↳Part 1/9 ofUnmatched, 2022 rewrite. Set several months after the events of Unrequited, you are now married and settled with the man you thought you’d never have. Yet when old secrets and bad habits resurface, things are not as entirely harmonious as they seem.
↳Female reader x Lee Know, female reader x Hyunjin
↳6.4k
!Strong language, established relationship, marriage au, love triangle au, thriller, romance, stripper-slash-escort Lee Know, husband Lee Know, heavy angst and tension, explicit sexual content, dominant Lee Know, oral sex (f. rec), storeroom sex, dirty talk, references to sex toys and aids, themes of casual sex, promiscuity, commitment issues and adult themes throughout !
A vow so sealed with a kiss had bound you to the man you loved for eternity, though it’s no stretch to suppose he claimed your soul long before the eyes of church and state ever deigned to recognise it.
Marriage was blissful. Marriage was harmonious. Marriage would change you both, they’d said, make you a better person through the responsibilities it comes with, the duties of a wife to her husband, of a husband to his wife.
Those people didn’t know you. They didn’t know Minho either.
For if they did, they’d have saved such pearls of wisdom for the next couple coming through.
You don’t think marriage has changed you. By all accounts, you’re the same old person you always were.
Your lips purse to the same pout they always do. Your hair is the same colour it always was. Even your general outlook on life remains naïvely optimistic, irrespective of the inevitable bad days you occasionally suffer through.
Rolling your car to a gradual stop and firmly switching the ignition, you reangle the rear-view mirror, taking a second to assess presentability before you get out. It’s by tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear that you’re momentarily blinded by a sharp glint; the silver wedding band on your ring finger, set with a single diamond that catches the dusky afternoon sunlight.
You admire it—the diamond demands that you must—spreading your fingers out, holding your hand under a dusted ray that beams through your car window. It sparkles, quietly reminding you that despite all the sameness, your life is vastly different now.
You suppose that if someone had informed you six months ago that you’d be married and relatively settled down by now, you’d have advised them in favour of industrial strength therapy and maybe a lobotomy or three.
Yet here you are; more than half a year into a marriage you never foresaw, with a man you can’t well live without.
Perhaps more miraculously than any of that, however, is the fact that anything has yet to go wrong.
↳Part 2/9 ofUnmatched, 2022 rewrite. See part 1 for story description.
↳Female reader x Lee Know, female reader x Hyunjin
↳5.6k
!Strong language, established relationship, marriage au, love triangle au, thriller, romance, stripper-slash-escort Lee Know, husband Lee Know, heavy angst and tension, explicit sexual content, office sex, make-up sex, dirty talk, scenes of conflict, alcohol consumption, stripping, emotional turmoil, themes of casual sex, promiscuity, commitment issues and adult themes throughout !
Chan’s announcement cloaks the staff room in a reverent silence.
Even as the thud of his booted footsteps fade down the corridor, the tension remains palpable. Indeed, every person in proximity feels it, yet none of them dare to break it.
You’re in utter panic.
Your nerves are working overtime, all proverbial hands are on deck trying to calm you, yet it’s futile. You’re trembling, freezing all of a sudden. Heart pounding, a prickling of icy sweat nips at the nape of your neck and small of your back.
Yet worse than all that, is that you dare not look at Minho. You’re terrified of what you might see.
Of course, he’s the first to collect himself. He steps towards you, hand outstretched in what might well be an act of comfort, yet you can’t allow yourself the weakness of his touch. Can’t allow yourself the addling toxin that comes with his excuses, his justifications, his voice of reason that will assuredly side with Chan, because why wouldn’t he?
“I, uh… I’m going to call you that cab, Lix, okay? J— Just sit tight for a while.”
Voice shaky, polite and professional demeanour so clearly forced it’s enough to inspire pity, but nobody addresses it. They simply nod, smile, don’t try to stop you or offer words of consolation as you leave the room without a glance at your husband.
You suppose it was bound to happen, when your pretence of togetherness crumbles, for it was fragile at best. Your breaths come too sparse, too quick. Your temples throb, your racing, panicked heart is too erratic as it runs away from you, wanting out of the confines of your chest.
Space. That’s what you need. A little alone time to simply process, rationalise, perhaps break down in isolation.
The door to your office in sight, you rush the last few steps with unwanted tears, flinging it open and finding solace with your back against the hard wood as you slam it shut, shoring up for the intrusion you’re sure is coming.
