibrating with excitement, ready to dash into the water. You manage to corral them long enough to apply sunscreen, with Anton helping to ensure they’re properly covered.

“Can we go now? Please?” Yechan begs, hopping from one foot to the other.

“Alright, alright,” Anton says, laughing. “Let’s go.”

He tries to take your son along, but the little boy screeches and buries himself in your arms, clearly frightened of the water. “Looks like he’s not ready for the waves yet,” you say, soothing him with gentle pats. “We’ll stay here and build a sandcastle, okay?”

Your son nods, his grip on you tightening. You find a good spot on the beach, and soon, you’re both immersed in building an elaborate sandcastle, complete with moats and towers.

Your mother-in-law and father-in-law join you, sitting down in the sand to watch and help. “This is such a lovely day,” your mother-in-law says, her voice warm with affection. “Thank you for making our son so happy.”

You glance up, surprised. “Oh, it’s my pleasure. Anton means the world to me.”

She smiles, her eyes softening. “I was always worried, you know. With Anton’s job, I feared he’d never find someone who truly loved him for who he is. But you’ve been his rock. Despite the hate and the invasive fans, you stayed by his side. There’s no one else I could ever see him loving.”

Your father-in-law nods in agreement. “We’re grateful for you. You’ve made him so happy, and that’s all we’ve ever wanted for our kids.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away, smiling. “Thank you. That means a lot. I love Anton, and I love this family we’ve built together.”

As you chat, you keep an eye on Anton and the twins in the water. They’re laughing and splashing, Anton’s strong arms steadying them against the small waves. It’s clear they’re having the time of their lives, and your heart swells with pride and joy.

Your son, now more relaxed, starts to enjoy the sandcastle project, his little hands patting the sand into shape. “Look, Mama! Big tower!” he exclaims, showing you his handiwork.

“That’s amazing!” you praise, giving him a high five.

Your mother-in-law watches the scene with a tender smile. “He’s so much like Anton at that age. So determined and full of wonder.”

“He really is,” you agree, looking at your son with love.

After a while, Anton and the twins return, their faces flushed with excitement. “Mommy, did you see us? We went so far out!” Yechan says, her eyes sparkling.

“I saw! You were so brave,” you say, hugging her.

Chanmi nods vigorously. “Daddy was the best lifeguard ever!”

Anton grins, ruffling their hair. “You two were amazing swimmers.”

As the excitement of swimming subsides, you turn to your son, who’s been contentedly building sandcastles by your side. “Do you want to try the water, sweetie?” you ask him gently.

He hesitates, looking out at the waves with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. “Mama, water scary.”

You smile reassuringly. “I know it seems that way, but Mommy and Daddy will be right there with you. We’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

He looks up at you, his little face thoughtful. After a moment, he nods. “Okay, Mama. I twust you.”

You stand and take his small hand in yours, feeling a swell of pride at his bravery. “Let’s go to the shore, then. Daddy, can you help?”

Anton joins you, taking your son’s other hand. “Ready, buddy? We’ll take it slow.”

Together, you walk toward the water, your son gripping your hands tightly. When the first wave gently rolls over his little toes, he shrieks at the sensation but doesn’t pull away.

“See? It’s not so bad,” Anton says, smiling down at him. “Do you want to go in a bit deeper?”

Your son looks up at you both, then back at the water. With a firm nod, he says, “Yes, Daddy. Deeper.”

You caress his cheek, your heart swelling with love. “That’s my brave boy.”

As you walk in a bit further, the water rises to his knees. He giggles, now more accustomed to the feel of the waves. He pulls his hands free from yours and starts splashing around, his laughter echoing over the beach.

Anton giggles along with him, scooping him up and tossing him gently in the air before catching him. Your son squeals with delight, his fear completely forgotten. Anton tickles him, and the two of them laugh together, the joy of the moment infectious.

After a while, you head back to join the rest of the family for lunch. You spread out the picnic blanket, and everyone gathers around, their faces glowing with happiness and the warmth of the sun.

“Look at this spread,” your father-in-law says, rubbing his hands together. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

You smile, handing out some gimbap. “I had a lot of help.”

The kids settle down with their food, and soon the air is filled with the sound of chatter and laughter.

“Grandpa, do you like sandcastles?” Yechan asks, her mouth full of mango.

“I love sandcastles,” he replies, winking at her. “Especially when they’re built by my grandkids.”

Chanmi, always the curious one, turns to her grandmother. “Grandma, did Daddy build sandcastles too?”

