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wheresarizona · 1 year

Text

Creed

summary: Upon meeting Bo-Katan Kryze and discovering there are other Mandalorians out in the galaxy who remove their helmets, Din Djarin is suddenly questioning his beliefs and unable to stop from wondering what you, his wife, look like under your own helm.

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Din Djarin, established relationship, age gap (10 years), alternating pov, unprotected p in v, creampie, BREEDING KINK, oral sex (f receiving), first kiss, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic fluff, fluff, removing helmets for the first time, religious guilt, did I mention breeding kink? Din being so in love he wants to break the Creed, good parent Din Djarin)

pairing: Din Djarin/f!Mandalorian reader (from the Tribe with zero physical descriptions)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: It’s called Creed, but Breed also works. Lmaooo @what-muses sent in the prompt for Din hearing reader singing to Grogu, and I am so insanely sorry for this not being super wholesome. I just know in my heart Din would hear the woman he loves singing to their kid, and he’d want more children. 😭😭😭 I legit wrote 95% of this while either sick or in the ER to make myself feel better. Takes place during season 2. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing this.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to hear what you thought of it!

Masterlist

He knows his own face—the color of his eyes, the curve of his nose, the crease between his eyebrows, the patchy facial hair. He knows the shape of his lips, the dimple in his cheek, and the lines that show his age. He’s the only person who can take in all of these details and know they belong to him, something secret, sacred—the Way of the Mandalore means no other living being can see him without his helmet. It also means you’ve never seen his face, but that’s never been an issue since you also follow the Creed.

Staring at his reflection in the ‘fresher mirror, his naked body clean from the sonic shower, he slowly moves the razor over the skin of his cheek, wondering briefly what you look like under your purple helm.

Pausing, his eyebrows furrow, realizing the thought has never once crossed his mind—it wasn’t something he ever would have wondered before because it’s never been important. The two of you had your beliefs and followed them, not caring about what was beneath the beskar, all that mattered was you loved each other.

You’ve been together since he’d saved the kid from the Client, you leaving Nevarro with him, your relationship shifting as time went on—the two of you keeping the child safe and falling in love in the process.

Then on your quest to reunite the small boy with his kind, you’d met the other Mandalorians, discovering there were many out across the galaxy who didn’t follow the Creed or the ways of old. They believed you could be a Mandalorian and remove your helmet and that your tribe was a cult.

Continuing shaving, he rinses the razor blade under water before sliding it along his other cheek. A lot of people preferred using depil cream to remove their facial hair, but Din liked the precision of the razor over the viscous liquid.

It was overwhelming hearing all that Bo-Katan had said and having this new knowledge, making him wonder what it truly meant to be a Mandalorian.

Could he really put the helmet back on once he took it off in front of another?

With the location of a Jedi and your time with your foundling running out, it was important he was present to witness your union, both knowing you were going to spend the rest of your days together by each other’s sides. Din and you exchanged your vows, committing to one another for life in the cockpit of the Razor Crest with your child in attendance and the bright streaking stars of hyperspace flying by.

His face is mostly shaved, leaving hair on his chin and above his lips, now using a small pair of scissors to trim his mustache.

It doesn’t matter to him that no one else gets to see how he looks. He’s still particular in how he likes his facial hair, unable to stand too much of it under his helmet, keeping the hair on his head cropped short for comfort.

It makes him wonder if you have preferences as he shapes his mustache.

How long is your hair? What color is it? What color are your eyes? What does your smile look like? What will your children look like?

His hand stops, his eyes widening.

Gulping hard, that’s another thought that’s never crossed his mind. He knows you’re going to have children together. It’s something you’ve discussed, but not once has he thought of their looks. Things like that didn’t matter to Mandalorians, who spend their lives covered head to toe in armor. He wonders if he’d be able to pick out the pieces of you in them to get a glimpse of what the woman he loves looks like—he wants to know.

Why is he stuck on this?

It’s not the Way.

Din sighs, finishing what he’s doing.

The scissors get put back into his shaving kit, cleaning the sink of his hair clippings, happy you got a room at the inn here on Nevarro while the Crest is being repaired. The two of you are planning to help Greef and Cara with a small matter in the morning in exchange for the ship's repairs.

Once he’s done, the stuff shoved into his bag, Din pulls out clean clothes to change into for the night, settling for some cloth pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Putting his helmet on, he gathers his bag and flight suit, the rest of his armor out in the room you’re in with the kid, stacked neatly beside your own.

Greef was the one who provided the accommodations, Din assuming it’d be a basic room—a bed, a refresher, the necessities. That wasn’t good enough for the magistrate, though. Instead, he’d set you up in a one-bedroom suite with a sitting room and a tiny kitchen.

Making his way out of the ‘fresher and bedroom, he stops in his tracks at what he hears.

You’re sitting at the small dining table, the kid in the seat beside you happily accepting the food he’s passed, which was a common occurrence, it’s the song you’re singing that has Din so caught off guard.

He’s heard you hum a lot—tunes were always getting stuck in your head that you picked up in cantinas or buskers on the street. You’ve sung before, too, but you were trying to make him and the kid laugh with your boisterous renditions of Mandalorian drinking songs.

This is different.

It’s not loud—it’s soft, sweet, the Mando’a flowing from your lips like a soft caress, hearing your love for the child with every syllable sung. This is a song mothers sang to their children, having heard such a thing back at the covert, about Mandalore the Great taming his mythical mythosaur and the strength all Mandalorians had.

There’s a helmet on your head, and he can’t help imagining what your face looks like under the t-visor. He can hear your love, would he be able to see it, too? There’s a smile in your voice, and it makes his chest squeeze at how he wishes he could look upon it.

Din knows you, and you know him.

He knows your likes and dislikes, your deepest, darkest secrets—everything about you, Din has learned and loves.

And now he wants more of you to love—he wants all of you, wants to see all of you.

You’re a wonderful mother, the kid so happy with you, taking him in like he’s your own flesh and blood, and something inside Din is screaming that you need more children—he needs to give you that, more little ones to love, and sing to, as many as you want, the thought of you pregnant with his child making his skin heat.

Stars, you’d be even more beautiful round with his baby.

He swallows hard, his pants feeling a little tight.

He knows everything about you, he loves everything about you, and guilt has settled like a stone in his stomach that he suddenly can’t get his mind off what’s under the beskar on your head.

The singing stops when you notice him, your t-visor trained on his prone form, standing just inside the room.

“Hey!” you say, handing the child more food. “It’s dinner time—ordered food while you were in the ‘fresher. Got you something I know you’ll like.”

It takes him from his reverie, finally moving again to set his bag near the table by the couch, the shining pieces of both of your armor on top of it. He tosses his flight suit onto the sofa over his cape, walking over to where you and the kid are.

He’s behind your chair, rubbing his hands over your arms as he replies, “Thank you, my love.” Leaning down to gently knock his helmet against yours in the semblance of a kiss before moving around the table to take a seat.

What would your lips feel like on his?

He has to shake the question from his brain, clearing his throat, and opening the food container in front of him.

It makes him smile when he sees you did get him something he’d like—skewers of meat and vegetables.

Picking one up, he uses the fork beside him to push off the chunks into the container, discarding the skewer and using his free hand to lift his helmet up just enough to take a bite. He groans happily at the spices enveloping his tongue, chewing and swallowing.

“Good?” you ask, beginning to eat your own dinner the same way he was.

In the company of other Mandalorians, it was generally protocol to go off and eat alone, but you’d been traveling in the tight confines of the Crest for so long that barely lifting the helmet was an acceptable compromise, avoiding looking at each other as you did it.

“Really good,” he replies, shoving more into his mouth.

The kid coos contently, full from his meal, while you both enjoy your own, sharing snippets of conversation between bites.

By the time you’re both finished, the little one is falling asleep in his chair, and helmets are once again covering your faces.

“I’ll put him to bed,” you softly say, starting to get up from your chair.

“The couch,” he says a little too quickly.

“The couch?” Your tone is teasing. “Got plans since we have a bed this evening, my dear husband?”

“Maybe I do.”

“In that case, the couch it is,” you reply, disappearing into the bedroom and returning with a pillow and blanket that you put onto the sofa, coming back over to the table to take the child.

Din busies himself cleaning up the trash and finds himself stuck in place when he’s done as he watches you sitting next to the kid, stroking his big ears while softly singing an old lullaby.

That need comes crashing into him again, the one telling him to give you a baby. It’s loud, something primal that he feels deep down that won’t be satisfied until he’s buried himself inside your cunt and pumps you full of his seed.

Arousal is burning in his gut, his cock stirring, eyes locked on your downturned helm and the curve of your breasts under your shirt.

He wants to strip you bare and feel your skin, batting away the intrusive thought of getting your helmet off—his, too, in order to lick and suck what he wants to touch.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realize you’ve gotten up until you’re whispering by the bedroom door, “You coming?”

His bare feet move quickly, following you into the other room. Once the door is shut and the lock engaged, he’s crowding into you, needing to get his hands on your body, rubbing them over your soft belly and up to cup your breasts.

“You’re in a mood,” you giggle, Din’s hands roaming all over your body, your front, back, down to grab your ass.

“Need you,” he grunts.

Sliding your hands down his chest, you move lower to palm his half-hard dick in his pants, feeling it twitch under your touch.

“Yeah, you do.”

His eagerness is turning you on, wishing you could kiss him.

That makes you frown.

Over a year together and never once have you thought of kissing Din or seeing him without his helmet, for that matter, and yet, for days now, these things have been popping up in your brain. Kept you wondering what he looks like, or the face he was making in a moment or how soft his lips were, or the color of his eyes—plagued by thoughts that went against how you were raised and what you believed, clear violations of the Creed you swore to live your life by.

