#fic: rekindle my heart | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yundeob · 4 months ago

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the parent trap | KHJ

part 1 of the Night in Hollywood!series

☆ trope: exes to lovers!au, divorced!au

☆ pairing: producer!hongjoong x designer!reader, dad!joong x mom!reader

☆ warnings: nsfw (mdni), swearing, mentions of food, mentions of food poisoning, female desc. reader, drinking, suggestiveness, smut, slight!breeding kink, oral sex (f. receiving), overstim, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap!) nipple play, titty sucking, marking, praise, slightdom!joong, blond!joong bc that itself is too much for me, mentions of (early) pregnancy, you’re both in your early thirties and make an unbelievably stubborn couple in this!

☆ synopsis: AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

☆ word count: 18.1k

☆ playlist: soulful strut by young-holt unlimited, l-o-v-e by nat king cole, just the way you are by billy joel, slipping through my fingers by abba, this will be (an everlasting love) by natalie cole

☆ a/n: it’s finally here. I can’t believe I’m writing this and saying it’s finally here oh my goodness. first off, thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has supported me with the series so far (shoutout to @kitten4sannie , @byuntrash101 and especially @desirehorizon for being amazing!) everyone’s sweet comments have been greatly appreciated, and I just hope this silly little fic brings a smile to your everyday lives.

ty for making writing worth it as a writer. now cue the opening credits!

“ABSOLUTELY NOT” Hongjoong says.

“But dadd,” she whines, clutching the wrinkled pamphlet closer to her chest. Eunseo’s small hands are covered in purple doodles her sister drew using a glitter pen.

“Why not?” the girl complains, shrugging her shoulders.

He sighs, pushing his glasses up with one hand as he continues typing away at the important document the producing company sent him on his laptop. He tries his best to reason with the child.

“Because, baby…” pausing to think for a moment before responding. “It would be hard for your mom and I to find a time that fits into our schedules. I’ve got work, and she must be busy as well.”

Eunseo glares at her father’s excuse.

Okay, yeah, the man knows it’s somewhat of a lie, himself.

She continues to protest by shoving the advertising pamphlet in her dads face and blocking his view of the screen. Thankfully, Hongjoong is used to these sort of work distractions, expertly avoiding her by craning his neck sideways and continuing to type away.

“But dad, it’s an amazing cottage resort! They’ve got a lake where you can go swimming in, a forest hiking trail, a bonfire to roast marshmallows and even a diner less than fifteen minutes away! So if you end up burning the camp food like last time, we can just order and eat in! Isn’t that great?” She beams.

He stops typing for a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he gives his first born a look that makes her immediately break into a sweet smile, batting her lashes and flashing him a look of innocence.

“Please?” She begs, standing on the edge of her feet as she gazes up at him. “The last time we went was when Eunbyul and me were toddlers.”

And how on earth could any dad’s heart not melt at the sight of his daughter trying to convince him about one harmless vacation?

Hongjoong wheels his office chair back, turning so he could look her in the eyes properly and tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

“Listen honey, I’m sorry, I really wish I could, but…” he trails off, looking back at the open tabs and file documents displayed on his computer.

Turning his head around and upon seeing a frown form on his daughter's face, he quickly reassures her.

“Once you finish your final piano recital tomorrow and your mom picks your sister up to take her to her hockey game, how about we go fishing the weekend afterwards?” he suggests, brows raising. “That’ll mean I have just the two of you all to myself.”

Eunseo mumbles under her breath, quiet but insistent enough that he catches it.

“But we’re supposed to be a family of four.”

She sulks, thinking of how that would leave you, her mother, left out of their plans. The arms holding the pamphlet up, ultimately fall down in defeat.

He places a peck on her forehead, patting her on the back. “You know, if you can get your mom to say yes, then I’ll think about it” he chuckles, knowing the highly unlikely probability of the event.

Adjusting his glasses, the producer goes back to his work, peeking his daughter slugging away from the corner of his eye.

Eunseo slumps her shoulders in defeat as she walks out of her dads office, turning the corner to see her twin sister, Eunbyeol, pressing her ears near the door with her neck outstretched. Clearly she’s been caught in the middle of trying to overhear their conversation.

The twin younger by fifteen seconds quickly rushes over, waiting expectantly.

“So? What did dad say?”

Eunseo exhales, throwing the information pamphlet away on the wooden floors and slumping against the living room couch.

“He’s totally not buggin. Said he wants to take us fishing next weekend instead. Just us three.” she grumbles.

Eunbyeol scrunches her nose at the idea.

“But dad sucks at fishing.”

Her sister groans, kicking her small feet against the couch in frustration. “I know!” Eunbyeol starts to worry, coming to sit beside her.

“Then how on earth are we going to get mom and dad to get back with each other again? They haven’t been in the same room since we were like, five!”

Her twin sister scoffs, “First, we gotta get them to have a proper conversation with each other. They barely even talk when they drop us off at each other's houses.”

Nobody truly knows why you and Hongjoong had divorced so suddenly when the girls were young. Not even themselves.

All they were used to were cold stares and one word replies shared amongst their parents, refusing to find harmony in their co-parenting.

Frankly, your girls have had enough of the performance you were both trying to maintain, looking past your expressions to realize you and your husband still held feelings for the other. It was only a matter of time and place in order to set you two up together, thus, the idea of an intimate, family getaway came into their minds.

After a few moments of letting her words hang in the air, Eunbyeol’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.

“That’s it!”

The older twin looks up quizzically, watching her sister jump off the couch and gaze at her excitedly.

“We’ll just have to force them to meet each other! We can always guilt trip them for dropping us off at their houses and making us play alone!”

Eunseo rolls her eyes at the idea. “Right, and how are we going to do that dummy? The only reason they’d do that, was if it was an emergency.”

Whoever said twin telepathy wasn’t a thing was a liar, because the second Eunseo catches onto what her sister is saying, the twins share a look of pure mischievousness, the gears in their brains working together as one.

With hushed whispers and quiet giggles, the twins immediately begin conducting their plan in secrecy near the corner of the living room, backs turned and in the middle of discussion when Hongjoong walks out of his office with an empty coffee mug.

“What are you guys doing over there?”

“Leave us alone! Family man traitor!” Eunbyeol shouts, holding a slightly hostile grudge to her father before turning back to whisper to her twin.

Hongjoong shakes his head, sighing as he heads into the kitchen.

“Then it’s perfect! I’ll stay here with dad once my piano recital is over, and then when Mom picks you up for your hockey game tomorrow, we’ll try convincing them together!”

Eunbyeol nods her head in agreement, eyes lighting up with excitement as she whispers in a hushed tone.

“And once both events end, we’ll pretend to be so sick that they have to take us to the nearby hospital.”

The other twin smirks. ”Where we’ll end up guilt tripping them into taking us to the cottage.”

They double high five in victory at their flawless plan, already waiting for tomorrow to come as soon as possible.

“A summer cottage?” you repeated, brows raising at the idea as you made a left turn onto your street.

Eunbyeol nods eagerly from the back seat after getting picked up, having ranted on and on about the ad in the pamphlet since the moment you saw her.

“It's an amazing establishment mom,” She boasts, making you laugh at her words while parking the car and unbuckling your seatbelt.

“They have everything you could possibly think of!”

“Oh, really?” You say skeptically, opening the door for her.

Eunbyeol is lost in the middle of passionately describing all the relaxing activities you could do by yourself, or rather per se, with a special partner together.

“There’s couples hiking retreats, couples canoeing, couples yoga… did I mention couples hiking retreats?” She confuses, retracing her words.

You roll your eyes and smile, keys jangling as you walk through the entrance of your apartment flat while balancing the bags and items in your hands.

Being a wedding dress designer and yet picking up your daughter from your ex-husband's house could’ve been ironic to some people. But after having split with Hongjoong since the girls were so young, you came to grow fond of having some independence as a divorcee, channeling your main focus into setting up your own bridal shop downtown.

It was through that hard work and focus that you did it all by yourself with no additional help.

You’d be lying if you said you haven't opened a bottle of red wine some nights due to loneliness as a divorced single mother, but at least that was what you had your daughters for.

You made sure to work just as hard as you did enjoy playing and spending time with them. After all, they were the light of your life and purpose for living.

Balancing the pizza you picked up on the way home, you set it down on the kitchen island, telling Eunbyeol to go wash her hands in the sink. The girl doesn’t stop ranting.

“There’s usually only two rooms in the cottage, so you’ll have to sleep together with dad, but I guess you won't mind, would you? After all, you were once married” She rolls her eyes, reaching for the soap.

You shake your head with a sigh. ”What is up with you and getting me and your father together in the same room?” you muttered as you took out the plates and utensils.

Eunbyeol eventually walks back to you, wiping her hands on her baggy jeans before sitting on the kitchen stool.

“It’s not that I’m obsessed, Mom. Actually, Eunseo and I are just dying to get away this summer now that school is over.”

Turning around from plating the pizza and salad, you chastise your daughter, telling her to sit with her bum flat on the stool so she doesn’t fall. She immediately listens, carrying on with her persuasion.

“We just want you and dad to get the chance to relax as well, that’s all!” her mouth full from a bite of hot, greasy pizza.

You smile, wiping your washed hands on the kitchen towel and coming over to wrap your arms around her affectionately.

“Spending time with you and Eunseo every week is how I relax,” you assured her, smothering your baby with kisses on her cheek.

Byeol lets out a squeal of annoyance, taking another bite of her pizza. “You’re squishing me!” She tries hiding her smile, failing when you lean in closer.

You pull back in laughter, ruffling her hair as you walk away while reminding her.

“Oh! Don’t forget you’ve got your hockey game tonight!”

Byeol chews faster, munching on the soft crust and counting down the hours on the kitchen clock.

She smiles to herself.

“Don’t worry, I know!”

“What do you mean you need to go to the hospital?” Hongjoong asks in a worried voice, standing against the women’s washroom stall. He holds Eunseo’s congratulatory flower bouquet for first place in hand, feeling the stares of multiple women passing by, clearly judging him for being in the ladies room with them.

“Honey, is everything all right?” He asks worriedly. A string of groans come from behind the door.

“You need to leave!” one old lady thrusts her walking cane at the father, lips pursed in dissatisfaction.

Eunseo did such a phenomenal job tonight for her piano recital, that Hongjoong was shocked to see his daughter clutch her stomach first thing after running down the steps of the stage, dashing to the washrooms.

He whips his head back. “My daughter’s having a bit of a situation in here, okay miss? Have a bit of understanding!” He barks frustratedly out loud to the onlookers before speaking softly back to the stall door.

“Eunseo, baby, talk to me, is everything alright in there? Are you sure you need to go to the hospital? Is it that bad?”

The girl continues her acting performance, letting out fake groans while typing furiously on her cellphone.

“Oh the pain! I think I might have food poisoning, dad!”

Seolie: How far along are u

Byeolie: Mom’s outside, banging to come in.

Seolie: same, I told dad I needed to go to the hospital.

Eunseo lets out another groan of pain, causing Hongjoong to worry even more.

“That’s it, Eunseo. Let me in and help you” he decides, searching his bag for a painkiller or at least some sort of medication for relief.

The girl frantically checks her phone, eyes lighting up at the new message.

Byeolie: Mom’s getting the car to take me to the hospital. I’ve got her convinced to call dad soon.

Eunseo types as fast as her small fingers can move, even faster than when she performed her piano solo from before.

Seolie: Then what do I do????