Her grandmother smiles, brushing a stray hair from Chanmi’s face. “Oh yes, he did. Your daddy loved the beach when he was your age. He used to spend hours building the biggest sandcastles you can imagine.”

“Wow,” Chanmi says, eyes wide. “Daddy, did you really?”

Anton nods, taking a bite of his sandwich. “I did. I loved making towers, just like you do.”

“Can we build one together later?” Yechan asks, looking up at her dad with hopeful eyes.

“Of course,” Anton says, smiling. “I’d love that.”

Your son, having finished his sandwich, looks up at you with a proud smile. “Mama, I not scared of water no more.”

You ruffle his hair. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You were very brave.”

Anton’s mother looks at you with a soft smile. “You’re doing such a wonderful job with them. Thank you for giving Anton such a beautiful family.”

You feel a lump in your throat, touched by her words. “Thank you. It means a lot to hear that.”

Your father-in-law chimes in. “We couldn’t have asked for a better daughter-in-law. You’ve made our son so happy.”

As the afternoon progresses, you enjoy the easy camaraderie of family, the children’s laughter mingling with the soothing sound of the waves. You build more sandcastles, take turns flying a kite, and even manage to get your son to dip his toes in the water again, this time with even more confidence.

As the sun begins to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you gather your belongings, tired but content. The kids are still buzzing with energy, talking animatedly about their day.

“Can we come back tomorrow?” Yechan asks, her eyes shining with excitement.

“We’ll see,” Anton says, chuckling. “But for now, it’s time to head home and get some rest.”

You pile back into the cars, the kids’ chatter a comforting background noise as you drive home. Anton reaches over and takes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a tender gesture.

“I love you,” he says softly.

“I love you too,” you reply, feeling the truth of those words deep in your heart.

As you pull into the driveway, you can’t help but reflect on the day’s events. It’s in these simple, yet profound moments that you find true happiness. However, as you prepare to go inside, you realize the day isn’t quite over yet.

Anton carries your son, who fell asleep during the car ride, into the house. “Looks like someone’s completely worn out,” he says, smiling.

Inside, the twins start arguing as soon as they hear Anton mention showers. “If he’s not going to take a shower, then we won’t either!” Yechan declares, crossing her arms defiantly.

“That’s not fair!” Chanmi adds, mimicking her sister’s stance.

Anton sighs, his tone firm but gentle. “Everyone will be taking a shower tonight. No exceptions. We’ve all had a long day at the beach, and we need to get cleaned up.”

Yechan and Chanmi groan but relent, seeing that their father won’t budge. Anton carries your son to the bathroom while you start running the water, getting everything ready.

“Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up and take a quick shower,” you whisper, gently shaking your son awake.

He stirs, his face scrunching up in protest. “No, Mama, too sleepy.”

Anton chuckles softly. “I know, buddy, but you’ll feel better after a quick rinse. We’ll make it fast, I promise.”

Reluctantly, your son allows himself to be undressed and placed under the warm water. Anton keeps him steady, washing off the sand and salt while you help the twins get ready. Despite the initial resistance, the warm water helps soothe everyone, and soon the bathroom is filled with giggles and splashes as the day’s adventures are recounted.

After the showers, you wrap your son in a fluffy towel and carry him to his room. He’s barely awake, his head resting heavily on your shoulder. You and Anton moisturize his skin before dressing him in some pajamas and tuck him into bed, kissing his forehead. “Goodnight, my brave boy,” you whisper, brushing his hair back.

“Night, Mama. Night, Daddy,” he mumbles, already drifting back to sleep.

With your son settled, you head to the twins’ room. They’re in their pajamas, bouncing on their beds with boundless energy. “Alright, time for a bedtime story,” you announce, trying to wrangle them into bed.

“Yay! Storytime!” they cheer, finally settling down.

Anton picks out a book and starts reading, his voice soft and animated. The twins listen intently, their eyes wide with fascination. As the story ends, Chanmi immediately pipes up. “One more, please, Mommy!”

You shake your head gently. “No, sweetie, it’s time to sleep. We’ll read another one tomorrow.”

This answer doesn’t sit well with Chanmi, who starts to pout. “But I don’t want to sleep!” she declares, her voice rising.

“Chanmi, we agreed on one story,” Anton says, his tone firm. “It’s time for bed now.”

Chanmi’s frustration hits a head, and she starts to cry, thrashing around. In her tantrum, she accidentally smacks your stomach with her little hand. Anton’s eyes flash with anger, and he steps in immediately. “Noémi Chanmi Lee, that’s enough!” he says sternly. “You need to stop this right now. Hitting is not okay.”