It’s never been an issue, always a fact that the helmet stayed on in front of another, and then you met Bo-Katan, and now you were at constant war with your own mind, feeling like it was an enemy you couldn’t vanquish in battle.

There are other Mandalorians out there, who even wish to reclaim Mandalore, and they believe you can remove your helm in the presence of another—Bo-Katan’s own armor had been passed down for three generations.

What if it was okay to remove it?

Would Din want to?

Would he still love you?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking you from your thoughts.

His hands are now caressing the sides of your helmet, a little intrusive thought in the back of your mind wishing he’d take it off.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff…”

His head tilts in confusion.

“Tell me.”

That’s the thing about Din, he’s your best friend, your husband, you can tell him anything, which is why you tell him the truth.

“Bo-Katan and the others, they are Mandalorians and remove their helmets.”

“Yes, they do not follow the Creed.”

“Do you believe they are Mandalorians?”

“Do you?”

“Bo-Katan was born on Mandalore. She fought in the Great Purge. I do believe they are Mandalorians.”

“As do I.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He nodded.

“Din, we grew up believing in the Way of the Mandalore—it’s all we’ve known. We went through the same ceremony, we swore to walk the Way and never remove our helmets, but I—” Your hands go up to cradle where his cheeks would be “—can’t stop thinking about what you look like, and I feel ashamed because I know it’s wrong.”

“It’s not wrong.” He sounds hopeful. “I feel the same and want to see your face, too.”

That has you taken aback.

“You do…?”

“I do.” He nods.

“But will you still love me…?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“Of course. I love you for you and not for what’s underneath the beskar.”

“That’s a lie. You’re obsessed with my body.”

He chuckles, “I am because I love you and would continue loving you even if it changed…” he trails off like he’s thinking about something “I. Love. You.” he adds, saying each word clearly.

“Promise?”

Pressing a hand over his heart, he answers, “On my life.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“Will you still love me…?” The question comes out slowly.

“We literally just had a conversation over how you love me for me, and you have to know I feel the same way.”

“Just making sure.” You can hear his smile.

“So, would you like to break the Creed with me…?”

Your heart is hammering in your chest.

“More than you know.”

Relief washes over you, combined with giddiness.

“Thank the Stars!” you exclaim happily.

“At the same time?” He’s as eager as you are, his hands moving back to hold your helmet again.

“Yes.”

Gripping his, you both count down together, “Three, two, one…” Carefully, you lift his beskar, your own coming off, blinking at the light in the room, and your eyes zeroing in on the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, your mouth falling open in shock.

A person’s looks have never meant much to you, thinking some were pleasing to the eye, you finding someone’s prowess in battle more attractive along with their personality.

Din is a formidable opponent, always succeeding in his endeavors because he is highly intelligent, strong, and knows how to fight and use a weapon.

Even though many fear your husband, he’s actually a very sweet man, caring, loving, and will protect you and your foundling with his life.

And now you know he is also unbelievably attractive.

Beautiful chocolate eyes are rounded as they stare at you, the look on his face a twin of your own, loving his nose, and the messy brown hair on top of his head, seeing that he recently shaved with his facial hair looking neat, taking in every detail and line of the man you love.

“Beautiful,” he whispers in awe, and it has tears brimming in your eyes, bending down to set his helmet on the ground, him doing the same with yours, your hands moving to touch his face when you both straighten.

He’s so gentle when his broad palms caress your cheeks, almost like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Smiling, you reply, “You’re very handsome yourself.” You reach up to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows. “Your eyes are stunning. I hope our child gets them.”

His lips tip up, and Stars, they’re so plush, you can’t help yourself when you lean in to press your own against his, him making a surprised sound.

Your heart picks up in speed, having wondered what it would be like to kiss him, and at first, it’s soft; the warmth spreading under your skin, meaning to only give him a peck, but then he’s pulling you closer, kissing you a little harder. It’s lingering, his lips moving against yours in tiny movements that have fire burning brightly in your veins, following his lead to mimic what he was doing again and again and again.

It’s not like either of you has any experience with this type of thing, so you’re figuring it out as you go, doing what feels good, getting braver and more comfortable. Your fingers slide into the thick strands of his hair, moaning when his tongue slides over your bottom lip, instinctively opening for him. This was somehow better, more intimate, tasting each other, exploring the other’s mouths until the need to breathe became too much, and you’re separating with smiles on your faces, Din’s lips red and shiny from spit.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and it makes you feel all gooey.

“You’re very handsome.”

You stroke your fingers over his cheeks, his hands on your jaw, rubbing a thumb over your wet bottom lip.

It’s like you both can’t stop yourselves from staring, eyes taking in every little detail of the other's face, saving them to memory.

The need rises, and you’re kissing once more, it’s messy before you’re both moving to get your clothes off as quickly as possible—once stripped, Din’s mouth is on yours as he walks you back toward the bed, falling with you on top of it.

His hips are slotted between your thighs, his lips detaching from yours to kiss along your jaw, over your cheeks, up on your forehead, and the tip of your nose.

It makes you smile, him kissing all over your face, then to your ear, shoving his nose in your hair, and inhaling.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he says.

That makes you laugh.

“Thanks, but we use the same stuff—we smell the same.”

“No.” He nips at your ear, sucking it into his mouth, gasping at the jolts of pleasure shooting to your center. “You smell better.”

You press your fingers into his hair.

“Stars,” you moan, his lips trailing down your neck and sucking hard on your pulse point. “It feels so good, Din.”

His mouth is so warm, leaving your skin wet in the wake of his kisses, and he can’t seem to get enough, lips streaking across every bit of you as he travels down your body. His mouth engulfs your stiff nipple, making your back arch, gasping his name.

Arousal is hot in your belly, the feeling incredible as he laves at one hard bud, then the other, your head feeling dizzy while soft sounds spill from your lips.

He comes off your nipple with a pop, continuing his journey lower, kissing over your belly until he’s half off the bed, his big hands spreading your thighs.

There’s a look of hunger on his face as he stares at the apex of your thighs, his fingers moving to spread open the lips of your sex, seeing the pink of his tongue peek out to swipe across his bottom lip like he wants to taste you. The look has excitement thrumming in your veins, wanting nothing more than to know what it feels like to have his mouth on you.

“Taste it,” you purr, and his eyes meet yours, his so dark barely any of the beautiful brown remains. “I know you’ve licked me from your fingers.” You’ve seen him on more than one occasion lift his helmet just enough to suck your arousal from digits after they’d been inside you. “Taste it—I want your tongue.” You bit your lip between your teeth.

“Fuck,” he rasps, wasting no time dipping his head forward, licking a stripe through your slit, the flat of his tongue going from your entrance to your clit. He’s groaning into your sensitive flesh as you moan at how good it feels, him laving at every bit of slick he can find, your back arching when he pushes the wet muscle inside you.

“You taste so good.” His words are muffled in your cunt, his mouth moving up, making your toes curl when he sucks on your bundle of nerves.

Even though this isn’t an act either of you has ever done before, Din is a quick learner, knowing intimately what makes you tick—once he has his fill of your taste, he slides two thick fingers inside you, crooking them into that spot he always zeros in on, your vision going white for a second at the shock of pleasure.

“Din,” you moan, threading your fingers into his brown waves for something to hold onto.

The muscles in your belly are beginning to tighten, the heat in the base of your spine growing.

His big brown eyes lock on yours from between your legs, seeing your arousal glistening in his mustache and on his plush lips.

“Wanna taste your come,” he husks, his fingers continuing to work. “Can you come for me? Please?”

This might be his first time, but that big brain of his has quickly worked out how to get what he wants, keeping his gaze on yours while pulling your perky little clit into his mouth, sucking on it while his fingers slide along something divine, rocketing you toward your release.

Your hands tighten in his hair at the pleasurable fire building in your core, feeling it getting hotter and hotter as he works you over, having to bite your fingers to muffle your noises when euphoria explodes inside you, quieting your whine of his name.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he says into your pussy. “My good girl—such a good girl.”

His fingers leave you, replaced with his tongue, hearing and feeling him loudly groan as he indulges in your come, drinking it down from the source.

Your chest is heaving, breathing hard as you come down, your husband having the best time with his mouth on your cunt if the noises are anything to go by.

He got to explore your body, and it’s your turn, salivating at the thought.

Tugging on his hair, you say, “Din?”

His head comes up, looking a little lost with glazed-over eyes, the bottom half of his face shining in the light of the room.

All he can do is grunt in response.

“Get up on the bed and lay down on your back, please.”

His face pinches in confusion.

“What?” he whispers.

You smile. He seems almost drunk, a state you’ve never seen him in since he doesn’t like anything inhibiting his mind or body.

“Get up here, my love—” You pat the bed beside you. “—and lay down on your back. It’s my turn.”

It registers what you say, and he nods, doing as he’s told and crawling up onto the mattress and flopping down next to you with his head resting back on a pillow. Rolling over, you throw your leg over his waist, moving to straddle his hips, your wet center pressing his hard cock into his stomach. You rub your hands up his soft belly and over his chest, seeing the faded scars on his golden skin.

“You’re beautiful,” you say.

His cheeks pink at the comment.

“Thank… you…” he replies, his hands grabbing your waist, smoothing his thumbs over your skin. “You’re more beautiful than the Diathim.”

Your eyebrow raises. “You’re saying I’m prettier than an angel?”

“Songs should be sung of your beauty—there’s nothing that compares in the entire galaxy.” He says it with such conviction your breath hitches, taken aback by the look on his face telling you he means it.

“We should get married,” you blurt out.

“What…?”

“I want to marry you again and see your face when we say our vows.”