Hongjoong gets slightly suspicious at the lack of sound coming from the stall, calling to his daughter again.

“Eunseo? Everything alright?”

At the next notification, the girl makes up her mind, getting the signal from her sister.

Byeolie: play dead. Mom calling soon. See ya there.

The actress gets into character, gaining her composure before unlocking the washroom stall and holding her stomach as she stumbles into her dad’s surprised arms.

“Eunseo!”

She wails, falling limp. “Oh, dad! Please! Take me to the hospital, it hurts too much!”

It’s truly a mystery which parent she got her acting skills from.

But she doesn’t have to tell him twice at that point. The man is already piggy backing his fainted daughter and sprinting out of the ladies washroom, reassuring her with soothing comments as he makes a beeline for the parking lot.

“Stay with me baby!” He huffs, unbeknownst to Eunseo who peeks one eye open.

Only after he straps his daughter in the backseat and is turning on the engine does he receive a sudden phone call from you, pressing the speaker for the whole car to hear your panicked voice. You break the news to him first.

“Eunbyeol’s severely sick. She fainted right after her hockey game.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened. “What?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “She was holding her stomach saying she ate something wrong. Is Eunseo okay?”

Hongjoong puts the stick into drive, backing out of the parking lot and replying in a hurry.

“She’s hit with the same thing right now. I’ll meet you at the Hospital in ten” he grunts, sweat forming on his brow as he speeds through traffic, not caring if he gets a ticket.

Had he looked in his rear view mirror, he would have seen Eunseo sagging near the car door, clutching her stomach with a small grin on her face.

You never liked the hospital.

The sounds of babies crying and hospital beds wheeling become the background noise, shifting nervously in your seat that was in the emergency pediatrics unit waiting area.

Hongjoong has his eyebrows furrowed, hunched over one seat beside you as he hangs his head in his hands, knees bouncing up and down. A middle aged nurse nasally calls on the next family waiting from the front desk, boredom laced in her voice.

You sigh, uncrossing your legs and choosing to bite at the fingernail on your right hand once realizing you’ve already done the same to all the ones on your left.

“It’s all my fault.” Hongjoong confesses, suddenly sitting still.

You glance to your left, watching as he sits up slowly.

“Last thing they ate together would’ve been at my house. I probably made them sick with something I fed them,” he dejects, hanging his head down in shame.

“It’s all my fault, god I’m so stupid!” He beats himself up.

You have half the mind to snap at your ex-husband, anger already filling up inside you earlier when you heard Eunbyeol suggest it was something she ate at her dad’s house. You really did want to yell at him for being so bad of a chef that he sent his own daughters to the emergency pediatrics unit, undeniably relieved that Seonghwa was working tonight’s shift.

But those cruel words sitting on the tip of your tongue are thrown away when you glance down to see your ex-husband missing a shoe on one of his feet.

Hongjoong rushed over here so fast with Eunseo that he left his shoe behind like some sort of fairytale, Cinderella. He hasn’t even realized he wasn’t wearing one right now.

You exhaled, knowing that if there's one thing you’ve learned while parenting, it was that to have patience and understanding was a virtue. Even for your ex-husband.

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed, staring at your hands folded in your lap.

It feels awkward when Hongjoong stops tugging at his blond locks to look at you in surprise, continuing to speak as you place a gentle hand on his thigh.

“That could’ve happened to anyone. We don’t know yet if it was because of the food. Let’s just pray and wait and see” your voice being a sign of reliability to him.

The man is a little shocked at your supportive nature to tell you truthfully. He delivers all the things he needs to say through his grateful gaze alone, reciprocating a small smile.

“Didn’t think I’d see you guys tonight.” Seonghwa chuckles, walking in before Hongjoong has the chance to reply. He comes from the patient's room wearing his dashing, white doctor's coat. “Together, at that” he mumbles under his breath before looking up and flashing you a polite smile while giving his worried friend a soft pat on the back.

Hongjoong holds his breath when he asks: “How are they?”

“Better,” he tells him, flipping through some papers on his clipboard. “But it was a big shock to their bodies. They need some rest at the moment.”

The pediatrician tries not to show his smile, standing in front of you and Hongjoong while hiding his expression behind his clipboard as per his niece’s request.

To be fair, if someone had told Seonghwa earlier that evening that he would receive a fifteen minute pep talk from his best friend's twin daughters that day in the emergency unit, he would’ve laughed in their faces.

Alas, life was always filled with surprises. Here’s what went down thirty minutes earlier in the hospital room:

“We’re trying to get them back together,” Eunseo announced confidently, sitting next to her sister on the hospital bed.

Eunbyeol nodded, eyeing the dumbfounded medical professional standing in front of them with his clipboard tucked under his arm, hands in his pockets.

“So.. you guys don’t need an IV drip?”

“It’s this whole entire thing, Uncle Hwa, we’ll explain to you later.”

It took a minute before Seonghwa reclaimed his composure as an adult, chastising the twins for pulling a false alarm over something like this. He made sure to make them promise him they wouldn’t do something stupid like this again. But after that, of course Seonghwa is immediately pairing to help them with their plan on getting his best friend back together with his ex-wife. The man is just tired of watching Hongjoong beat himself up half the time about missing you.

“So you essentially want me to lie about the fact that you guys don’t have food poisoning, and were just faking this whole thing so your mom and dad would have a reason to see each other.”

The twins nod, one of them pointing out. “And make sure to tell them we’re fine of course. Maybe throw in we’re like, really sick, but that we’ll live so it’s best if we get rest.”

“At like a cottage or something” the other chimes in, wiggling her eyebrows at the hint.

The doctor sighs, scratching his neck sheepishly.

When Seonghwa leads you and Hongjoong into the hospital room, both of you feel awful seeing your babies laying in their beds, dressed in the children’s gowns.

Eunbyeol peeks open her eyes first, voice hoarse (she practiced).

“Mom? Dad? Is that you?” she groans, pretending to clutch her stomach in pain.

Both you and Hongjoong rush to each child, grasping their hands and stroking their heads softly with sympathy.

“Hey baby, I’m here” you coo.

“I’m so, so sorry girls, it was probably all my fault. I should’ve never cooked for you guys earlier today.” their dad cries out painfully, looking down in shame.

You come to stand beside him, reassuring them both. “But what’s important is that you guys get better now. We want to make sure you get the rest you need” you say, making eye contact with your ex-husband.

Seonghwa clears his throat, crossing his arms as he flashes a wink to the girls behind your backs.

“They seemed to have been mentally exhausted as well,” He asks on purpose, watching as you and Hongjoong share a look with each other. “Have they been receiving proper familial support at home?”

“I can’t even remember the last time I saw my parents in the same room together.” Eunseo weakly admits, showing a faint smile.

As parents, you and Joong feel the most amount of guilt anyone could ever feel. You realize how exhausting and stressful the pickups and drop offs to each other's houses could’ve been, especially when you two were so busy with your respective jobs to spend time with your daughters now that it was summer break for them.

Hongjoong smiles, holding both their hands and making a promise to them.

“Make sure to rest you two. Tell me, is there anything you guys need right now? Anything you guys want I'll make sure to get it for you.”

”Do you guys have crunchy ice?” Eunbyeol blurts out loud, breaking her weak facade.

Eunseo almost wants to shoot a glare at her sister but she realizes both of you are still looking at them.

“I can get you some ice!” Seonghwa quickly assures you and his nieces, mouthing to them good luck for support as he shuts the door behind him.

You sigh, coming over to stroke Eunseo’s hair and caress Eunbyeol’s hand.

“Well? Is there anything else you guys need from us?” Hongjoong states, eyes soft in sympathy. You nod, waiting to hear their response.

“Let us know girls, anything at all.”

Eunbyeol and Eunseo finally take their chance, sharing a hesitant look before speaking at the same time.

“We want to go to the cottage”

“Together,” Eunseo says.

“As a family.” Eunbyeol adds in.

You and Hongjoong share a silent look.

Later into the night, the twins are finally discharged from the hospital, deciding that they would stay at Hongjoong’s mothers apartment which was closest nearby, considering they were both tired and immediately needed a place to rest.

The car ride home is awkwardly silent, even as the kids are (what you think) to be fast asleep, hockey gear and a bouquet of flowers riding with them in the backseat.

It was at their request for you to drive them to their grandmother's house, wanting both their parents with them till the ride home. Hongjoong settled on driving your car and dropping all of you off, planning to take a taxi back home and pick up his own car in the morning. Despite your protest on how inconvenient that was, he insisted as he didn’t want to disappoint the twins.

But suddenly the man begins to regret his offer, currently driving in complete silence on the highway, eyes facing forward and shoulders tense. Quiet FM nightly jazz plays from the radio.

You’re sitting passenger seat up front with him in what feels like forever, looking solely at the reflections in the window, the street lamp lights scattering across your face as you travel through the nighttime traffic. It’s awkward being together like this.

You hear him clear his voice, speaking softly so he doesn’t wake up the girls.

“So, are we really considering that cottage retreat?” he glances back at you.

You sit up, straightening your back and exhaling as you secretly wanted to have avoided that topic of discussion.

“We can’t Hongjoong,” you reasoned, shaking your head. “I couldn’t possibly take a whole vacation from the dress shop. Not unless I had someone take care of it for me, which my staff probably aren’t ready to do.” you explained, voice tense.

Hongjoong nodded, understanding your point of view. “I realize that. I’ve got a few projects I have to record and demo with Eden.” he tells you, an arm placed on the wheel with his sleeve rolled up. His veins become perfectly outlined as he passionately tells you about his producing job.

He’s so hot like that.

Jesus what were you thinking? Cursing your mind as you clear your voice and try to change the topic.

“How’s everything been going then?” you say stiffly. He nods, still awkward with sharing conversation with you.

“Um, it's going good. You?” he asks.

“Fine.” you swallow.

Silence prevails. He’s first to speak again, building the courage to say the next thing in his mind.

“I’m willing to put things on hold if I need to.” He confesses.

Hongjoong continues to drive normally after having said that. Now it becomes your turn to stare at him now, watching how he glances at the side mirror, switching lanes swiftly like the pro-driver he was.

“What do you mean?”

“Honestly, I think it would be good for the girls,” he admits, calling you by your name. Even hearing him call you your name feels weird. It feels foreign, like it almost wasn’t yours.

“Hongjoong-” you warn, shaking your head at the warry possibility.

“Just hear me out, alright?” He states firmly, making you quiet.

He glances back into the rear view mirror, watching your girls peacefully asleep with their heads leaning against each other.

“It’s been almost seven years. Seven years since they’ve last seen their parents speak to each other without breaking into a fight. Tonight was the first time they saw us together without having to plan a drop off and pick up in god knows how long.”

Hongjoong licks his lips, gripping the wheel as he emphasizes. “Seven years since they’ve gotten a goodnight hug and kiss from us at the same time in one place.”

You scoff, turning to face him properly this time. “I don’t know why you’re acting as though we can make this request of theirs come true Hongjoong. This is a big deal-”

“It is a big deal!” he exclaims, trying to get his point across. “I can see how badly our daughters want us to both be in their lives more, to acknowledge the fact that the other still exists after splitting apart.”

He sighs. “Us, not acknowledging each other’s existence at all is worse than if we had to see each other regularly.”

You bite your lip, getting angry. “So what Hongjoong? You’re saying you want to suddenly play family with them at the cottage?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Do you really think we can pretend to be normal parents to them without fighting like we are now? There’s a reason why our current schedules work. Don’t make me seem like the bad guy for not wanting to take them.” You glared, pointing a finger at him. His jaw locks.