You wince slightly at the impact and the use of your daughter's full government name but try to reassure Anton. “It’s okay, I’m fine,” you say softly, placing a hand on his arm.

Anton shakes his head, his eyes still on Chanmi. “She needs to understand what she did was wrong.” He kneels down to her level, his tone gentler but firm. “Chanmi, you need to calm down. It’s not okay to throw tantrums and hit. Even if you didn’t mean to, it’s still not acceptable.”

Chanmi’s tears start to slow as she realizes the gravity of what she’s done. “I’m sorry, Mommy,” she says, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”

You kneel down beside Anton and pull Chanmi into a hug. “I know you didn’t mean it, sweetie. I forgive you. But you need to listen when we say it’s time for bed.”

Anton wipes away Chanmi’s tears, his expression softening. “I’m sorry for yelling, but I was worried about Mommy. It’s important to behave and not throw tantrums, okay?”

Chanmi nods, sniffling. “Okay, Daddy. I’ll sleep now.”

You and Anton tuck the twins in, kissing them goodnight. “Sweet dreams, my loves,” you whisper, brushing a stray hair from Chanmi’s forehead.

“Night, Mommy. Night, Daddy,” they murmur, finally settling down.

As you close the door to the twins’ room, you and Anton exchange a look of shared relief and exhaustion. “Parenting is no joke,” Anton says with a tired smile.

You chuckle softly. “No, it’s not. But we’re in this together.”

Hand in hand, you head to your bedroom, the weight of the day’s activities starting to settle in. Once inside, you start getting ready for bed. You change into your robe and begin to wrap up your hair. Anton watches you with a soft smile, his love and admiration evident in his eyes.

“Shower?” he suggests, his voice warm and inviting.

You nod, feeling the day’s weariness melt away at the thought. “Yes, please.”

In the bathroom, Anton turns on the water, adjusting it to the perfect temperature. He helps you out of your robe and then sheds his own clothes, leading you under the warm spray. The water cascades over you both, washing away the sand and salt from the beach.

Anton takes the soap and lathers his hands, starting to wash your body with gentle, loving strokes. He’s careful and thorough, his touch tender as he cleanses your skin. When he reaches your growing belly, he bends down and kisses it softly, his lips lingering for a moment. “Hello in there,” he whispers, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

You smile down at him, your heart swelling with love. “You’re so sweet,” you murmur.

He stands back up and finishes rinsing you off before taking his turn. You help him wash, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. After you both are clean, you step out of the shower, drying each other off with fluffy towels. Anton wraps you in a warm embrace, his hands resting on your hips.

Back in your bedroom, you both get dressed in comfortable pajamas. You slip into bed first, sighing contentedly as you sink into the soft sheets. Anton follows, climbing in beside you and pulling you close to his body. His arms wrap around you protectively, his warmth seeping into your skin.

You nestle against him, feeling safe and loved. “Today was wonderful,” you say, your voice a gentle whisper in the quiet room.

“It really was,” Anton agrees, his hand resting on your belly. “The kids had so much fun, and I loved seeing them so happy.”

You nod, placing your hand over his. “And seeing our little one growing inside me, it makes everything feel even more special.”

Anton smiles, his eyes softening. “I’ve been thinking about the baby a lot. I really hope it’s a boy this time.”

You laugh softly, teasingly. “You scream girl dad, Anton. You should be thankful you have at least one son.”

He chuckles, giving your belly a gentle pat. “I know, but it’d be nice to balance things out a bit. The girls have such strong personalities, and sometimes I think it’d be fun to have another little guy running around.”

You smile, feeling a sense of contentment. “Well, whatever this little one turns out to be, I know we’ll love them just as much as we love the others.”

“Absolutely,” Anton agrees, his voice filled with sincerity. “I just want our family to be happy and healthy.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes meeting his. “And they are. Thanks to you.”

He shakes his head slightly, a modest smile on his lips. “Thanks to us. We’re a team, remember?”

You nod, your heart swelling with love for this man who has given you everything. “Yes, we are.”

Anton leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispers against your mouth.

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice filled with emotion.

As you settle into his embrace, you close your eyes, feeling completely at peace. The day has been long and tiring, but it has also been filled with love, laughter, and precious moments with your family. And as you drift off to sleep, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you and Anton will face them together, with love and gratitude for the beautiful life you’ve built together.