You’re fascinated by how you can see him visibly soften, his mouth turning up in a grin that reveals an adorable dimple, reaching his hand to cup your cheek.

“Will you marry me again?” he asks.

You’re matching his look, nodding as you say, “Yes!” Unable to keep yourself from leaning down to press your mouth to his, moaning when you taste yourself in the passionate kiss. His arms wrap around your back, hugging you close to him, losing yourselves for a minute in your happiness.

You’re panting when you break apart.

You’d wanted to take your time getting your mouth all over his body, but there’s a sudden need to have him inside of you—sitting up on your knees, you snake your hand between your bodies to take his cock in hand, pressing it to your aching entrance.

You moan in unison as you lower yourself on him, watching his face as his mouth falls open, his hands grabbing onto your hips, the thick girth of him stretching you open and filling you inch by glorious inch until your thighs meet, feeling so unbelievably full.

“Stars, you feel so good,” you breathe.

“Not as good as you feel.” His words come out strained, watching his throat work as he swallows hard.

You do an experimental roll of your hips, making his fingers tighten in your skin.

His eyes are on yours. “I want to see you come while I’m inside you,” he husks. “Can you do that? Can you use me to make yourself feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer, starting to move up and down, your hands on his chest for leverage.

You love having him inside you—the way he fits so perfectly, rubbing against all the right spots, joining you together.

His hands are on your body while you ride him, rubbing along your ribs and over your stomach, moving up to palm the weight of your breasts, tweaking your nipples, sending jolts straight to your pussy.

“Ride my cock, pretty girl,” Din says in a low rasp. “I love watching you—so beautiful. Use me.”

Adjusting your hips has him sliding into that sacred place that makes your head spin, rising and falling at a pace that’s slowly building you up and up.

Arousal is dripping out of you and down his shaft, allowing you to move with ease, Din’s eyes locked on your face, groans spilling from his throat, looking wrecked at you bouncing on him.

His cock is hot and hard inside you, lifting your hips and slamming your ass down, working yourself closer to your end.

It’s exhilarating to be able to see how good he feels and how much he’s enjoying himself. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes lust-blown, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“I know you’re almost there.” His words come out rough. “You gonna come for me? Gonna be my good girl? I know you can do it. Wanna watch you—wanna see you come, my love.”

“So close,” you pant.

You’re rising and falling, moans slipping from your lips, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter until it’s snapping, and you’re coming with a gasp of his name. Your eyes close as pleasure expands from your center, spreading through your body.

“So beautiful,” Din marvels in a groan. “Such a good girl. I love you—I love watching you.”

“I love you, too,” you breathe, your orgasm beginning to ebb.

A surprised sound comes from you when suddenly you’re jostled, Din groaning as he sits up, keeping you on him as he gets situated with you in his lap, spreading his legs on the bed for balance.

You’re now face to face, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his lips find yours, kissing you tenderly, his other arm wrapped around your back to hug you to him. You thread your fingers in his hair, melting into him, accepting his tongue when he deepens the kiss.

You’ve found you love kissing. There was something about it that was so intimate—sharing breaths, being so close, and tasting him.

His hair is so soft and thick, scratching your nails gently along his scalp and feeling him shiver beneath you.

His hands go to your ass, gripping it tight while he starts moving you in his lap, his lips still on yours.

“Want you close,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Need you close.”

You bounce up and down on his throbbing cock, your knees on either side of his hips helping you rise and fall, fucking yourself on him as you keep kissing.

His words are muffled against your lips, “You’re so beautiful, strong, fierce, loving, and good with the kid.” He moves you faster, using his strength to lift you, grunting in exertion. “I watched you tonight with him—I want more little ones.”

The thought makes you clench around him.

“Din,” you moan, feeling him smile.

“I want to raise more warriors with you,” he continues. “I want to father your children. I want to fuck a baby into you,” he groans, his cock twitching. You can tell he’s getting close as you breathe hard, your thighs burning deliciously. “I want to fill you up, fuck you full of me over and over until it takes.” His words have arousal curling in your gut and the familiar heat building at the base of your spine, bouncing up and down in his lap. “I want to see you round with my child. I want to have as many as you’ll allow. I want to fill the ship, then a house with our kids. I want to see you mother more of my children and sing them the songs of old. I want you, all of you.”

It all sounds so good, wanting the same, gasping, “Yes.”

“Can I?” he asks in a wrecked tone. “Can I fuck a baby into you? Can I get you pregnant? Please. Please, can I father your child?”

“Stars, yes,” you moan. “Please. I want one. Fill me up—keep me full.”

He groans loudly, kissing you hard, making you gasp in surprise when he tackles you onto your back on the mattress, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, holding himself up on his forearms beside your head.

He starts moving fast, fucking into you with abandon to chase his high. The wet slap of skin on skin is sounding in the room, along with his grunts muffled by your mouth, filling you over and over, his thick cock pushing in so deep he’s kissing your womb.

You grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to hang onto, digging your nails into his golden skin. The kisses are sloppy, the tension rising in your belly. His pace gets uneven until he pushes in one last time, going as deep as he can, coming with a ragged groan. You can feel him jerk inside you and the wet pulse as warmth fills your depths. He rocks his hips, moving a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, already so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you cresting softly with a moan of his name. Your body tenses up, Din grunting as your cunt chokes his dick, working his spend even deeper inside you.

“That’s it,” he groans. “So good to me, my good girl.”

You’re both panting, and he moves his head to the crook of your neck, collapsing on top of you.

It makes you smile when you press your fingers into his sweat-damp hair; how soothing it is to just run your fingers through the brown waves and lightly scratch at his scalp, Din practically purring.

“That’s so nice.” He slurs.

“I like It, too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It’s comfortable as you both lie there, not caring about your sweaty bodies or his weight on you, just basking in the afterglow together.

It feels like you’re so close, neither of you would know where one ends and the other begins—so tangled up in each other it feels as though you’re one—one body, one heart, one soul.

Minutes pass in silence, Din groaning as he moves to get up, kneeling between your spread legs. His eyes are locked on where you’re connected, hissing when he pulls himself out of you. Your eyes widen when his fingers catch some of his come that’s dripped out of you, moaning when he pushes it back inside.

“Don’t want to waste a drop,” he says. “Can you keep it inside, my love?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

He smiles.

“Thank you.”

His hand leaves you watching in interest as he pushes the digits between his lips, sucking them clean with a groan. They leave his mouth with a pop, his gaze on yours.

“I’ll never tire of how good you taste.” He says.

“I feel like you’re going to be insatiable.” You tease.

He smiles, and you love it so much that you wish to see it every day for the rest of your life.

“I’m already insatiable.”

“Yes, you are.” You reply with the same look on your face.

Quickly he’s off the bed and coming back with a warm wet cloth, gently wiping you down and cleaning himself up, it getting tossed to the floor when he’s done.

He pulls you to lay correctly on the bed in his arms with your heads cushioned by pillows, facing him.

The lights are still on, and you just stare into each other's eyes, losing yourself in his dark pools, him smiling softly under his mustache.

“I’m so happy to know your face,” he whispers, his big hand sliding along your cheek. “I love you.”

“I’m happy to know your face, too,” you say just as softly. “The face of the man I love, who will father my children.”

He smiles brightly, his eyes crinkling adorably at the edges, leaning in to kiss you.

There’s light banging heard at the door that can only be made by tiny fists, Din and you separating immediately with wide eyes.

“Were we too loud?” You whisper.

Din grimaces, answering, “Maybe?”

You’re both moving immediately, jumping out of bed and tugging on your clothes, the air in the room tinged with sex. At least the kid chose to wake up after you’d finished. It was always incredibly awkward when he interrupted during.

The two of you look disheveled, Din’s hair a mess on top of his head, and his cheeks tinted pink.

“Go wash your hands and face,” you tell him. “I’ll get him.” Neither of you bothered putting on your helmets, your husband heading for the en suite, while you made it to the door, disengaging the lock and opening it.

You’re smiling as you look down at the child, him staring up at you with a weird look on his face.

“Hey, buddy,” you say, and his eyes get big, him babbling something pointing at your head. It makes you laugh. “It’s okay,” you reassure, leaning down to pick him up. He’s staring at you, his big eyes somehow bigger. “This is what I look like under the helmet.” His little clawed hand reaches out, pressing it to your cheek as he coos, and it warms your heart.

“Hey, you little womp rat,” Din’s warm voice says as he enters the room, you turning so the kid can see him. The child is babbling up a storm, holding his arms out, and Din chuckles, taking him as soon as he’s within reach. “Did we wake you up?” he asks. “We were just, uh, sparring, yeah, we were sparring, there’s nothing you need to worry about.” The kid is looking at him in wonder, reaching to touch Din’s cheek, the man smiling. “Yeah, I’m not wearing my helmet.” The child looks at you and back at Din, chattering up a storm.

“I think he’s confused.” You tell your husband.

“Yeah, I think he is.” His attention goes back to the kid in his arms, rubbing his back, speaking in a soft tone, “Hey, it’s okay, buddy.” The child goes silent as he listens. “There, uh, were those other Mandalorians who took off their helmets, and we decided to do the same. Everything’s okay. It’s still us.” He’s cooing again, patting Din’s cheek, making his dad chuckle. “It’s my face.” The kid yawns. “You ready to go back to bed?”

You’re already moving toward the mattress, taking off the top blanket, tossing it onto the floor, and pulling back the sheets.

Din walks over and gets in on the other side while still holding the child.

The boy ends up on Din’s chest, his tiny hand reaching up to rub the man’s earlobe while softly babbling—you crawl in next to your husband, resting your head on his shoulder, the lights turned off.

You’re beyond happy to know what the man you love looks like, and you can’t wait to add to your little family, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Your period is almost a month late, and you have a feeling it has nothing to do with stress.