“You fully knew the lifestyle changes we would need to make as a couple when you signed those legal papers—”

“Well then did you also predict everything that happened after you brought me those papers?” He spits like venom, gaze hard as he clenches the wheel.

You blink your eyes at his words, pressing your knees together at his sudden attack.

You don’t remember clearly if you even meant what you said at the time when you threw those papers at him seven years ago. But all you still know is that Hongjoong was just as stubborn as you were, making up his mind to sign them in the end regardless.

Looking in the rear view mirror, you muttered to him quietly.

“Don’t raise your voice. The kids are sleeping.”

Their dad scoffs, muttering a sure, under his breath as he switches lanes.

The kids were in fact, not sleeping, and very much awake. Eyes closed but ears wide, as they were listening in to the first real discussion their parents were having in so long. Or perhaps it was an argument?

At the right turn into his mother’s apartment’s underground parking lot, Hongjoong shuts off the engine, getting out of the car without another word and shutting the door in your face.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, hear the back door open.

You watch in the corner of your vision as his demeanor immediately changes, softly caressing Eunseo and Eunbyeol’s hair.

“Hey girls, we’re here now. You gotta wake up.” He coos.

They yawn theatrically, pretending to stretch their arms.

“So soon?” Eunbyeol mumbles.

A few feet ahead, you see your mother in law walking out from the elevators, a knit cardigan wrapped around her small frame. You smiled, getting out of the car and greeting her first.

“We’ll leave Eunbyeol’s hockey gear with you for the night if that’s alright Mom-”

Hongjoong’s words are cut off as the woman who birthed him walks straight past him, ignoring him and immediately taking you in her warm embrace, eyes forming crescent moons.

“How are you my dear?” she asks, causing you to smile and hug your mother in law affectionately. “It’s been so long, I’ve missed you so much!”

Despite the break up between you and Hongjoong, you were thankful for one thing, and that was the fact that your relationship with Hongjoong’s family stayed strong, especially with Mrs. Kim.

“I’ve missed you too” you tell her genuinely. “I’ve been good, I’m just sorry for dropping them off so suddenly at your place,” You say, feeling apologetic for waking her up late into the night.

“We had a bit of a situation,” you explain, watching as Hongjoong collects their things.

She shakes her head, reassuring you. “Nonsense! Why would you be sorry for that.” she grins, turning her head at the car. “And where are my girls, may I ask?”

At the sound of her voice, Eunbyeol and Eunseo dash out from the back seat and into their grandmother's welcoming arms, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks.

Hongjoong is the only person that stands all alone, awkwardly holding the bouquet of flowers with heavy hockey gear and a duffle bag perched on his shoulder.

“Oh, how I’ve missed my little squirrels!” she exclaims using their signature pet name and happily reuniting with her grandchildren.

She turns her head, face falling at the sight of her son and lips pursing into a frown.

“And where on earth have you been? Not giving me a call!” she snaps, slapping her son on his back. Eunbyeol laughs out loud while Eunseo tries to keep her giggles in.

You hear your ex husband protest to her while you close the back seat door.

“OW! I’ve been busy alright?” he mumbles, massaging his sore arm.

Your mother in law takes both the twins hand’s on each side, nodding her head to you.

“Leave all the kid’s stuff to Hongjoong, he’ll take care of it darling” she smiles sweetly, sending a glare to her son to take a hint and be more of a gentleman to you. She walks away with her smiling granddaughters, exchanging light-hearted giggles and excitement. “Bye, mom!” The twins wave back.

Hongjoong cranes his head up, sighing at the ceiling before taking Eunseo’s piano bag that you were holding in your hand in one swift motion, walking reluctantly behind the three.

“Stay here. I’ll drop them off.” he briskly walks away, leaving you stunned.

Hongjoongs words from before can’t help but replay inside your head as you wait for him to come back down.

Before you guessed it, it was already the ride back home, and the car was painfully silent once again. In reality, you were each thinking deeply to yourselves about the possibility of the cottage retreat. Could you really be a mom and dad together as a couple to your kids?

“Are you giving your plants enough water?” He brings you out of thought, the car slowing down as he turns onto your street.

You look up, giving him a confused look.

Hongjoong nods in direction, following his eyes to look at the measly, dying flower pot perched on the steps of your flat’s entrance as the car stopped to a halt. “You know, it’s really hard for plants to die when they’re outside.” He says in amazement at your shit gardening.

You scowl at him, asking him when he became such a plant expert all of a sudden.

He continues to poke fun at you, smirking when he undoes his seat belt. Hongjoong suddenly leans over to help you unbuckle your own, face dangerously close to yours as he lowers his voice.

“Unless their owner just really sucks at taking care of them.”

His eyes gaze into yours for a split second, feeling your face heat up from the proximity. You let out a tiny gasp for air when he leans back in his own seat.

“Fuck off” you replied harshly.

“You should give them some more care,” he suggests, ignoring your swearing.

You don’t reply to his stupid comment, refusing to look at him as you get out of the car.

“I can go in by myself” you press, adjusting the strap of your purse on your shoulder. You didn’t think it was necessary to draw out your time with this man any further.

Hongjoong straightens his dress shirt as he moves to your side of the car, shoving his own car keys in his trousers as he locks your doors and hands over the keys. You take them hesitantly, watching as he rests against the car door, strong arms crossing against his chest.

“Think about it at least.” he mutters to you.

You look at him, eyes shutting softly when you realize he was still talking about the cottage getaway. Sighing his name is exasperation, you run a hand through your hair.

“Hongjoong-”

“Would it kill you to spend a week with me and our daughters?” He scoffs as he asks you straight up, looking at you in a way that makes you hesitate to say your next words. You observed one hand come to shuffle with the silver lighter in his trouser pockets.

You stayed silent for a moment, genuinely thinking back to your daughters and what this meant to them if you went. What this would mean for you two as well.

Finally, you look up to him, returning his gaze.

“I need time.”

He nods, face serious. “I understand.”

“Let me think about it.” You mumbled.

And with that you turn around, walking up the steps to your front door. At the sight of your flowerpot, you quickly remember his comment and snatch it in your hands, slamming the door shut to Hongjoong as he finally lets a soft grin break out on his face. Letting his back come up from leaning against the door, Hongjoong nods his head, satisfied enough at that answer, as he walks silently down the road while opening his Uber app.

At least you’d give it some thought.

Okay, maybe now you’ve given it too much thought.

Sipping your fifth glass of wine of the night, you’re sitting, back hunched over with your knees tucked into your chest on the breakfast table chair, zoning out as your best friend Sophie continues barking at you and your inconsistent commitment.

“I don’t even understand why you’re considering going! Does the man realize what it takes to leave your own shop for a full week?” she fumes, adjusting her royal jelly sheet mask while cursing at your ex-husband for pressuring you into going to the family retreat.

“Not everyone can just pack their bags and go swimming at the cottage, Jesus Christ” she rolls her eyes.

“He didn’t pressure me,” you told her pouting. “He wants to do it for the kids” you mumbled looking down as you defended him.

You invited your best friend Sophie over to your apartment that evening for your weekly slumber party, a time you each looked forward to dedicating a bottle of wine and chardonnay over some gossip, spilling all the uneventful drama in your lives.

Perhaps you revealed too much drama to your best friend tonight.

“I don’t think I would mind going, to be honest” you hiccup, words slurring. “I haven’t had a vacation in so long, Sophie, and the girls really want to go! I would feel bad for leaving them with nothing to do this summer.” confessing through the alcohol.

Cheeks flushed, you sigh as you play with your silk robe mindlessly while Sophie shakes her head at you, one hand coming up to snap at you and bring you back to reality.

“Hello? Earth to Ms. Divorcee?” She sighs, rolling her eyes in frustration. “You said you wanted to set boundaries with him! To cut the line straight and keep your distance so you could get over your feelings for him! Show him who’s boss!”

“He said he’s willing to put his music projects on hold for us,” you muttered quietly, the thought making your heart weak as you smiled at the memory of Hongjoong teasing you about your flower pot. Your chest blossomed with warmth now.

Sophie sighs, shaking her head as she thinks just how differently you were feeling four wine glasses ago.

“Listen, honey, I’m just warning you in advance” she sips the golden liquid in her glass before placing it on the table.

“Take it from a girl who’s had three divorces. I mean look at me! I’m still somewhat young, I’ve got no kids, no responsibilities, filthily rich, and not once have I had to pay for my own divorce settlement fees!”

You nod mindlessly, eyes blinking softly under the bright kitchen lights.

“What you need is a provider, sweetheart,” she crooned, caressing your head.

“A guy who won’t leave you stressed and unimpressed like Hongjoong does.”

You continue mindlessly nodding your head at her words, ears perking up when you hear small footsteps come down the stairs.

“Hi mom, Hi aunt Sophie.” Eunbyeol greets, eyes glued to her iPad that Eunseo trails after from behind, whining how it was now her turn to play Super Mario.

“Hi girls,” Sophie replies like the cool, hot aunt she is, eyes shut as she’s concentrating on giving herself a collarbone massage right now.

“Hey sweetheart,” you mumbled, smiling at your daughters standing near the fridge getting a glass of water.

“Say, did your dad tell you guys anything about the cottage?” You blurt out loud, avoiding the look that Sophie gives you. Eunbyeol looks up from the glowing screen, ears perking in interest. “No, not much, why?”

Eunseo snatches the iPad from her twin, coming over to you. “Did Dad say we’re going?” She asks enthusiastically, eyes widening. Sophie is quick to assure them.

“Now of course not girls, your mother here was just-”

“Oh fuck it, why not?” you say confidentially, shining a bright smile. “Let’s go to the cottage!” You exclaimed in drunk excitement, all three girls staring at you with their jaws hanging at your sudden profanity as well as your final decision.

Oh, how dangerous the effects of a bottle of wine were.

Eunseo and Eunbyeol immediately embrace each other in a passionate hug, squealing in excitement that their plan actually worked. You and Hongjoong were now both convinced. “Oh my gosh, we’re going to go as a family!” They cried in happiness. You giggled at their joy, reciprocating their enthusiasm.

Sophie leans back in her seat defeated, shaking her head with pursed lips as she picks up the whole Chardonnay bottle and sips it.

“Oh whatever. . . This isn’t my problem anyways.”

When Hongjoong drops by the next morning to pick up Eunbyeol and Eunseo from your house for the weekend, he can’t lie but be a little heartbroken at the way his daughters ignore his kiss to them first thing. They instead, immediately shove the cottage advertising pamphlet in his face with victorious grins.

“See! We told you mom would say yes!”

“Say yes to what?” He pouts, avoiding the paper and obsessively trying to peck a kiss to each of his daughter's cheeks. The idea of going to the cottage almost slipped the busy man’s mind after almost a week of no news from you.

“What’s so important that you guys don’t even say hi to me anymore?” he sulks.

Eunseo giggles, fighting back her laughter when her dad tries to tickle her with his kisses.

“We’re going to the cottage!”

Hongjoong stills himself, leaning back to make sure he heard her correctly.

“We’re what?”

Eunbyeol, taking after her mother, has a cheeky expression on her face as she places her hands on her hips and sasses her father.

“Pack your bags and swimming shorts, daddy, we’re going on a family vacation!”