Din was going to be ecstatic.

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dawnagustd · 2 years

Text

unconditionally || kth

➼ a/n: Hi loves! So I wanted to drop off this piece before I left. it’s not the usual stuff I post but it’s something I’ve had on my chest for a while. I’ve been a bit down because of mom guilt and other things—having to work, go to school, and now leave the kiddo for 2 weeks. I just feel really horrible for always being so busy but it’s all for our future and it’s finally about to pay off. Her dad told me I shouldn’t be so hard on myself and to try to get it off my shoulder so that’s how I started writing this. No planning, no outline, just me typing and trying to get myself in a better place mentally. It worked…I cried but I feel so much better. I want to give a special thanks to Isi @raplinesmoon for not only beta reading this story for me but for being so supportive and leaving such kind notes. I really appreciate you and thank you so much.

Read on AO3

“Congratulations, babe. You’ve done it, and I am so so proud of you!”

Your older sister Kaylin showers you with ropes of streamers, not caring if any gets in your hair. She tosses the empty contents behind her and immediately pulls you in for an embrace. What usually is an annoying feeling becomes a joyous one because she’s absolutely right. You did it.

After all those classes and court appearances, two years of sobriety, you’ve finally crawled out of the hole of self destruction you managed to dig yourself. And it’s been a long time coming.

You remember the day everything went downhill. You and your ex were fighting, like you had always done. Both of you were young when you married, but you thought you had it all figured out. No one told you how rough marriage can be, and neither of you were prepared for the stress of raising two children within a home that already had enough problems.

You had an addiction and Taehyung was a workaholic. Fighting and arguing was a norm during your ten years of marriage, and no matter what you did to fix it—therapy, vacations, babies. Nothing could mend the damage that had already been done. Your biggest regret was bringing your children right into the eye of the storm. They were really young at the time, but they saw and heard it all.

None of this is fair to them, and you’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. Things may be over between you and their father, but you still want to somehow remain a family. You were never ready to be a mother, however you love your children more than anything, and you miss them so much.

Losing custody was the hardest blow you ever took, and in the beginning, you almost gave up. If Kaylin wasn’t there to help you through it, you’d still be sleeping on a blowup mattress in her one bedroom apartment. She pushed you to get up, pull yourself together and handle your legal business, find a job, and ultimately move on with the divorce from Taehyung so you both could move forward.

That was two years ago, and the court had ordered that your visitation with the children be supervised by their grandparents due to the nature of your car accident. No other person was injured or involved, but a criminal record isn’t a good look for a mother of two. The judge ruled, and he ruled hard. However, you didn’t argue or complain. You knew it was your fault entirely, and you deserve the punishment you received and some. But you’ve paid your debts to society and now it’s time to get back on track. Though, that is easier said than done.

“I owe it all to you, big sis. I owe you everything,” you admit with the utmost gratitude. In a way, Kaylin saved your life, and if the opportunity to repay her ever presented itself, you’d jump on it immediately.

Your sister withdraws and looks at you with her hands still resting on your shoulders.

“You owe me absolutely nothing, but a glimpse of that beautiful smile of yours. This is a huge day for you; I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. It’s just—”

“You’re nervous?” she intervenes.

You nod and she gives you a sympathetic look. “Aww, sweetie. Everything’s going to be okay. Trust me, once they get to your place, they’ll be so thrilled. They’ll finally have some alone time with mommy and it’ll be one big girls’ night. You just watch and see.”

She’s always been the cheerful one, and you are so fond of that trait. Your mom was like that and you always thought deep down, she was supposed to be the one who got married and had kids. She’d be a perfect mom and wife, unlike you—a screw up in its truest form.

“I sure hope you’re right, Kay,” you sigh.

Your sister’s eyes soften and she gives your arm a gentle squeeze. “Aren’t I always?”

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes when she touches your nose, still treating you like she did when you were kids. “We should probably sit over there so he can see us when they–ooph!”

As you’re walking down the park’s trail to the main entrance, someone accidentally bumps into you and makes you drop your phone. The man quickly bends down to pick it up and place it in your hand, apologizing repeatedly for not paying attention. When your eyes reach his face, you’re blown away by how handsome he is, and how his smile and skin seems to radiate a certain glow.

“Hey,” he breathes, staring back at you with the same awestruck gaze.

“H…Hi.”

Seconds pass before he clears his throat and straightens his posture.

“Sorry, where are my manners? I’m Scott,” the stranger holds out his hand and you look at it hesitantly for a moment, “...or not.”

You blink a few times, realizing you’re being rude. You take his hand before he retracts then you introduce yourself while fighting through a bit of embarrassment.

“I’m, _____. So nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he states, focus drifting towards the left. You realize your sister’s still standing there and you quickly involve her in the conversation.

“Oh, this is my sister, Kaylin. Kaylin, Scott.”

“What a pleasure,” she winks. You slap her arm, and the man tries his best to stifle a laugh.

“Anyway, I have to get going to meet some friends. It was nice meeting you both, and I’m so sorry about bumping into you.”

You wave it off. “It’s fine. I wasn’t paying attention either, and my phone is scratch-free.”

“Well, that’s awesome. I’ll see you around then?”

“Oh, I’m just here to meet—”

“She will, Scott. I’ll make sure of it,” your sister interrupts yet again.

You look at her with your mouth open. Scott leaves you with an optimistic grin, and as soon as he’s out of sight you turn to your sister. “I cannot believe you sometimes.”

She huffs. “Girl, it will not kill you to have some fun. You’re still young, beautiful…sexy.”

“Shut up, will you?”

“I’m serious. Listen, at some point you’re going to have to get back out there. Today could have been a start. Even if it was just a little one-nighter, if you know what I mean.”

Your sister’s eyebrows wiggle, and she does that little annoying thing she does with her shoulders every time she’s trying to make her point seem plausible. However, dating is the last thing on your mind right now.

“Yeah, I’m just not sure all of that is for me anymore,” you reply, lowering your head, and trying to erase the negative thoughts from your mind.

“Hey,” she touches your arm, prompting you to look her way, “You move at your own pace, okay? But don’t count yourself out just because you have some battle scars. There are people out there who will accept you for who you are, and love you regardless of such.”

You nod in agreement with her and continue your journey to the main entrance, looking at your phone to check the time.

“Heard from him yet?”

“Yeah, he should be pulling up any minute now,” you answer, still looking at your screen.

“Well, I think he’s here.”

“How do you know–ohh.” A large black SUV drives into the parking lot and finds a space towards the rear. Your breath gets caught in your throat when your ex climbs out of the driver seat, taking off his suit jacket and tossing inside before he shuts the door. He opens the back side door, and helps your two children out.

They jump around wanting to go to the playground but Taehyung just looks around while rolling up his sleeves. There’s not a brown hair out of place, and his designer clothing makes him look like he just stepped out of a magazine. His dark shades shield his vision from the sun, but you can still feel his piercing stare when his focus finally zooms in on you. Your knees buckle and you become lightheaded within seconds.

“Or maybe you should call your ex for a booty call every once in a while,” your sister comments, making you snap out of it.

“Kaylin.”

“Hey, I’m just saying, you two are on good terms and you’re single…you could just—”

“No! Absolutely not. Kay, please don’t make this awkward. I’m already shaking,” you plead.

“Alright. I was just kidding.” You sigh in relief and your sister smirks before she turns to watch Taehyung and the kids make their way towards you. “Mostly.”

“You bitc…Hi kiddos!!”

Just seeing your babies after a week apart has you dropping to your knees to hold them close. They wrap their little arms around you and you spend the moment taking in everything about them—their voices, their smells, how much they’ve changed since the last time you saw them. It’s almost an overwhelming feeling knowing that this visitation isn’t going to end with them leaving so soon. You’ll have them for the whole weekend, and it’s the best Mother’s Day gift you can ask for.

“Where’s grandma and grandpa?” Khloe asks straight away.

“Well, they’re at home. We’re going to go see them on Sunday,” you answer, smoothing some of her hair back into its ponytail.

“So we’re gonna see you twice this weekend?” Jade quips with excitement. However, her features fall slightly when you shake your head.

“Actually…you’re going to be spending the weekend with me.”

The girls look at each other, confusion etched over their faces. The youngest, Jade, is the first to speak. “Is daddy coming too?”

You look up at Taehyung who’s pushed his glasses up on his head, combing some of his bangs away from his face in the process. Thankfully, he helps you out and explains your new arrangements to the girls.

“Your mom wants to have a girls’ night,” he leans in and pretends to deliver top secret information, “No boys allowed so, I gotta bounce.”

“But dad…”

“Khloe, remember if you wanna start having sleepovers with friends, you’re going to have to show me how responsible you are. Your mom throws the best sleepovers so she can teach you a ton of cool stuff,” he reminds her, giving you a wink when she isn’t looking.

You silently thank him then turn your attention back to the girls.

“So, y’all ready to have some fun?”

You try to sound cheerful and excited, but your fear and nervousness seeps right through and tears down your façade. Both Taehyung and Kaylin look at you with pity, but stay silent and allow you to reclaim your role in their lives. You have to start somewhere is what you keep telling yourself.

“Okay, mommy,” they both reply in unison and you release a much needed breath.

You rise to your feet and nod at your sister, signaling her to get the car ready while you go over last minute details with Taehyung. “Alright, let’s go get your things, shall we?”

“Okay, who wants pizza?!”

With a lineup of movies ready to go and two boxes of pepperoni pizza ordered, your mommy-daughter sleepover has officially begun. It started off rocky with a few moments of awkwardness and a forgetting that Jade likes her bath filled with her favorite toys, you finally manage to get your kids settled on the couch without any complaints from them. You just hope you can keep it that way.

“Ew, pizza is gross. Dad makes us lasagna on Fridays,” Khloe whines.

“Yeah, we want lasagna, mommy,” says Jade as she rubs her tummy.

You look between the two girls back and forth with your mouth slightly ajar. “We just had pizza two weeks ago from this place, and you said it was your fav.”

Your brain replays the day you met them at the pizzeria downtown vividly. They were begging their grandparents to bring them back. You thought for sure this would bring smiles on their faces.

“I mean don’t you wanna try a piece? It’s your fav—”

“Can’t you make us lasagna like daddy? Khloe whines with Jade being her echo.

You look towards your next to empty kitchen and lower your head in shame. Even if you had all the ingredients, you still couldn’t cook something like that. You don’t have the skill.

“No, sweetheart. Mommy, can’t make that.”

They both let out defeated sighs and sink into the couch. “Well, how about I order you something else, or maybe I can make something else?”

They both look at each other and then back to you. Khloe is the only one to speak.

“It’s okay, mom—”

“Can we go home?” Jade blurts out, putting a sinking feeling into your stomach.

It’s no secret that the girls live with Taehyung and that he has full custody despite the new schedule, but hearing your child refer to somewhere other than with you home, hurts you so deeply you have to take a step back.

Her older sister slaps her arm and she winces. “Shut up, Jade.”

You tell her not to hit her sister and turn to set the pizza boxes on the coffee table so you can secretly push back your tears. You return with a brave face, and a smile even you find believable. You’ve been waiting for this moment for two long years, but you will not force it. Even if you have to wait two more, you will if that makes them comfortable.

“Do you want me to take you back to your dad’s?”

They both hesitate, but nod timidly.

“No worries, let me grab your things and then we’ll hit the road, okay?”

They cheer and dance around, finally being happy for the first time since they left the park. You leave them to do their victory dance and make your way down the hall to get their bags. Slowly, your hands begin to shake because there’s just one little issue about taking them home. You haven’t driven at night since the accident, and it’s always been because you’ve had a fear of doing so. However, calling Taehyung would probably make him a little upset since Khloe broke her promise and you know how it affects her when she disappoints him. You’ll just toughen up and come up with something to let them off the hook while you’re on the way across town. And hopefully, you’ll make it back here without breaking down. You just hope that one day you can become the mother they deserve.

With the girls secured in the backseat, you start your car and take a deep breath. It hasn’t rained in about a week, but tonight it’s storming. It’s pouring down so hard the droplets rock your tiny sedan. Your mind can only replay the screeching sounds of your tires as you tried to slow down that night two years ago. The flash you saw right before slamming into the tree is still a vivid memory you hold onto. It haunts you, terrifies you so much that you want nothing more than to run inside rather than reenact the tale. However, one look at your daughters’ optimistic gazes into the stormy night with the excitement of seeing their father dancing in their smiles, you know that they’re just as thrilled as you were upon their arrival at the park—and you’d never rob them of that.

“Are we ready to go?” you turn and ask the girls. They both cheer and nod their heads, leading you to respond with a nervous smile. Your shake hand puts the car in drive but forget to put on the wipers so you make a haste to reach for the lever.

The blades startle you immediately, causing you to shriek and cover your ears before you realize it’s just the wipers. The girls giggle, thinking it’s a joke or that their mom is just afraid of window wipers, but they have no idea of the level of fear coursing through your body.

You tremble as you get yourself together, and eventually after several deep breaths, you’re able to pull out of your driveway into the slippery streets, praying you get your babies across town safely. Taehyung’s place is about a 20 minute drive, and you’ll spend every minute of it trying to ignore the terror that’s trying to take control of your mind.

“Hey, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time. We’re outside, and I know I have key, but I didn’t want to barge in—”

“I’m on my way down,” Taehyung responds quickly, not hanging up until he swings open his front door. Concern is etched over his features, but Jade and Khloe swarm him before he can say anything.

“Daddy, we missed you!” Jade exclaims, squeezing him tightly with her little arms. Khloe is attached to his hip and he smooths her hair before turning back to you.

“Wha—”

“I’m sorry. I have really bad cramps and I just couldn’t keep up with them like this,” you quickly lie.

Taehyung’s lips hold so many questions and he’s prepared to ask them but Khloe interrupts him.

“Can you make lasagna, dad? I’m so hungry.”

Her doe eyes look up at him innocently and he instantly melts, unable to say no to his oldest little girl. “Alright, but after dinner you both are going straight to bed.”

You smile. “I’ll go get their bags and then I’ll steal some kisses before I leave.”

“Wait, did you drive here yourself?” Taehyung questions before you can step out into the rain. You’re already drenched so it won’t really matter if you got rained on at this point. You just wished your shoes didn’t make these awful sounds when you walk.

“Yeah.” You turn around and find him shaking his head.

“We’ll get them in the morning. You have something in your purse right?” He points to your handbag that’s still clinging on your shoulder due to you forgetting to remove it in the car.

“Huh?”

“You said you were…so I figured you had some emergency stuff in your bag.”

“Oh yeah,” you slap your forehead, scolding yourself for forgetting about your little lie that quickly, “I do, but—”

“Well, come inside and eat with us. You still have clothes here and you can take one of the spare rooms. You don’t need to be driving in that storm; it’s getting worse, and,” he steps a bit closer so he can whisper, “Kaylin told me how difficult it is for you to drive in these conditions, just consider staying for a moment at least. Please? For the girls?”

For the girls. That’s all it really took for you. Though you dread stepping through that door, the same one you walked out of right before you ruined everything, you’re filled with warmth knowing you’ll be having dinner with your daughters tonight after all. You’ll take what you can get, even if it pulls you back to the place you swore you’d never return to.

“Oh, alright. I guess I am a little hungry too,” you jest and Taehyung gives you a smirk.

“Well, right this way my ladies. The three of you may go and throw on your finest evening gowns and meet me in the dining area shortly.”

You and your daughters all giggle as you enter the dimly lit foyer, and he taps your shoulder before you can ascend the stairs.

“If you need me, I’m here. I know it’s not easy,” he speaks softly.

You nod. “Thanks, Taehyung. I know.”

It took a while to get to this point in your relationship, but you know even after years of turmoil and a divorce, you’re in a better place. You respect each other and you communicate exceptionally. If only you’d done this in the beginning, your marriage probably would have been a lot stronger and would have been able to withstand the rough patches you had. If only.

“Khloe, when you were a baby, you had these things called blow outs. Every time you did that, your dad would come to me screaming and saying he couldn’t do it. It was hilarious,” you say to the oldest of your pair.

She buries her face in her arm and giggles at her father’s flushed face. Just recalling the memory of dirty diapers has the man shivering. But of course, he’s quick to counter.

Taehyung scoffs with a slight jerk of his head. “Touché. I remember the first time Jade puked in your face, you cried in the shower for almost an hour.”

“Did you really have to go there?” you whine playfully, looking at your daughters with a little pout. Jade gives you a hug and Khloe walks around to do the same and you poke your tongue out at Taehyung to claim your little victory.

“Nope, I didn’t have to go there. But I know two little princesses that need to go get their rest, yeah?”

They both begin to move, but still complain.

“Okay, daddy,” they sigh in sync. The girls make their way to the stairs and Taehyung starts to clean up the dining table. You quickly get up from your seat to help him.

“I’ll tuck you in and stuff once I’m done in the kitchen,” he calls and you respectfully interject.

“Taehyung, I can clean this up. I don’t mind.”

He declines. “No, no. I got it. Just sit and I’ll—”

“I insist, Taehyung…meaning let me do it or I’ll do it anyway.”

His shoulders drop and he shakes his head, a small smile rising to his cheeks.

“Why did I even try?”

“You should ask yourself that,” you reply.

Taehyung’s grin widens. “Maybe I just wanted you to get a little sassy.”

“Hey!” You throw an uneaten roll at him but he dodges it before it makes contact.

“You’re funny. I’m gonna shower and take off to bed after I get them settled. You need anything else?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks, Taehyung,” you assure and continue with your task.

He nods. “Well…I guess I’ll see you in the morning then?”

“Yup.”

Out of your peripheral, you notice Taehyung’s mouth opens to say something, but he goes against it and walks away. “Night, ______.”

“You too, Taehyung.”

When everyone disappears and the room is filled with silence, you wonder how you’re going to sleep in this house that holds so much misery and heart ache. You’ll try to focus on the positives like being here with your daughters and maybe, just maybe—the demons of the past won’t bother you too much tonight.

You tried to sleep, you really did. But the longer you lay there tossing and turning, the more horrible memories of this home flood your mind. It all started after Taehyung’s promotion. He worked more and came home less. The man would rather spend the night at a hotel than come home to his wife. You didn’t mean to bicker or complain about never seeing him, but the change affected you more than he ever understood.

He thought you were just bored and wanted company, so he got you pregnant—twice. However, the girls only caused a bigger rift in your marriage, no matter how much you deny it. You were raising two children on your own with little help from Taehyung. Each time your six weeks were up, he’d be right back at work, leaving you alone to take care of the home.

You struggled to say the least. Something simple as making dinner brought you great difficulty. You could barely boil water, let alone make a meal for four. You felt like the world’s worst mother and wife. Nothing you did was right, and Taehyung made sure you knew that. He’d come home pissed and upset. The kids would be crying, the house would be a mess, and dinner would be late or unavailable. He always lost his shit when you said you’d get something delivered.

And you weren’t innocent either. You were sure to remind him of his long work hours and even accused him of seeing someone when you knew he’d never go there, but you were bitter and spiteful. You couldn’t help yourself. You had to fight fire with fire. Until the day Taehyung ceased your flame and hit below the belt.