In perfect timing, you manage to stumble out your front door, coffee mug in hand and mid-yawn when you realize Hongjoong is already staring at you in shock.

“What?” you snap, still grumpy from your slight hangover. “You’ve never seen a woman wake up before?” You replied, asking your kids if they packed all their stuff.

The twins watch as their dad stands up from his crouched position.

“You’re going to go to the cottage?”

At Hongjoongs words you freeze, everything coming back to you all at once. The wine, the twins, the promises, it hits you like a moving truck.

“Well…”

“No take backs mom! You said it yourself last night that you were excited to go to the cottage!” One of the twins pointed out.

Hongjoong doesn’t take his eyes off of you.

“I-I did say that, didn’t I?” You chuckled sheepishly, toes curling at the rookie mistake you made in parenting 101: saying yes when you should’ve said no.

Your ex-husband quickly tells the kids to put their things in the trunk, promising he’ll be right with them after talking to you. As Hongjoong dashes up the stairs in his white polo golf shirt, you feel slightly exposed being in only your silk slip dress and robe.

“I didn’t realize you’d be here so early” you mumbled, looking down at your toes.

He ignores you. “So I’m guessing we’re going then?” He smirks, looking at you with an expression of undeniable cockiness and peaked interest.

You shrug nonchalantly. “Let’s surround the focus of this trip towards the kids” you remind him, straightening your back.

Hongjoong nods, agreeing with you wholeheartedly. “Of course, that was my intention from the beginning,” he smiles.

You swallow the lump in your throat, unnoticing his stare drop at your breasts perking up from the cool morning air. You jump in surprise as you hear the honking of the car.

“Come on, love birds! We gotta go back to dad’s to get our swimming stuff!” Eunbyeol cackles, leaning from the backseat into the driver's seat window. Eunseo already begins journaling in her hello kitty note book, an organized list of what she’ll need to bring to the cottage.

Hongjoong looks back at his daughters, before looking back at you with a smile.

“Let’s keep in touch about details, alright?”

You nod silently, gripping your mug. At the sound of your nextdoor neighbor coming out, Hongjoong contemplates for a moment before quickly leaning forward, shielding you from their view with his backside. Clearing his throat, Hongjoong nods his head to the inside of your house, leaning forward to whisper to you.

“Think, um, you should get inside, it’s getting cold,” he mutters, his dimples faintly showing. You glare up at him, “I’m going to say goodbye to my own daughters”. Still clueless to what he was referring to. He grins, shrugging his shoulders before looking at you.

“If you insist. Just thought you wouldn’t want your neighbor to see what I can see, would you?”

You gasp at his words, looking down at your chest to see what he means before wrapping your robe around you. You quickly waved goodbye to your girls before you shut the door in Hongjoong’s smug face.

It’s now become the second time you’ve done that.

Thankfully, the next time you see Hongjoong you’re wearing a much more appropriate outfit. In a white cotton blouse and casual jean shorts, your effortlessly chic vacation outfit was the only highlight today, considering the day you had been internally dreading for so long was finally here.

You tried to take deep breaths while scurrying all over your house and finishing some last minute packing. Reassuring yourself that a family getaway couldn’t kill you.

Right?

Reservations at the cottage were made over the phone last week, booking a house with the perfect lake side view, access to the forest trail and close proximity to the offered activities. It would only be a seven day stay, both in your respective rooms, (you clearly emphasized you and Hongjoong had to have separate ones) while the twins would lodge together. You had no intention of interacting with your husband alone together on this trip, apart from the quote on quote, ‘family bonding times’ you promised your daughters. And yet why were you here sweating nervously like a sinner in church?

“What a hot lady!” Eunbyeol wolf-whistles at your outfit when she walks through your bedroom doors. You jump at the sudden entrance, realizing Hongjoong was already here to pick you up with the girls.

A pair of black designer sunglasses slightly too big for her sat perched on her nose. Eunbyeol smiles before jumping onto your bed of clothes. You already know Hongjoong must’ve spoiled her and her sister with those, buying them a pair each.

“C’mon Byeol, off the bed” you quipped, packing your toothbrush as she reluctantly slugged off the covers.

Your suspicions of Hongjoong buying them designer items are correct when Eunseo walks in, classily perching her matching white ones on her head before chastising her sister's tasteless compliment.

“Elegant. She’s Elegant, Byeol. You don’t just go around wolf-whistling at people.” she rolls her eyes.

“You look very pretty by the way, mom”

You smiled, nevertheless pleased at both their compliments and thanking them before going back to doing a last minute check of your things.

Sun cream, clothes, makeup bag, swimsuit…

At the thought of your swimsuit you immediately blush, thinking back to how Sophie forced you to borrow her yellow bikini that left very little to the imagination. Despite your protests that you wouldn’t be needing it, she insisted.

Hongjoong is last to walk through your front doors, swinging his car keys around his index finger and calling to his three girls from the downstairs foyer of your apartment. The man is clearly excited for the trip, he can’t lie.

“Come on ladies, we’re gonna miss the chance to swim in that lake if we don't leave soon!”

Hongjoong is your typical dad, except for the fact that he does not mess with dad!fashion. The producer is dressed classily from top to bottom in a loose-fitting designer button up with a pair of reformed denim pants, his pearl earrings and gold piercings complementing his outfit perfectly.

Kim Hongjoong didn't play when it came to fashion. Even as a father.

“Coming!” You exclaimed, ushering your kids out of your bedroom and making your way down the stairs with your suitcase. Seeing that it would only be a week at the cottage, you tried to pack light, though you may have to reconsider that thought with the way you struggled to lift the case properly.

“Need some help?”

A strong hand comes to help you, immediately inhaling the scent of Hongjoong’s cologne as he brushes his knuckles near yours. “Here, I’ve got it” he assures, making you step back and admire your undeniably fine husband.

Ex-husband. You meant Ex-husband. Scratch out the fine as well.

You watch from behind as he struts out the foyer, smiling and joking playfully with his twin daughters, carrying your luggage out the door with them.

What was this trip doing to you?

Once you’re on route to the cottage resort and the GPS is set, the car is blissfully quiet, each and every one of you surprisingly at peace. Jittery excitement still lays deep in your daughters' minds as you overhear them talk about what they want to do first once they arrive.

Hongjoong’s 2000s soft rock and ballad playlist is playing quietly throughout the speakers right now, relishing in the music as luscious, green trees flash by you from the passenger window.

While Byeol and Eunseo distract each other on their own, Hongjoong turns to talk to you.

“I’m not going to lie, it’s been forever since I’ve been on a road trip” he smiles.

You copy him, feeling good in the moment. “Same, I don’t remember the last time I went to one.” you confessed, thinking only of all the times you had in the past when you were a child and as a teenager.

Even back to when you were a young college student, wide eyed and so innocent to the chaos of your first college retreat with Hongjoong. That was the summer you two began dating, and boy were you fools in love. You cautiously look to your husband driving, bringing up past memories.

“Do you remember that one college retreat we went on during second year?”

The corners of Hongjoong’s lips are already grinning upwards, smiling as he reciprocates your expression.

“Right, like I could forget that summer” he replies sarcastically, gripping the steering wheel.

It’s an easy memory to digest. A time when you were both so young, filled with nothing but dreams and passionate love for one another. Love so deep, that you remember the nights you’d spend locked up with Hongjoong under the sweaty bed sheets inside your cabin, blissfully making love until the sun would rise and he would finally kiss you to sleep. Perhaps, it was that summer when you realized you were going to marry and be with Kim Hongjoong forever someday.

Though it’s too bad, someday already passed.

“Do you remember when Seonghwa got so drunk he ended up confessing to Jieun in front of all the girl’s sleeping cabins?” Hongjoong snickers, relishing in the embarrassing memory his friend always hates him for bringing up. You laugh out loud, remembering the memory. “Oh my god, yes!” You turned to face him, shaking your head. “In nothing but his underwear, right?”

Hongjoong nodded, smiling with one hand on the steering wheel as he drove.

“Didn’t he end up jumping into the lake afterwards? With you having to go in and save him as well?” You share your laughter with one another, catching up on past memories as your twin daughters listened attentively in the back, reliving them with you together.

That's what makes the hour and half drive from the city into the wilderness feel so short, finally pulling into the graveled parking lot of the vast cottage resort. White suburban cottages lined along one another, a good amount of distance in between each for every family staying.

As Hongjoong parked the car, the view outside was so glorious you had to hold your breath. Glistening clear blue waves in the lake reflect the bright sunshine from above. A light breeze is present today with the way the willow and oak trees swayed gently.

“It’s beautiful” you gasped from as far as you got out of the car, stretching your upper body with eyes closed as you inhaled the fresh air.

Hongjoong stills his movements, shutting the door before replying with his gaze caught at your backside.

“Yeah, it is” he smiles.

Both of you turn around at a loud voice coming from behind. “We’re gonna explore the campsites and souvenir shops first!” Eunbyeol shouts as she runs away with her sister's hand in hers, towards the wooden cabin that's settled further away.

“What about lunch?” you call to them.

“We’re not hungry!”

Hongjoong tells them to be safe, and to stick around nearby. You smirked, helping him unload the trunk as you told him. “They’ll be fine. They’re probably too excited to even think right now” you giggled, bumping shoulders with him.

You feel the tension that was once so strong between you two fade slowly, walking up the wooden steps of your lodge and exchanging conversation with each other.

“Hey, I just want my babies to be safe” he admits, a grin on his face as he holds the cooler in his hands. You chuckle, shaking your head at his protectiveness.

“Here it is!” he exclaims, setting the suitcases in the front foyer as he opens the door. “Lodge number 1117”

The two story cottage is larger than it appears from the outside, having a modern yet rustic interior that you and Hongjoong admired. It had everything you would need, from a well designed kitchen area to a cozy living room space.

“It’s perfect, the kids will love it” you beam, looking at the hanging hammock chair in the corner of the living room and the gray stone fireplace. It fit perfectly for your family.

Hongjoong smiles, sunglasses perched on top of his head as he sets the luggage down near the kitchen. Walking up beside him, you help him unload the cooler and ice boxes first, settling into your new home for the next few days.

“I’m guessing you still drink?” you ask, looking in his direction as you unloaded the case of beer you saw him bring from the trunk.

He gestured to the booze. “C’mon, it wouldn’t be a vacation without it, would it?”

You wholeheartedly agreed, placing a few in the fridge before you shut it closed.

“Hopefully, this time we won’t end up shit faced like we did back in college” you laugh, turning to face him.

“I can already picture that time we got so drunk from that bottle of tequila my friend brought, we snuck out of the campsite and went to the forest and got lost.” you spoke, the memory a little foggy but nonetheless fresh in your mind.

Hongjoong smiles, listening as you speak.

“There wasn’t anything but trees and bushes in that forest!” You exclaimed, shaking your head. “What did we even do there?”

Hongjoong replies nonchalantly, folding the cardboard box in his hands.

“I’m pretty sure we fucked.”

You momentarily freeze at his words, before letting out a soft awkward laugh, causing him to look up.

“No we didn’t, Hongjoong” you immediately deny, not believing his words. But your brows began furrowing at the foggy memory, starting to realize you really couldn’t trust your alcohol tolerance, now as an adult and even back when you were a college student. Did you guys have sex? In a forest out of all places?

Hongjoong leans against the kitchen counter, across from you as he crosses his arms in front of his chest and smirks smugly.

“Nope, I distinctly remember it” he recalls, taking a step closer so he was now in your space.