Not only did he tell you were a horrible wife, but also a piss-poor mother. That’s when it all started. The stress, the striving for perfection, the drinking. It started off with a few glasses of wine at night and quickly progressed to something much stronger. You never did it when you were alone with the girls, only when Taehyung was home. That was the only way you could face him, stand toe to toe in your heated arguments without falling apart. It made you numb, it made you invincible. But even vodka couldn’t shield you from Taehyung’s rage.

“You’re pathetic, and that bottle has dragged your sorry ass right out of our lives because I can’t do this shit anymore.”

You remember the way you nearly collapsed when he said those words. The only response you could give was to tell him to burn in hell to which he replied, “not before you,” and he almost got his wish. You left at that very moment, in the middle of a severe thunderstorm with nothing but your car keys and a bottle of vodka in tow. That was the night of the accident, the night you nearly lost your life.

After that day, everything changed. It was like the universe was telling you and Taehyung, life was too short, fix it or it’ll get fixed for you. Something clicked in you that never had before. You knew your marriage was over but you still had two beautiful children to raise. Taehyung wanted to pay for everything—your legal fees, your living expenses. He even wanted to pull some strings to make your punishment less severe. However, you declined. Whatever you got, you deserved and instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you got up and did your part in making it right.

But being here again, for the first time in two years, brings back so much pain and hurt that getting any sleep seems impossible. You wonder how he does it. How he sleeps in this house every night after everything that’s happened. Taehyung’s always been the stronger one so you imagine it doesn’t phase him much. You do know he blames himself, however. He puts all the burden on his shoulders, and you wish he wouldn’t. You’re the fuck up, not him. In the end, you chose to pick up a bottle, and it ruined everything. You should have tried harder to be a better wife, a better mom, and a better person. Now you’re afraid it may be too late.

“Can’t sleep?”

You tear your gaze away from the moonlit sky, and turn to the familiar voice around you.

“Oh, I was uhh…grabbing a glass of water,” you avoid the question.

Taehyung nods as he slips his hands inside of his shorts, leaning against the kitchen counter. His hair is now in its natural wavy state, falling over his eyes and giving him that boyish look you fell in love with. He clears his throat and moves forward with small talk.

“Is there…something on your mind? You’ve been down here for a while.”

You shake your head.

“No, I was just,” you turn towards the window and fix your eyes on the calm and gentle night sky, “...enjoying the view.”

You return your attention back to him and find him partly smiling with his eyes fixated on his fuzzy slippers. “Same here,” he whispers, barely audible.

“Oh, how long have you been standing here?”

You didn’t even notice his presence until he spoke to you.

“Not very long. Looks like the rain finally stopped, huh?” he comments.

“Yeah, finally. I thought it never would.”

Taehyung looks up and stills, whatever he was planning on saying is forgotten in the moment. “You’ve been crying.”

Your fingertips touch your cheeks and feel the dried tear stains from earlier, but yet you still deny the accusation.

You laugh. “I’m fine, just watery eyes.”

“Hm, okay.”

You quickly down the rest of your water and turn away from him, pretending to wash your hands in hopes that he’ll grow tired and return to bed, but Taehyung is always persistent.

“I always forget how short you are.” He makes his way toward you and takes his place behind you with only a few inches to spare. He looks out of the window over your head and doesn’t move, making your hair raise due to his close proximity.

“Taehyung.”

“Hm?”

You face him and you have to take a deep breath before you speak. His eyes are barely visible underneath his bangs and thick lashes, but they still hold you captive with their fierceness.

“I’ve already told you before. I’m not short, you’re just—”

“I’m not tall,” he interrupts.

“Tall-ish.”

Taehyung’s soft laughter fills the kitchen and brings a smile to your face as well. You both giggle and try not to wake the girls, but are almost failing miserably, especially when you try to put the glass on the top shelf without a stool. He takes it away from you and puts it there himself, earning a playful eye roll from you.

“I could have done that,” you tell him once you turn around. He folds his arms and scoffs.

“You’re fucking hilarious.”

As the laughter slowly calms, his eyes drift to the garbage disposal and lingers there for a few seconds. You cannot help but follow his gaze out of curiosity and notice the empty wine bottle lying among the other discarded items.

“Taehyung, I didn’t-That’s not mine. I promise,” you attest truthfully.

He closes the drawer quickly. “I know. That’s mine from earlier. I’m so sorry. I should have done a better job at getting rid of that. I just didn’t know you were—”

“No, it’s fine. I can see it. Smell it…I still don’t want any.”

Taehyung nods before his features raise in a flash of sudden thought.

“But even if it was yours, I wouldn’t judge you for that, you know?...Whether it was just to help you relax or you were slipping, I’d never make you feel like you aren’t safe here. Not anymore.”

“You don’t have to do that. If I ever slip, you should—”

“Be the man I should have been and helped the mother of my children through what she was going through.”

You shake your head.

“You promised me you wouldn’t think like that.”

Taehyung grits his teeth, fighting back emotions he’s probably been holding in for years. “I’ve tried, but I can’t let myself off the hook like that, not when you’re the only one who had to suffer for the shit I put you through.”

“You are not responsible for me giving up, I am. So stop it. Please.”

He shifts his focus elsewhere, attempting to hide his glossy eyes from you, but it’s impossible to not hear the shakiness in his voice.

“But I’m responsible for helping you back on your feet, and that’s in our vows. That is what I promised you, remember?”

“We have no vows, Taehyung! Not anymore. You divorced me, remember?” you argue and the feeling that follows is not one you favor. Regret, sorrow, pain…the list goes on. Bottom line, you should have never said it.

Taehyung nods, running his hand over his face. “Yeah,” he clears his throat, “you’re absolutely right about that.”

“No, I didn’t…I should–Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

In a flash, you find yourself wrapped in his embrace stiffened with shock and unsureness. Comfort surrounds you but you’re too afraid to fall into it. It’s foreign in these arms.

“I just wanna be there for you. Just once,” he murmurs while his face is buried in your hair.

“But you have been…more than you’ll ever know.”

Taehyung sighs. “I could do so much more, but you’d never let me.”

“Taehyung, I owe you everything for allowing me to still be in the girls’ lives. So if there’s anything I can do for you, please—let me know.”

“I wouldn’t keep them away from you. I’d never do that,” he assures. As seconds go by, you become more relaxed and accustomed to your current position. Taehyung seems to be in some sort of daydream, a place that brings him comfort. You wonder where that is. “You know…sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just said fuck it and kissed you.”

You pull away and look at him. “You’ll only know if you find out.”

He scoffs.

“Like you’d let me do something like that.”

“I’m still in your arms, aren’t I?” you point out.

“Yeah. You are, huh?” he whispers while staring at your lips. Your body seems to gravitate towards him even though there’s literally no space between you.

“Mmhm.”

His fingertip comes up to gently trace your bottom lip and your lashes flutter. “I’d give a million.”

“Just do it, Taehyung. Kiss me.”

And so he does. He leans in and softly cups your face in his hand, bringing his lips within a hair’s distance before he finally gives in. Initially, there’s hesitance on both parts, but after time passes and you become more familiar with each other’s touch again, the more right it feels. You would describe as two pieces that are finally joined and connected to one another. A magnetic pull between you that doesn’t want to tear you apart. And you wouldn’t want to if you could because for once in a very long time, you aren’t afraid of allowing someone to see you when you’re so vulnerable.

Your hands explore and touch places you haven’t felt in years so when a small moan travels into Taehyung’s mouth in response to him squeezing your ass, he freezes.

“I should stop,” he suggests, preparing to withdraw.

“You don’t have to.”

Taehyung pulls away slightly, creases across his features. “But you aren’t feeling well.”

“Huh?”

Taehyung seems amused by your confusion.

“Earlier, you were in pain, no?”

Oh.

“Sorry, I kind of lied about that,” you shrug, giving an awkward smile. Taehyung’s response isn’t one you’re expecting; his hands grab your waist and spin you around. “Um, Tae—”

“You’ve been doing that a lot, haven’t you?”

His right hand ventures lower and you grip the counter to steady your wobbly legs.

“Doing what?” you ask him.

He breathes a small chuckle in your ear and his deep voice makes you shiver. “Lying. To me of all people.”

Taehyung slaps your ass and you bite back the mewl that tries to escape your mouth. You whimper into his other hand when it moves to your face. The sting leaves you trembling, but arouses you nevertheless. Your pussy clenches around nothing, letting you know how desperate it is to be filled.

“That shit’s so unnecessary.” He scolds you while tenderly caressing the area of contact. You don’t know how long you can hold yourself together like this because it’s been forever since you’ve been touched. You want to let it out, but you know he can drag this out if he wants to. Patience is going to be the key. “You know you’re still my girl.”

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you cry into his palm when another slap is delivered to your rear.

The sound resonates through the kitchen, ricocheting through the silence. You both stay still for a moment, not moving or making a sound until you’re sure it didn’t wake the girls. You feel him smiling against your skin when he knows the coast is clear.

“Fuck, Taehyung…you sound fucking sexy when you say that. Come here,” he mocks and spins you around.

His piercing gaze softens when he sees the fresh droplets rolling down your cheeks, but only for a second because he knows the real reason behind them is driven by nothing but want and pure lust. Taehyung pulls you close and wipes them away with his thumb. “I wanna take you upstairs…have a little fun with you.”

“Okay,” you answer. Your hands move from his face to his chest then eventually to his toned biceps, “Let’s go.”

“Yeah?...You sure?”

You nod. “Mmhm.”

“Come on,” Taehyung says as he grabs your hand and leads towards the stairs.

Your back falls onto the bed with a tiny thud. The softness envelops you almost immediately and your eyes naturally shut as you bask in the smell of home for the first time in two years. He still uses the same detergent, and it almost feels like you never left, but then reality hits you.

“You’ve changed your mind,” Taehyung mentions climbing on the bed and hovering over your body. He observes your features, trying to piece together what could be wrong on his own.

“That’s not it.” You sigh and he tilts his head with curiosity.

“Then what is?”

Your hand feels the fabric beneath you and you watch as the small wrinkles smooth out. A million thoughts running through your mind but only one actually makes itself known.

“Women.” Taehyung’s frown displays his confusion so you elaborate. “How many have you had since we…How many have been in here?”

“There was one, but she’s never been here. No one else ever has, and no one ever will. This is my marital bed, the one I shared with you. I may have not respected it when you were here, but I do now, baby. You mean too much to me; I could never do that.”

His orbs hold sincerity and you believe the words he says to you. It’s not like you’d say anything if he did, but knowing he hasn’t makes you more comfortable with lying here.

“Do I know her?” you can’t help but ask.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t even know her.” He laughs briefly but then his expression turns serious and he gives you a small smile. “Now can we focus on you?...That’s all I wanna do tonight.”

“Okay, Taehyung.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Giving him the greenlight reignites the fire in his dark brown orbs. He lowers himself and kisses your lips, then your chin; he gets lower and lower until he can’t access any more of your exposed skin. Taehyung’s solution is to move lower, and find home between your thighs.

He spreads them apart and begins to leave wet kisses up to the hem of your shorts. You feel a slight tug followed by a growl that ripples straight to your center. “Off.”

Your bottoms are pulled down quickly, and the action lets you know just how impatient Taehyung is right now. A lopsided grin adorns his handsome face when he takes in the sight of you lying beneath him in no panties, captivated by the slickness coating your folds. They glisten under the moonlight, exposing how deeply you desire him. You squeeze your thighs together when he tries to open you up for his greedy eyes.

“I already know how wet you are, just let me see,” he encourages and you slowly relax your muscles. You turn your head when he spreads you and the sound of your stickiness makes it to your ears. You can feel the smirk growing on Taehyung’s face when his fingers scissor your lips apart. “Look at that,” he whispers.

His digits move up and down your center, making your chest heave with exhilaration. He brings them together again and dips them into your opening, just enough to make your back arch. However, when he notices your closed eyes he’s quick to regather your attention.

“Hey,” he taps your clit with the pads of his fingers and your body twitches because of how sensitive you are, “I said watch.”

“Taehyung, I can’t.”

“Wanna come on my fingers?” he quips.

You nod feverishly, propping yourself on your elbows so your foreheads can touch. “Yeah. Yes, please.”

“Then watch, and tell me how deep you shove your fingers in your pussy when you think about me.”

Taehyung pushes two of his slender digits inside of your heat, causing your mouth to fall open. He pauses and gives you a moment to adjust to the sudden intrusion, however his gaze is anything but patient and gentle. “Please move,” you plead.

“How?”

“Fuck. Slow, and deep.” He adopts the pace you’ve given and finally begins to feed your needs. Your eyes stare at the amount of wetness that covers his fingers whenever he pulls out and you can hear him licking his lips as he imagines how you would taste on his tongue. Soon, you also become needier. “More,” you murmur while your lips are pressed on his.

“More?...Faster?” Taehyung’s movements quicken and a disgusting squelching sound fills the room, making your cheeks burn. Your hand grips his shirt for support and to keep yourself from floating away because he’s already taking you to your peak. “Of deeper?...How does my baby like her cunt fucked?”

You whimper when he buries his digits inside of you, keeping his same pace and curling them to make you come undone. A silent cry is the only response you can muster, and your eyes beg him not to stop until you’ve reached your release. But Taehyung has a few other plans.

He pushes you backwards, making you fall flat on the bed and dives into your wetness. His tongue attacks your throbbing clit, licking it in swift motions to add to your sensitivity. Your thighs threaten to close again, but his forearms and body weight keeps them apart. You squirm beneath him when his lips envelope the bundle of nerves, and your hands instinctively find his hair. Even though you grip onto his dark strands to keep your sanity, you still become overwhelmed with pleasure. Within seconds, you’re begging him to let you chase your high while grinding against his face.

Taehyung’s only response is to hook his arm around your thigh and lock you in place, forcing you to endure his merciless wet muscle until you’re contorting in his arms and softly punching the bed to cope with your intense orgasm.

“You taste so fucking good, you know that?” When his fingers abandon your leaking hole, it quivers from the loss, and Taehyung kisses the area to soothe you. Your body twitches and he releases a breathy laugh. His hands reach up to gently caress your nipples through your shirt while his lips and teeth work their way up your body. “I really can’t get enough of you.”

“Taehyung,” you whine when he uses his teeth to lift your shirt, exposing the faint stretch marks that crawl up your stomach.

“Don’t be like that, baby. You know how much I love this part.” Your body gives in once he starts tracing each stripe with the tip of his tongue, leaving a chill across your skin once the air hits the moisture. “I miss hearing your little moans. I miss you, _______.”

“I miss you too,” you gasp when his kisses reach the center of your stomach and his soft lips touch your navel. He smiles and gifts you with another, making you call out his name.

“I can tell. You’d probably come again if I kissed the right spot, huh?” He works his way up your body until he’s blocked by your shirt, and he quickly lifts it above your breasts. His mouth hovers over them, debating which one he wants to give attention to first. You try to guide him towards your lips but he grabs your wrists and pins your hands above your head. “Which one?”

“Tae—”

“Answer me, darling,” he warns, giving your wrists a squeeze.

You sigh in defeat. “The left one.”

Shock comes over you when he ventures to the right instead, and you immediately begin to make noises of pleasure. Taehyung has no choice but to pull your shirt up further and use it to muffle your moans. You’re so sensitive and driven by lust, you forgot the girls were sleeping down the hall.

Taehyung alternates between the two, nibbling and sucking each nipple with a precise amount of pressure to have you trembling underneath him. Your body arches into him, giving him the encouragement he needs to continue his torture with no mercy. Only when your body shakes with another pending orgasm does he release your nipple with an audible smack that causes you to mewl.

“You’re lucky,” he growls, pulling away to remove his shirt, “I need you to listen to me, okay?”

Your tongue pushes out your shirt so you can answer him.

“Yeah, okay.” Your eyes try to focus on his face, but when his dick springs out of his shorts, you have to hold yourself back from lunging forward and wrapping your lips around the reddened leaking tip.

“I’m going to give you a good fuck, but I need you to keep it down, alright?” Taehyung slaps your pussy with his thick shaft a few times to gather your arousal, and you have to bite your bottom lip to suppress a moan. He moves his hand up and down its length and coats it well before he brings the tip between your folds. The hard bluntness already has you whining. “Easy,” he reminds, running it along your slit.

You nod as tears gather in your eyes from the sensitivity and Taehyung’s finger touches your lips. “Shh,” he shushes as he slides in slowly.

He opts for covering your mouth with his palm to be safe then uses his other hand to tease your clit while you adjust to his size once again. “You’re still tight as fuck…still take me so well.”

“You feel so good,” you say after moving his hand.

“Yeah?...Can I go a little deeper? That’ll feel even better.”

You beckon for him to come closer and he does then you steal a kiss from his lips. He smiles as you wrap your limbs around him. “Fuck me.”

That’s all he needed to pull out of you and slam right back in. His self control finally falters and he fucks you with every ounce of pent up emotions he’s been burying all these years. The pace he sets is unforgiving, and your eyes roll back as pleasure builds within you once again. Your nails claw at anything they can reach—the pillows, the sheets, Taehyung. Anything to distract yourself from crying out as he pounds into you with everything he has.

“Taehyung,” you try to warn, but all it earns you is a bite on your right nipple. He rolls the bud between his teeth before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently to soothe it.

“Not now, rub your clit and I’ll tell you when to let go.” Taehyung grunts as he approaches his own release due to your walls clenching around him.

He rests on his forearms, allowing you to reach between you and stimulate your own bundle of nerves. Your thick salty tears roll down your cheeks from the overwhelming sensitivity.

Taehyung places a firm grip around your throat as his high approaches, and your eyes squeeze shut to focus on anything but coming. It feels so good, and all you want to do is surrender to your own pleasure.

When his thrusts begin to falter, he quickly requests your attention. “Keep those pretty eyes on me, okay? I want you to remember who makes you come on command.”

Your fingers continue to draw circles on your swollen clit, and when Taehyung angles his thrusts to target your g-spot, the coil in your stomach threatens to snap.

“Come,” he growls in your ear.

Your vision whitens and another intense orgasm ripples through your body. A gush of your arousal forces Taehyung’s cock out of you, but he doesn’t mind finishing himself off while he enjoys the show.

The light pressure on your throat while he searches for his release, only granting you the tiniest bit of air he can offer. Your fingers continue to work in and out of your heat, making a larger mess beneath as another wave of juices leak onto the bed. You cry Taehyung’s name as quietly as you can and he comforts you in response.

“I know, just let it out, sweetheart. You deserve it,” he moans softly as ropes of cum paint your thighs and stomach. His hand loosen its grip and slides down your body once you’ve both calmed down. You lie on the bed in silence as he uses his shirt to wipe away the seed on your skin, thinking about all the horrible things they may come next. However, none of those things ever leave your mind.

He lies down beside you and envelopes you in his arms. “You alright?”

You nod.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Stop lying to me,” he chides, but you can hear the silent plea for honesty in his tone.

“I haven’t been okay in a long time, Taehyung. But right now, I feel better.”

Your back is turned but you can sense the approval in his aura. “Good.”

A beat of silence passes, and the soft strokes of his thumb makes your eyelids low and heavy. However, you still hear his deep voice speaking in your ear.