“I held your hand in mind as we walked up that trail by the cliff. And gosh, were we horny that night, because I remember you complaining about all that dirt you got on your knees from giving me the greatest head i've ever experienced in my entire life-”

Slapping your hands over his mouth to stop him from going on, you blushed as you glared at him.

“Jesus christ,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes before confessing.

“I get it, we fucked.”

Suddenly, you and Hongjoong break out into giggles like varsity sweethearts again at the story. Though embarrassed and cringing internally from the way you acted as young adults, it was nice to share them together now. At the proximity in which you’re standing in, you can't help but stare at each other softly. A hand wraps around your waist, making your breath hitch as he pulls you closer.

“What are you doing?” you grin, watching him.

He looms over you, able to tell that something sits right at the tip of his tongue that he hesitantly decides to say. “I’m pretty sure,” he mutters, staring at your face and cautiously grazing the skin under your blouse. You feel your breathing speed up.

“I also held you like this in my arms as you were leaning against that tree” his grip gentle and immediately transporting you back to the scenery that night. His sharp tone contrasts his touch.

“Yknow, the one we fucked against?” he teases to you one more time.

The scent of burning campfire. A cold, midnight breeze. The feeling of the rough cedar tree against your back as Hongjoong thrusted inside you with every delirious snap of his hips, holding you close while he fucked you to oblivion with only the forest animals standing witness to your sinful actions. The film replays like a cheesy R-rated romance movie in your mind.

“Did you, now?” You gulp, looking up at him as you adjust to the foreign feeling of his touch on your hips.

“Yeah. I remember it all” he states, smirking down at you with an intense gaze.

The memory dies down when you catch yourself staring at his lips, arms finding their way around his neck as he dives down to whisper softly to you.

“Do you remember too?” He asks.

How he held you in his arms. How he whispered in your ear while you came around his cock, drool and traces of cum littering the corners of your mouth while Hongjoong didn’t care if you were stretching his flannel from how hard you were tugging at the material.

You nod. “I do,” you muttered, lashes fluttering as you felt as though your heart wouldn’t stop beating. “I remember you kissed me on the lips,” you confessed.

Perhaps you wanted him to do it again right now.

He looks in your eyes, searching for your approval that you desperately give, breath hitting each other's faces as he slowly leaned down to try and connect your lips. His chest is pressed against yours, and you begin to realize you haven’t shared the same breath like that in so long. You were so close to kissing right then and there.

If only you leaned in closer…

“We’re back!”

You push Hongjoong across the kitchen, shoving his hip painfully into the marble counter and ignoring his high-pitched groan of agony as you immediately look away to avoid suspicion, continuing to grab the beer from the icebox in front of you.

“Girls!” you exclaimed, voice wavering.

Of course, Eunbyeol and Eunseo walk in with matching postcards and goodies from the souvenir shop in their hands, their sunglasses perched on their heads as their eyes lit up with excitement. They were still oblivious to the fact that they almost caught their parents about to make out in the kitchen.

“Dad, this place is amazing!” Eunbyeol deadpans, telling her father. “They even have jet skiing on the other side of the lake! We gotta go now!”

Hongjoong clutches his hip, pursing his lips as he hides his expression of pain and surprise.

“Really? That's great sweetie”

Eunseo however, is quick to catch on.

“What were you guys doing?” she looks at you suspiciously. Her words hang in the air for a moment.

“Were you guys about to kis-”

Hongjoong and you frantically scurry to find a plausible excuse, shuffling awkwardly.

“I was helping your dad unload the cooler”

“I was helping your mom get something out of her eye”

Both girls stare at you meekly. Eunbyeol scrunches her nose. “Huh?”

Plastering on a fake smile, you briskly leaped over the luggage nearby, ushering them upstairs before they had the chance to ask anymore questions.

“I think it’s time to unpack your things.” you watched their eyebrows quirk at the way you pushed them out the kitchen.

“We can do it on our own, mom! It’s really no big d-”

You clamp Eunbyeol’s mouth shut with your hand, blushing profusely as you walk away with them.

Hongjoong stands there alone in the kitchen, rubbing his hip and wondering what the hell just almost happened.

The next few days, you and Hongjoong don’t discuss the incident between you two. Rather, the beginning of the trip after that event has become a painful performance trying your best to be eerily polite yet distant to each other in front of your children, as if that would make you forget the fact that you two almost kissed in the kitchen.

“Could you pass the sunscreen, honey?” Hongjoong would say awkwardly, turning his back to flash you a cheery smile on the lake deck as Eunbyeol and Eunseo watched you interact while floating in the cool, summer waters.

You passed the bottle to your ex-husband while maintaining awkward distance. “Of course, darling!”

“Thanks honey!”

“No problem sweetheart!”

This resulted in Eunbyeol and Eunseo looking at their parents in horror, the youngest twin muttering under her breath as they discussed an urgent change of plans.

“We have to get them to stop being weird.”

Apart from that, the ‘family bonding time’ promise to your daughters was maintained, and each day was an adventure for all of you in terms of what you would do together next. An accumulation of forest trekking, water-skiing and outdoors barbeques on the patio of your cottage made everyday feel more and more special for your girls, seeing how they relished in having both their parents with them at the same place and time. It became moments of peace and resolution that eventually became special for you and Hongjoong too.

“I hope we stay here forever,” Eunseo blurted out one evening after a blissful day near the lakeshore, watching as the sun began to go down. She was busy licking the sticky sides of her melting ice cream cone in one hand, the other one held in yours.

Hongjoong and Eunbyeol were a few feet ahead, laughing loudly and holding hands as they compared their fruit popsicles with one another to see whose was bigger.

“You and Byeol would eventually get sick of going to the lake all the time” You smiled, the corners of your mouth turning up before her next words made the strings of your heart tug.

“Sure, but at least you and dad could be together with us too.”

You watched as she ran up to her sister and dad, joining in on their fun as she began boasting that her ice cream was better than theirs. Hongjoong’s smile is the biggest you’ve ever seen it to be, looking down at his girls with a golden tan from the past few days spent outside, and hair slightly damp from swimming.

Any person could tell the love in his eyes was as pure a father’s love for his girls could be.

Her words stuck with you until that very night, where after dinner, board games, and much pacing back and forth in your own room before getting into bed, you decided to cautiously approach Hongjoong’s room on the opposite side of the second floor.

Bare feet padded across the wooden floors as you peeked through the sliver of the open door.

He's wearing an oversized sleep tee and blue pajama pants, getting in some nighttime reading before bed. His glasses are perched on his nose, intently reading his paperback novel. He looks as domestic as a husband gets.

At the sound of your steps though, he sits up from his relaxed state on his bed, one arm that was supporting his head coming out as the other hand settles the book down on his abdomen. He looks surprised to see you.

“Hi” he states, looking at you.

“Hey”

Hongjoong’s expression immediately softened at your figure, watching as you shuffled awkwardly in front of him. The room is quiet.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” He nods, setting his bookmark in the spine of the cover and turning his attention to you, offering you to take a seat on his linen covers. You see his polaroid camera with photos taken of Eunbyeol and Eunseo perched on a desk nearby.

You don’t see the ones he secretly took of you, as those are in his drawers.

“Don’t tell me you can’t sleep by yourself” he gently teases before watching as your smile doesn't reach the ends of your eyes. You wrap your silk robe closer to your body, feeling sort of vulnerable.

“How do you like the resort so far?” He asks, watching as you played with your fingers absentmindedly. “Is the room okay?”

“It’s wonderful Hongjoong, better than I could ever have hoped for.” You spoke up, telling the truth.

It’s hard to arrange your thoughts in your head when it’s just the two of you in his room. The kids were already fast asleep. Now was your chance to just tell him how you felt. Why were you hesitating so much?

“Hey, look at me.” Hongjoong’s soft voice calls out to you, a protective hand coming out to caress the back of your head in habit. He can tell you want to say something, and the gesture makes you emotional, remembering how he always used to do that to ease your nerves when you were younger.

“What’s wrong? Am I making things uncomfortable on the trip?” he worries about the boundaries you established with him at the beginning, watching as your lip begins to quiver and the emotions suddenly overcome you.

“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” you sniffled, tears forming near the brim of your eyes as you looked up at the father of your children.

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, shifting through the covers over to you. “Woah, hey, shh that’s alright I got you” he coos, immediately going into dad mode and embracing you in his arms, letting your head rest against his chest.

The action is natural, no longer foreign or weird, and you silently thank him for leaving reassuring circles on your back. Husband or not, Hongjoong would always be your best friend first. You had forgotten how much you missed this comforting side to him.

“Tell me what you’re sorry about” he states, chest tightening at your wet cheeks before he slowly raises your chin to look him in the eyes.

“For being mean to you for so long” you sniffle, a weakened state of emotional guilt eating away at you. You let him watch you carefully.

“I’ve been thinking about how happy the girls have been during this trip. A-And it kills me that we’ve been fighting for the past seven years, and that they’ve grown up seeing such bad parts of ourselves, of my own self” you ramble, confessing how you felt.

You look up. “They’re happy because we’re together Joong. Because we’re not fighting or avoiding each other like we used to do before.”

He watches as you look up at him with tears forming in your eyes.

“You’re such a good dad. And I realized you deserve to hear that.”

At the sounds of more sniffles, Hongjoong finally speaks, smiling as he brushes stray hair from your face.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else but you to be the mother of our children, I hope you know that”

His truthfulness throws you off guard.

“I’m sorry too” he sighs, letting you sit up straight and look him in the eyes properly. “I haven’t been the best partner either, baby. We were both mean to each other.” he says, brushing a tear away from your face.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve thrown a hair dryer at me once before as well” he attempts to make you laugh, affection blooming in his chest when he sees he succeeds, wiping your tears.

“But I already knew how you felt, sweetheart. I always know” he smiles, eyes mirroring a weak ache in his heart.

“Married or not, we were once friends. And now we’re family” His voice turns deep, strong and dependable like the father he’s become.

“We can start over” you tell him, smiling as he folds his hands over your palm. “We can always do better from now and going forward. For ourselves, and for Eunseo and Eunbyeol.”

Hongjoong nods, hesitantly for a split second before he leans over to press a soft kiss to your cheek, showing a gesture of affection that you longed for so long.

You shut your eyes, the kiss making your heart flutter.

“Friends again?” He whispers, though silently wanting something more.

You sighed, pulling him in closer to embrace in a hug. “Friends” you nodded while inhaling his comforting scent.

The next morning, and for the rest of the remaining trip onwards, you and Hongjoong’s relationship dynamics did the equivalent of a 180 degree turn.

It’s hard to believe you two really just wanted to be ‘friends’

Eunbyeol and Eunseo could tell by the way you talked to each other more, noticing you share more secret glances and fleeting touches that were innocent to the eye, but concealing a longing that you both tried to hide. You knew you couldn’t get carried away. You and Hongjoong were simply resolving a rough patch in your parenting. Not getting back together in a relationship.

But after spending more time together while Eunbyeol and Eunseo became occupied on their own, it was hard keeping the interactions to a justified amount. Long walks in the forest, evenings spent cooking together, even cuddling together on the couch during family movie night. Thinking your kids were too busy watching the vintage Disney movie play on screen, when in fact, the real love story they were more invested in was happening right in front of their eyes, watching their parents falling in love again.

This led to the last event in their plan that they hoped would finally seal the deal.