“I’m so sorry, for everything.”

You sigh. “I know, and I forgive you. Now please forgive yourself,” you insist.

“I will try, as long as you keep trying.” Taehyung stifles a laugh when you yawn, and you playfully nudge him with your elbow. “Get some sleep, you have a big day tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?”

He snuggles closer and buries his face in the crook of your neck. “You’ll see. Goodnight, love.”

However, sleep is no longer present in your tired eyes. Curiosity takes over your mind and you’ll spend the next two hours lying awake and wondering what tomorrow holds.

You wake up to the smell of food for the first time since you moved out of Kaylin's apartment. It smells divine and your nose and stomach beg you to get up and follow it. However, before you leave Taehyung’s bedroom, you grab a pair of his sweats to cover your lower portion. You do your best at fixing yourself in the mirror, but eventually give up because no matter what you do, you still look like shit.

As you descend the stairs, you hear the girls talking to Taehyung in the kitchen and you pause before you enter to eavesdrop.

“Dad, why does mommy get scared so much?” you hear Khloe’s voice ask.

“Well,” the sound of him cracking eggs makes him pause so that the girl can hear when he speaks, “Mommy’s been through a lot and sometimes when something reminds her of all the bad stuff, it scares her a little bit.”

“But aren’t grown ups supposed to be brave?”

“Your mom is brave, sweetheart. She’s the strongest person I know,” he answers, and his words cause a warm feeling to grow inside you.

“Really? But she’s afraid of the window wipers.”

You hear Taehyung’s deep chuckle fill the kitchen, and your heart flutters. Hearing your ex-husband say these things about you means more than he could ever know. You don’t realize you have tears until they reach your chin.

“Hey, I’m afraid of window wipers too, those things are wild!”

The girls start laughing and you hear Jade’s voice next. “But daddy, you aren’t afraid of anything.”

“That’s not true, Jade. I’m afraid of a lot of things.”

“Really? Like what?”

You lean in a little bit closer so you don’t have to strain your ears and your breath gets taken away by the way Taehyung answers her question.

“Mmhm. I’m afraid of a lot of things, but do you know who I always call when I’m upset or afraid?”

Both girls begin to bubble with curiosity. “Who? Who, daddy?”

“Your mommy.” The room gets quiet as your daughters process the response he gives and wonder why you were his answer in the first place. You hang on with the same interest. “She’s my best friend.”

Your hand covers your mouth to keep your soft sobs trapped within your throat.

“How?...Mommies and daddies can be friends?” Jade questions him.

“Of course they can. Your mom and I were close for a really long time before we fell in love. We did everything together, and she’d always stick up for me when someone was giving me a hard time.”

Khloe is the next to ask her question. “But how are you best friends when you don’t talk to each other that much? Did you make mom sad? Is that why she cries?”

You step forward, preparing to enter the kitchen and change the subject since the topic has gotten heavy, but Taehyung puts on a brave face and gives her nothing but his honesty.

“I did. I made her sad. But we both ruined our friendship before that. We lost each other somehow, and now we’re trying to get back to where we started.”

“Does that mean mommy can come back home?” Khloe inquires with a hopeful tone in her voice.

“Well,” Taehyung sighs and turns around to check the food. You enter the kitchen unbeknownst to any of them and stand near the door frame to observe and wipe away your tears. “That’s entirely up to her. She’s always welcomed here, and I’d love for her to live with us again.”

“Me too,” Jade cheers.

Taehyung hums. “Have you told her that?”

“Have you?” Khloe counters, making you giggle.

Everyone turns towards the sound and finds you standing there awkwardly. The girls rush towards you screaming as loud as their little lungs allow them to. “Happy Mother’s Day, mommy!”

You wrap your arms around them.

“Thanks, my babies. I love you so much. How did you sleep?”

“Good!” Jade exclaims, grabbing your finger and bringing you further into the kitchen. “Did you sleep okay, mom?”

Taehyung snickers to himself and you roll your eyes.

“I slept okay, but I think a bear was snoring outside of my window,” you reply, smirking at Taehyung when he turns and narrows his eyes.

“Must be a jungle out there, I could have sworn I heard some sort of wild animal squealing all night,” he adds.

The girls bounce up and down with excitement, obviously to the middle finger you’ve presented to their dad while they share their hopes of exploring later. He motions for you to come over and he makes room for you to squeeze in front of him.

“How long were you standing there?” Taehyung asks you, grabbing your hand and putting the spatula in it. He guides it to the skillet that the eggs are frying on and silently teaches you how to make them perfectly while he speaks.

“Long enough,” you answer.

Taehyung hums and continues to move your hand in the correct motions so the eggs won’t burn. “Jade likes her eggs fluffy, and Khloe likes hers cheesy. If you keep them separate like this, you can save a lot of time.”

He allows you to do it on your own, but you aren’t sure if you’re doing what you’re supposed to.

“Am I doing it right?”

“Yup. Now you want to flip your bacon. They like it really crispy so it’s okay if it overcooks a little bit,” he informs, watching you turn the strip over. “Good job. They look almost ready. You can fix their eggs and I’ll take over this part, okay.”

You follow his instructions and place the fluffy eggs on Jade’s Minnie Mouse plate and the cheesy eggs on Khloe’s Scooby Doo themed plate, earning a small praise from Taehyung. You smile because you feel like you accomplished so much in the past few minutes. Yesterday you thought you’d missed your chance in being involved in the girls’ life.

“The plan was to bring you breakfast in bed, but I thought you’d enjoy this more.”

You turn to him after giving Khloe her meal. “Thank you. This means a lot. I should already know how to cook for them so I really appreciate you teaching me.”

“You don’t have to know how to cook or do any of the things everyone says you’re supposed to know how to do. But if you want to learn, I’m here to help you. We all are…the girls too.”

“That’s more than I deserve,” you whisper and he shakes his head.

“Last night you told me to forgive myself, I need you to do the same…because we were never upset with you. We love you, _______.” Taehyung suddenly snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a hug. “I think it’s time for us to forget about fixing our marriage; it was over before we started. But our friendship…I think that is what’s going to get us through this.”

You agree. Whenever the subject of your marriage is brought up, you’re both reminded of all the horrible memories that come with it. However, you still remember how close you were before, and how close you are now that you’re treating each other kindly out of love instead of obligation. It’s healthier, a safer environment for not only the girls, but for two people who have both been battling with demons of the past.

Last night was fun, but it wasn’t enough to consider falling back into the cycle. You’re glad you and Taehyung are on the same page because you need to be in order to raise your daughters.

“Yeah, I’d like that actually. We’re happier like this, and I don’t want to lose it all trying to rebuild a toxic situation. This is perfect…our perfect.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he sighs.

Jade and Khloe continue to eat their food while you and Taehyung chat. However, Khloe’s voice draws you both away from the conversation.

“Mom and dad are so cool,” she comments before taking a bite of her eggs.

Jade chimes in and makes you smile from ear to ear. “Mommy’s the coolest, though. Daddy says she’s a superhero.”

“Yeah, and her eggs taste better than daddy’s,” Khloe declares and your eyes grow wider.

You look at Taehyung and he dramatically rips off his Doc McStuffins apron before waltzing towards the stairs.

“Well, since my services are no longer needed, I’ll be off to take a shower. You ladies better be ready by ten; we need to drop your mom off at her spa appointment and then plan more secret stuff that she doesn’t know about yet.”

You all giggle as his heavy footsteps ascend the stairs, complaining about being replaced by someone who can’t even boil water without supervision. You give your girls a fist bump and get them to help you with the dishes.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, Khloe.”

“Dad told me to give you this because he said he was too nervous to give it to you himself.” She holds out your wedding rings in her little palm and your hand clutches your chest. “He says you don’t have to wear it, but he feels better knowing they’re with you.”

You take them from her with a smile, fighting back the urge to shed a tear. For now, you place them on your finger because nowhere else seems right. You’re also aware of how Taehyung still wears his. Maybe it brings him as much comfort as it brings you. Your marriage was the worst, but two beautiful children were created during that time. Because of them, you were able to see your true place in each other’s life.

It doesn’t really have a title, but you know wherever you are now feels great. You’re family, and you’ll always be. Doesn’t matter if it isn’t what the world deems as “right.” What matters is that everyone is happy and the love is strong.

“What are you going to wear for your date tonight, mom—”

“Jade, that’s a secret!” Khloe shouts at her little sister. You can only laugh because you already heard him asking Kaylin to babysit when you were at the park yesterday. You knew he was up to something.

“Sorry. Please don’t tell him I told you,” she pleads.

You tap your chin in pretend thought. “Hmm, I guess I could keep a secret for one small fee.”

“What is it? I’ll do it!”

You squat in front of her and gently tap her nose with your finger.

“Gimme some kisses,” you request and they both tackle you and shower you with affection. You lie on your back, not even thinking about moving or getting them off of you. These moments heal everything that’s ever hurt and you’d never take them for granted again.

As the three of you wallow and play, the figure standing at the top of the stairs goes unnoticed by you. Taehyung watches his family with a proud and grateful smile. The same walls that used to witness so much fighting and torment can now be cleansed by the sounds of laughter and unconditional love.

This is how it should have always been, and he’s thankfully you both were able to save it in time. He looks at the diamond ring adorning your hand and a bigger smile forms on his face.

You two will be fine, no matter the purpose for wearing them. Your bond is unbreakable, and whatever the universe has in store, you’ll both be ready to take it on.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of those who celebrate and sending love to those who have lost their mom or to those who have lost a child whether they were in the womb or in this world. I personally have experienced both and I know how tough today is from some of us.

With much love, Dee. I hope this brings some comfort to those who may need it.

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