On Saturday night, the last night of your trip before you had to go back to the city, you and Hongjoong are surprised to find mini invitations left on your beds, scribbled in glitter pen and cursive handwriting reading out the following:

Gourmet Dinner Date for 2

Time: 7:30 pm

Location: Outdoor patio

Dress code: Formal and Classy

You and your husband chuckled at the cards left on your beds, suddenly finding a twin each by your side and ushering you to get ready.

“Do you and your sister even know how to cook dinner, Eunbyeol?” You questioned as your daughter rushed to push you into your walk-in closet, forcing you to get ready.

She huffs, placing her hands on her hips looking offended.

“At least my cooking skills don’t take after Dad’s, mom.” She mumbled, choosing your shoes for you. “Have some trust in a girl!”

Meanwhile, Hongjoong gets pampered by Eunseo in the other room, though in reality, her blunt critiques on her dads fashion are bruising his pride at the moment.

“Dad, you have many normal clothes to wear. You have to chill with the ripped baggy jeans.” she demands, trudging through his closet to find something formal for him to wear.

He begins to protest but his daughter shakes her head. “You’re supposed to look good for mom!” she huffs, searching on her own. At Eunseo’s words, the man starts to slightly worry, scratching the back of his head.

“You and Byeol are gonna join too, right?”

She stops for a second, looking back to her father as she avoids the question and instead retorts back.

“It’s just a date, Dad. Relax”

Back to what was happening in the other room at the end of the hallway, you huffed in frustration when you walked back into your closet after Byeol rejected another one of your outfits for the dinner date.

“I have nothing else to wear, sweetie, these are all the clothes I have.” you came to terms with a hand coming to your forehead after having searched in despair.

The ten year old shakes her head before pushing you out of the way and digging deep into your suitcase. She reveals a delicate piece of material you didn’t even realize you packed.

“We got some help from Aunt Sophie and Uncle Hwa to pack you guys clothes that you could wear for a special occasion.” she wiggles her eyebrows, a smug grin on her face as you gap in shock.

You inspect the dress, lips parting in disbelief as you feel the material.

“I haven’t worn this since I was in college.” You uttered softly to yourself.

At one longing look of the short dress, you shake your head, walking back into the closet to find something else. “I-I can’t wear this Byeol, what would your dad think?“ you asked nervously.

“Dad said he thinks your boobs looked hot in this dress so Aunt Sophie and I picked it specially” she looks up at you, proud of what she just said.

You whip your head around, mouth hanging open in shock.

“Byeol! Where did you hear that from?”

She sighs. “Dad had one too many drinks this one time and started talking about you guys back in college” she explained before shoving the infamous black dress in your hands.

“Talked a lot about how pretty you were,” she draws out her words in a teasing voice. You curse your husband for his mistake.

You bite your lip as you stare down at the fabric in your hands.

It was undeniable. You knew you looked amazing in this dress. You could testify from the amount of times Hongjoong ripped it off of you after countless night out’s filled with sexual tension and playful flirting. For god's sake, Eunbyeol and Eunseo could’ve almost had another sibling thanks to that dress.

“Fine.” you muttered bashfully, turning away as you walked into the closet to change.

“But I’m just gonna try it on.”

Thirty minutes, one mental breakdown and too many outfit changes to count later, you walk down the stairs wearing the dress Eunbyeol had successfully persuaded you to wear.

What do you know, the kid was right. Your boobs looked amazing in that dress.

Not just your boobs, your whole body looked incredible with its strong curves and the beautiful fill it gave to the dress, making it slightly tighter than when you wore it as a twenty year old, but still all the more mature and sophisticated. You really did look hot.

Eunbyeol rushes down the stairs before you, catching up with her sister to inspect her job on their fathers preparation.

“Well?” She says expectedly, looking at her dad. “Let’s take a look!”

He sports a simple yet timeless white collar dress shirt, the first few buttons undone as he wears a form fitting black dress-vest that accentuates his waist, dress pants paired to go along with it. Though simple, his silver rings pulled the outfit together, making him just as good looking and sophisticated as you were.

Hongjoong’s back faces towards your front, watching as the man nervously shuffles his hands in his pockets.

“How do I look guys?” He gulps, adjusting his collar and sweeping his blond hair back.

Eunseo rolls her eyes, a grin on her proud little face. “Do you even have to ask, dad?” She’s more than confident in the outfit she and Seonghwa coordinated together.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he nervously tells them.

“I want to look good for your mom, you know what I mean? She's a difficult woman to impress sometimes.”

“I’m difficult?” You tease, walking down the last few steps of the stairs.

The man turns his head around, losing his breath at the sight of you standing there in front of him, wearing that dress that he hadn’t seen you wear for so long, looking breathtaking in every possible way.

“Hi” you grinned softly, feeling sort of shy.

The way you fit in that dress made an insatiable hunger fuel inside Hongjoongs chest, eyes gazing at the way you strutted over in the black, lace covered material with your hair tied back and glossed lips turned upwards as your dimples showed. He breaks from his admiration when you quirk a brow at him, making the man almost fall to his knees and stutter uncontrollably.

“I-I No I didn’t mean that-“

You giggle as you bravely take Hongjoongs hands in your own, shutting him up as you turn to your daughters standing in front of you, starstruck at your aura.

“Outside, right?” you winked at them.

“Right this way!” Eunseo enthusiastically leads you out back to the outdoor patio, a perfect view of the garden and lakeside coming into effect. Hongjoong slips his hand from yours, and slides it across your waist, pulling you into his side.

“My parents are too cool” Eunbyeol sighs under her breath, watching from behind in awe.

Your ex-husband makes you swoon when he leans in to whisper softly. “You look breathtaking, sweetheart.” feeling an immense sense of pride at how lucky he was to make you the mother of his children.

You blush, turning to him to whisper playfully back.

“Not bad yourself.”

You both look forward when you come to a stop at the patio steps, sheer amazement at the full preparation your daughters did for this event. Fairy lights were hung around the area, a table with two chairs on either side placed with a white table cloth and a bouquet of freshly hand picked flowers from the forest, battery powered candles that were sold at the souvenir shop lit in the middle and glowing softly.

Eunbyeol dashes to the door when it rings, making you and Hongjoong furrow your brows.

“Is someone here?” he asks, watching Eunseo fold a napkin over her arm like the pro waiter she was. The other one walks out, an oily fast food paper bag in her hands as she smiles. “Dinner is served!”

“Turns out that diner 15 minutes away also delivers!” She chuckled, helping her sister plate the two cheeseburgers, fries, and vanilla and strawberry milkshakes.

You and Hongjoong continue to watch in stunned amazement as the girls prepare the not exactly gourmet(?) but still impressive meal in front of you, their small hands working swiftly.

“You guys prepared all of this?” You asked, getting a little emotional. They grin proudly, nodding their heads. “We called the place earlier and planned it all by ourselves!”

You pressed a kiss to each of their soft cheeks, thanking them both as Hongjoong did the same.

“What did I do to get so lucky with my girls?” he smiles, ruffling their heads.

“What about you guys?” You asked, watching as they slowly backed away to give you two some privacy.

“Natalie and her mom invited us over for dinner and a sleepover tonight at her cottage,” Eunbyeol smiles. At the mention of their newly made friend that they had gotten close to over the week, Hongjoong looks at you then back at them.

“What? But- ”

She cuts him off, rolling her eyes. “Her mom said it’s totally fine with her. She’s only two cottages down, and she’ll make sure we’re back in time again for tomorrow when we leave!”

The two girls smile in excitement, though the both of you have your parental instincts kick in.

“Please?” they begged, wanting you to let them go so that they could do this for you guys as much as they wanted to do it for themselves. “She’s waiting for us now!”

Hongjoong feels guilty. “C’mon, you guys should still join us!”

Eunseo immediately shakes her head, declining the offer.

“Tonight is all about you guys. We don’t want to intrude” she chuckles, bumping shoulders with her sister who chips in.

“We’ll text you guys in the middle to let you know everything’s good of course”

You and Hongjoong smile, a feeling of immense proudness overwhelming you from seeing your daughters act so grown up. There wasn’t anything else you felt grateful for more.

“Thank you girls.” you muttered softly, watching as they flashed you a wink before hurrying out through the backyard door.

“Don’t get all kissy in the backyard!” Eunbyeol teases, making cheesy smooching sounds with the back of her hand as her sister rolls her eyes and shoves her out.

Before you know it, you’re left standing with just the sound of smooth jazz playing on the patio speakers and the buzzing of the summer cicadas.

“She takes after you, I hope you know that” You told Hongjoong softly.

He chuckles, “Not as much as you.” He gestures to the table. “Shall we?”

And that’s how the next few hours seem to pass by without even realizing.

You see, there was a reason why you fell in love with the man sitting in front of you, and you’re just beginning to remember it now. Being with Hongjoong felt as if the moment was everlasting, and you could testify that from the amount of laughter and deep conversation that was shared over dinner, bringing you to sit on that patio until the sun had set. Every so often you’d smile again at the thought of the twins preparing this all for you.

“I don’t remember the last time I’ve been on a date like this” You blurted out after laughing about something, taking a sip of your strawberry milkshake through a straw.

“Oh, so we’re going on dates now, are we?” Hongjoong grins, making you roll your eyes at him.

You lean forward on the table cloth, watching as a glimmer passes through your husband’s eyes while he sits back in his chair, cocking his head to the side as he clears his voice.

“But you’ve gone on dates after we split, haven’t you?” he asks, leaning forward in interest now, letting his chin rest on his palm.

You shook your head slowly.

“Nope. Not since signing those papers” you revealed.

Hongjoong furrows his brows in surprise. “And why’s that?”

You suddenly didn’t have an answer. “I-I don’t know, I just…” You began, watching how he looked at you with an unreadable expression. You smiled, looking down and suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“I guess I was too focused on running the bridal shop, I couldn’t find the time to.” You use as a cliche excuse.

“Bullshit” he retorts back immediately.

“It’s true!” You protested, throwing a fry at him that he dodges, landing on his finished plate.

“You always did say back when we were younger that you wanted to be a designer. And look at you now” he admires, letting the candle lights shine a youthful glow to your face.

“You always said you wanted to become a music producer and write your own songs.” you reciprocated, smiling as you soaked in the presence of one another. “And here you are now.”

You think for a moment before asking the same question.

“How about you?”

Hongjoong silently shakes his head as his answer, though silently thinking about something else. The music changes to some old Billy Joel song in the back. You don’t realize it, but Hongjoong smiles to himself when he realizes the girls added it to the playlist. Of course they had to, it was one of the songs you played at your wedding.

“What were we thinking when we got married like that?” You asked out loud, looking at how far you’d both come. You definitely skipped some of the order of the stages of a normal relationship.

“I mean, we had no money, no prospects. Hell, we didn’t even have a car, Hongjoong!” you realized.

Your husband laughs, sitting straight and letting some skin show through his unbuttoned collar.

“We were young” he justifies.

“Yeah, and stupid too,” you pointed out, feeling the summer breeze pass by. It felt good to sit here like this with him.

You wondered, could sitting here like this with Hongjoong be a regular thing? After this trip, would you be able to walk back into each other’s lives again like this?

As both parents and lovers?

Hongjoong brings up something you wouldn’t have expected him to.

“Do you remember when we first found out about Eunseo and Eunbyeol?” he questioned softly, looking at you.

You blink, taken aback. Suddenly you’re back in your college dorm washroom, sobs wracking through your body as Hongjoong who had only just sent his first few mixtapes to recording stations and companies nearby, pulled you close into his chest, eyeing the two lines left on the counter while he caressed your back. Only twenty years old and figuring out what you wanted to do with your lives, you were suddenly stuck in a sudden situation that had made you feel like your dreams would have been given up on completely.

“I do,” you told him, pulling yourself from the memory.

“I remember because in that moment I felt like the whole world was caving in”. You laughed, though it wasn’t fully cheerful.

“I don’t regret it, though” Hongjoong replies after some thought, gazing at you with truth in his eyes.

You shook your head. “Of course. Neither do I.”

It was a blessing to have two beautiful daughters as the product of your love.

“I don’t regret you either.” Hongjoong states.

You lock gazes, unable to take your eyes off of his face.

“I loved you when I first met you and I still loved you when we divorced,” he says all at once, making your breath hitch and heart waver.

“Don’t say that.” you tell him, looking away and suddenly reminding yourself you’re still divorced from the man sitting in front of you.

How could he still love you after all this time? How could you feel the same about him?

Hongjoong continues, shaking his head as he bites back the lodge in his throat and makes up his mind. He has to tell you.

“Truthfully, I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”

Don’t do this to me you begged silently.

“I’ve hurt you just as much as you’ve hurt me.” He swallows, thinking back to the times you already knew he was referring to. The times where you fought to the point where there wasn’t even anything worth fighting for anymore.

“But you have given me the greatest gifts of my life.” He smiles, holding his tears back.

“And for that I will always love you.”

You push your seat from the table, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and wanting to avoid him.

“I can’t do this anymore.” you dejected, walking away from the patio and from Hongjoong.

There wasn’t anything else you could fake anymore. You couldn’t bear to hear the man you once loved, possibly even still love, say these things like he had a dagger lodged in his heart. Didn’t he know he was only going to do the same to you?

Hongjoong is quick to catch up, holding onto your wrist and turning you around, that your back collides with the nearest wall inside, pressing your fronts together and closing the distance.

“Why do you always run away from me? From the possibility of us?” He exclaimed, voice breaking. His heart crushed at the way you turned your head, hot tears already clouding your vision.

“Because ‘us’ can’t happen again, Hongjoong!” You cried, staring up at the man you once promised your life to.

“Don’t you get it? Us going on this trip isn’t a sign to get back together. What would we do seven years after breaking up?”

“We could do it” He states firmly, staring you down, both your chests heaving.

You bite your tears back again. “No we couldn’t, honey. We would be pretending to think we solved our marriage. What would we do about our daughters? After putting them through our constant fighting— ”

He slams his lips to your own, shutting you up as you painfully resist his touch. Your hands came up to push him away, but at the sudden gesture, you’re already giving in and sobbing softly, letting him hold you for just one last time.

Your lips mold so perfectly, it almost hurts how much you missed this feeling. To have him slot his arms around your waist, pull you in close, and cherish you. You almost forgot this feeling.

He pulls away softly, watching your lashes flutter, pleading to you for a chance as he leans closer, making your breath hitch.

“We could be together as a family again,” he states firmly, your name leaving his lips in a desperate plea. “We never know if we try—”

You drown out his words, looking up with tears falling as you cut him off.

“Seven years ago I gave you those papers to sign, thinking that you would’ve chased after me,”

Hongjoong holds his breath, watching as the next words stumble from your mouth.

“I realize now, how stupid I was to think that.”

“I didn’t know you wanted me to chase you”

Shoving his chest away while mustering the last of your strength you uttered. “Of course I wanted you to chase me.” You let go of his hands. “It’s too late either way”, walking away from the defeated man.

Hongjoong stands alone near the patio entrance, watching his tears fall to the wooden floorboards. Holding the ring he had kept hidden in his trouser pocket, he plays with it in his fingers, silently wishing he had given it to you sooner.

It rains the next morning on your departure back to the city. Perfect, considering it reflects the sudden storm of utter depression that falls upon your family. Long gone are the cheerful giggles and longing stares that were shared between you and Hongjoong during the ride to the cottage.

There was no room for that, not after last night.

Eunbyeol and Eunseo sat slumped in the backseat, rain hitting the roof of the car as they mindlessly played on their cell phones. Really, they were peeking from behind every so often and watching their parents sit in the front seat with tension so thick, you could’ve cut it with a knife.

What had they done wrong? They planned the trip, the activities, the dinner— it was all perfect. And yet why were you still fighting with each other?

These questions racked in their brains, baffled to have witnessed the sight of their parents refusing to talk to each other after walking back from their friends' sleepover.

Eunbyeol and Eunseo felt as useful as matchmakers without a couple, feeling their efforts all gone down the drain.

At the sudden ring of your cell phone, you pick up, answering at the voice of your assistant.

“I’m driving back up right now”

Hongjoong continues focusing on the road, the occasional wiping of rain from the windshield wipers on the front window.

“Yes. That’s okay, I'll take care of it.” You muttered, glancing at the rear view mirror for a moment. Your twin daughters immediately sigh, having an idea of what to expect when you say those familiar words.

“Thanks for letting me know.”

You hang up the phone,

“One of us isn’t going with you, are we?” Eunseo asks, making you look back at her with a sigh.

“No, you’re not” You confess, apologetic. ‘I’m sorry honey. I really am.”

You look back facing the front, swallowing as you told Hongjoong.

“You’ll have to drop me off at the studio. Some things aren’t working out with the client so they need me to come in and take care of it.”

He nods, unphased as he continues to look straight.

“Will you be fine with the girls?” You asked carefully, watching them as they were slumped in the backseat.

Hongjoong grips the wheel before turning to you.

“I‘ll be fine. Don’t worry about it” sending a small smile, though it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

The twins thank god that at least neither of them had to choose to go back home with either parent.

They would’ve hated that more.

After barely being able to depart and say goodbye to your daughters in front of your studio, holding them close for a warm embrace and thanking them for an unforgettable weekend, Hongjoong drives off with his daughters, an empty feeling cascading his thoughts. He puts on a smile still, trying to cheer up his girls.

“What do you want to do first when we go home? Want to unpack and then eat? We can eat and then unpack. Or we could- ”

Eunseo crosses her arms, having been fed up for far too long.

“Dad, you must be out of your mind.”

Hongjoong stills, furrowing his brows and peeking at the first born who crosses her arms, holding an attitude.

“Eunseo, what are you- ”

“You’re telling me you and Mom just spent a whole entire week together at the cottage, had the best time of your lives since separating with one another, and now you’re just going to go back to not speaking or talking to each other again?”

Hongjoong blinks at his daughter’s sudden outburst, already making a turn into the driveway of his house.

Eunbyeol now reciprocates her twin, looking at her dad as she slouches beside him, coming near the front seat area.

“She’s got a point dad. Do you really just not love mom anymore?” She worries, looking up at him genuinely concerned.

Hongjoong doesn’t know how to answer these sudden questions right now, stuttering to reply.

“Me and your mother are fine!” He lies, trying to reassure them. “That trip wasn’t just for us, it was also for you two to enjoy— ”

Eunseo asks the million dollar question.

“If you still love Mom, why are you letting her go a second time?”

With the engine turned off, it's gone silent. Two pairs of eyes staring at their father, awaiting his response.

“Well? Are you going to chase after her or not?!” Eunbyeol groans, her fathers lack of response making her pull her hair.

They were right. How could he have made the same stupid mistake twice?

Hongjoong struggles to put the keys back in the engine, telling them to put their seat belts back on. Their eyes begin to glow with hope.

“Do you girls mind staying at your uncle’s for a bit?” He asks hurriedly, punching into his cell phone to call his brother for a favor as he pulls out of the driveway. Eunbyeol squeals, hands clamping over her mouth as her sister speaks on behalf of them both.

“Dad, if you don’t drop us off and get your butt over to mom’s right away, I’m gonna report you to child services.” she threatens, watching as he steps on the accelerator, heart pumping so fast as he smiles through the rear view mirror.

You sighed, holding up your cellphone to your ear.

“Call me once she approves the design then,” you told your assistant through the receiver, one hand looking over the sheets of paper, highlighting the changes to the new blueprint.

“Alright then, bye.”

After hanging up the phone, you rubbed your temples, head pounding as you tucked the files back into the folder.

The clock in your studio showed the hands about to reach seven pm. A few hours had already passed since coming back from your trip to the cottage, trying to forget everything by burying your focus into the new dress prints a client of yours requested, remodeling them after the original was rejected.

Fingers worked away swiftly, comparing textiles and fabrics as you looked at the piles of papers and messy sticky notes in front of you. But yet the gears in your mind seemed to churn achingly slow, sighing as you repeatedly told yourself the same thing.

Just focus on the dress, focus on the dress, focus on the dress.

Don’t think about him.

The task is impossible. Your mind can’t help but slip back to what your relationship has become with Hongjoong, and what you were going to do now that those seven days were over. For so long you had deprived yourself from indulging in your love life, prioritizing taking care of Eunseo and Eunbyeol while juggling your job as a designer. Had you been doing it all wrong?

Hongjoong’s words repeat in your head like a broken record player.

I will always love you

Lies. That promise couldn’t be kept. Your divorce was a clear outcome of it. You and Hongjoong were two people not meant for one another. You were too different, all you would do is hurt one another, make life an unbearable living hell—

And yet you missed him. You missed Hongjoong so much.

What was fucking keeping you from loving him? Was it your stubbornness? Was it really the fact that he didn’t chase after you? Or was it none of that and just your own self being stupid?

The front door of the studio opens, pulling you from your thoughts as you got back to the sketches. You called up from your desk as you worked quietly.

“The studios closed for the- ”

Heavy breathing. The man who just walked in catches his breath from dashing out of his car and up the three flights of stairs, driving through almost an hour of traffic in pouring rain to be here in this moment with you.

“Hongjoong?”

He’s drenched, making a mess on the floor of the studio as the droplets fall softly one by one.

Suddenly he's striding over to where you’re sitting in long steps before slamming his lips against yours. The kiss throws you off guard, the shock of his cold hands cradling your face makes you close the gap unknowingly.

Linking your arms around his neck while kissing back passionately, you let your hands rest on his shoulders, pulling back for air as you panted heavily, catching your breaths and looking at each other with pure love and lust.

“Why are you here?” you asked, feeling dumb because your heart already knew the answer. His hands wrap around your waist, desperate as if you would leave him again.

But he’s just so fucking tired of that now. He just wants to love you now.

“I lost you once.” He breathes, eyes watering.

“I’m not going to lose you again”.

Suddenly, everything that kept you from being with each other is thrown away.

That hate, that fear, everything is gone because you realize you still needed each other. You’re still the same twenty year old couple standing in that dorm washroom, holding each other close and knowing it’ll be okay because at least you had each other.

You grasp onto his damp shirt, pulling him down with such force that your lips meet again, taking charge as you finally allowed him to have you.

“You’re a fucking idiot” you whined between kisses, curses escaping your lips when he softly bites the flesh of your neck to test the waters. “I hope you know that”

He agrees wholeheartedly, nodding as if he was already getting pussydrunk.

“I’m an idiot” he mumbles to himself, letting it escape his lips like a mantra. Well, he was stupid enough to only chase after you this late, so if his wife told him he was an idiot, then so he was.

“Let me prove how much I love you,” a hand comes to graze near the collar of your shirt.

You gasped, watching as Hongjoong lifted you from your seat and rutted his hips against your core pathetically, your ass digging into the edge of the table.

“Here?” Your eyes widened, watching his expression turn dark. He presses kisses on your collarbone, making your hands grasp the wood for support. “Hongjoong wait,” you exhaled in a deep breath, heart beating against your chest.

But he doesn’t give a shit. He’s tired of waiting.

“It’s been too fucking long” he protests, ripping your top off. You’re dizzy from how abruptly he’s stripping you, latching onto his shoulders for support as you wobble from him unzipping your jeans and pushing them down, exposing you in nothing but your underwear and bra.

And like the good little whore you are, you immediately spread your legs, letting Hongjoong get a view of the embarrassingly wet patch leaking through your panties as he’s crouched down to let you step out of the denim near your ankles.

Holy fucking shit

You stand bashfully, toes curling from how exposed and vulnerable you were being the only one naked.

“Please?” you asked nicely, letting your foot rest on his shoulder as your pussy was now on full display for him.

You don’t have time to even finish the last word before Hongjoong dives in, lapping at your soaking cunt and humming in pure ecstasy at the taste. The muffled vibrations make you throw your head back, tugging on his locks to shove his face further.

Hongjoong’s hands press into your thighs that cage his head in, leaving a grip that you guarantee with littering the flesh with red splotchy bruises. Did you mind? Not at all.

When his tongue pokes at the gummy flesh of your walls, you let out a full moan, echoing throughout the studio as the air begins to smell like sex.

“Right there, yes” you urged him, leg beginning to shake from how weak it was getting.

He's so invested, you fear he might suffocate any longer if he doesn’t pull back for air. So you grasp his head, pushing him away from his meal while you both gasped lightly.

You watch him wipe his slick covered chin with the back of his hand, not breaking eye contact as he stares.

“You were just begging to be fucked for all these years, weren’t you sweetheart?” He teases.

Though you wanted him to lap at your juices until you came, you knew you needed to still feel his cock inside after so long.

Your fingers played with the hem of your underwear, smiling back at your husband.

“And you were just begging to get a taste of this pussy, weren’t you, Joong?” wiping that smug grin off his face.

”Lay down for me” he demands, getting up so that one hand finds its way to the back of your bra to unclasp it. The other clears half your desk covered in wedding dress blueprints and sketches, making sure nothing would make you uncomfortable before he fucked you on that mahogany surface so all you’d remember would be his name.

And people said romance was dead.

When the bra slides off and your bare back hits your desk, you suddenly realize what Hongjoong’s intention was when he ordered you to do that.

Soft mounds spill out as your breasts take their natural form, giving Hongjoong the perfect view of your tits. Pervert.

He immediately latches his tongue on a nipple, taking his hand and playing with the other, twisting painfully.

A cry escapes your lips, parting them open as you let him play with them as much as he wanted to. He smiles against the motherfuckers, knowing that shut you up perfectly.

“Are you ready for me to fuck you now?”

“Please, Joong, I need you” you whined, submitting yourself to your husband. He already knows you’re in need of one last kiss, coming up to give his wife what she wants by slotting his lips against yours again, this time much harsher.

“Tell me so that I treat you good, baby” he mumbles, pulling back and making you clench your thighs together. He undoes his shirt in the meantime, unbuckling his belt and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek when you sobbed.

“Fuck me, please”

His fingers slide your panties to the side to press his aching tip to your wet core.

“Like this?” He teases.

“Inside, Hongjoong” you emphasized, meaning what you said with the way your nails dug into a pile of papers nearby. Biting your lip from how sensitive and needy your cunt was.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, smiling to himself after messing with you.

“I just missed this pretty cunt” before in one strong thrust, Hongjoong’s bulging tip enters inside your walls, giving you a stretch you forgot how much you loved. You whined softly.

“Shit” he curses, relishing how the buildup finally led to this moment.

The man is ravenous, but he’s genuinely trying his best to ease the painful stretch as you adjust to his thickness, nipping your neck in a trail of hickeys and love bites posessively.

With every thrust he makes, you arch your back, pencils and papers shuffling near by you.

“Fucking look at my wife” he admires proudly, watching the woman he loves bounce her tits at every thrust of his cock.

“S’too much” you caved in, shaking your head at the stimulation.

You claw at his arms, head turning to the side as your eyes roll back from pleasure.

“I know, mama, I know”

He grabs a tit in his left hand, the right one coming down to play with your clit, pressing slow circles near where you were connected.

“Fuck, I missed these” He rasps, savouring the feeling of your soft flesh in his hand, making you throw your head back.

“Missed how they looked when you were pregnant” he says, thinking of how ethereal you looked when you were knocked up with his kids.

“God, at this point I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant again” Hongjoong grunts, snapping his hips deliriously back and forth. He envisions you round and full, fulfilling his inner fantasy.

“Shut up.” You spat, breaking the mood as you bit your lip to suppress a moan. He almost laughs when you then crane your hips back to give him easier access to keep penetrating you. The desk shuffles.

“Your mouth is saying one thing, honey, but your body is saying something else”

After hearing his words, you suck him in further, both of you now getting close.

“M’close. M’so close!” you whimpered, sitting up so that now Hongjoong could hold you in his arms, caging your body so his cock could stuff you better.

Your mouth hangs open in silent bliss, hands scratching his back. You leaned into his ear, making the final chord inside him snap.

“Make me cum, daddy”

And just like that, you’re clenching around Hongjoong’s massive cock as a creamy white ring begins to form. Hot ropes fill you up inside, tangled in a sweaty mess as he purrs, caressing the back of your head again in habit.

“So fucking good, sweetheart. You did so good for me”

The sounds of your breathing fill the studio, a pencil or two rolling quietly away on the ground from being shoved off the desk. He shakes his head when you try to pull your sweaty bodies away, hair sticking to your neck but feeling the way he refuses.

“Just let me love you,” he mumbles into your shoulder, dick softening inside you. “Just for a moment.”

You’re too tired to say anything back, so you finally give in.

Seven years passed by you two without even realizing how much you still loved each other. Though you wouldn’t be able to get that time back, for once, there was something that you and Hongjoong agreed upon.

You had no intention of wasting that time any more.

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄:

Months later, and it still takes everything in Eunbyeol and Eunseo hearts to not scream at the sight of their parents when they walk hand in hand, smiling happily in public as they pick their daughters up from the first day of school.

The girls jump into their parent’s embrace, eying the two silver rings they now wore proudly together.

“How was school, darlings?” Hongjoong asks, pressing a kiss to Eunseo and Eunbyeol.

“It was fun! We watched a documentary about lovebirds” she smiled, looking back up. You laughed softly.

“Which reminded me to tell you,” she grins, watching as you, her sister, and father all looked at her.

“I hope you know that getting you and dad back together was my plan from the start.” she confesses, smirking at Eunbyeol who scoffs, crossing her arms.

“Nuh uh, this was my idea first!”

Before her sister could yell at her twin, you jumped in.

“Plan? What plan?” You asked quizzically, both you and Hongjoong standing there confused.

“To get you guys to fall back in love again, of course!” Eunseo smiles, both her and her sister now giggling softly together.

“How am I just finding out that there was a plan?” Hongjoong mutters, scratching his neck in confusion. You turned to the two girls, stopping in your tracks on your way to the car

“When did you two even think of all this?” grinning in astonishment as you felt Hongjoong slot his hand and intertwine it with yours. It felt natural now.

“Yeah, I'm curious too” he states, leaning close and becoming intrigued.

Your daughters look at each other before smiling.

“It’s a long story.”

But at last, time is something you finally now have as a reunited family of four, walking back to your car, holding hands with a twin on each side.

Listening carefully, as your daughters start from the very beginning.

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insufferablelust · 4 months ago

Text

GEVĪ [BEAUTIFUL] Aemond Targaryen x F!Sister!Reader

This work contains mature acts, Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

Two dragons, hatched from the same womb, nurtured by the same hands, yet bestowed with different fates— how do you, rekindle your love for Aemond after he has left you to pursue your mother and brother’s wishes? well he will show you how.

Words counted: 7.2k

Content include: 18+ MDNI! Targcest (canon incest practice of the Targaryen house), Smut, Sex, Oral sex (F receiving), Heavy corruption kink, breeding kink, Slight exhibitionism (Sex next to window), Choking, Claiming of maidenhood, Manhandling, Slight degradation, Reader has the attributes of the Targaryens (silver hair, purple eyes etc), Mention of blood (nothing graphic), Slight angst (mention of fidelity and arguments nothing heavy), Mention of usurping the throne (half-canon), LOTS of pet names (i’m a sucker for those).

Hello! this is my second HOTD character fic, yes this one is smutty too lol, its a filler i wish to post before posting the completed requests, this is NOT BETA’d, because i’m slammed with work so I apologize, however, a friend of mine will try to beta this soon (so it’ll be revised). Remember that english is not my native language so bear with me. My request is always open for HOTD characters. Enjoy and let me know what you think! thank you my loves.

Masterlist

The soft pitter patter sound of your nieces and nephews makes you giggle in delight, their tiny puffy hands clutching the dragon figure, making gestures of flying them around, as they make sounds to imitate the giant beasts. Jaeherys and Jaehaera were playing on your personal chambers, as you hand invited your older sister, Helaena, to have a chat. You have always try and take care of Helaena, even when she is the older one, you hold a strong contentment to make sure she is alright, especially knowing her hardened path with that of your older brother, the King himself.

“Do you have a name for this one, sweet Prince?” You tenderly asked Jaehaerys, taking one of the dragons on the soft fur carpet up ahead of his line of sight, “Sunwyre!” Jaehaerys exclaimed excitedly, making you throw your head back and laugh softly, his mispronunciation have always warmed your heart, the innocent nature of children, their pure conscience, not yet tainted by royally duties, nor know the taste of power, their world filled with imaginary tales, and make-do creatures.

“Your father’s dragon hm? and what about… this one?” You hold another dragon figure now, a bigger one than the last, this one has the color of dark green, oddly reminding you of a certain someone’s dragon. Ah. “Vhagaw!” it was Jaehaera’s turn to answer, a shy quiet little girl just like you once were, but bright and intelligent nonetheless. Your lips curled into a warm smile, eyes crinkling at the adoration of your niece and nephew. You had hopes for them, even through this impossible times, that they uphold the values of their mother, Helaena, more than they do that of your older brother, Aegon.

“Vhagar? uncle Aemond’s dr—“

“Hm, the most powerful one, isn’t that right, Jaehaera?”

Your head snapped backwards as you heard his velvety voice, gulping quickly at the moment you caught sight of his figure, standing tall, leaning against the entryway of your chambers, head tilted, eyes darted to you, and lips stretched in a knowing grin.

“Aemond…”

It has been awhile since you saw him last, having been too angry to bid him farewell when he went on his way to propose a marriage deal between he and one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters. He sought you out for hours leading up to his leave and the days afterwards, yet you always manage to elude him, breaking your regular routine of breaking your fast with him, and retreating to your chambers at the earliest convenience, even strictly telling the guards stationed at your door to never let anyone in, even the Prince himself, not that they can say much if he insisted, but you know if he heard of your hardened resentment, he would never push you. No, not his little sweet sister, the delight of his days, the beacon of his visions, the only decadent part left from his viscous life.

You had spent your days crying inside your chambers, for you know it was selfish of you to be mad at him for doing his duty, but the pain had eaten its way through your heart, gnawing ever so brazenly through your sanity. You had refused to talk to your mother, only limiting few chosen ladies of your maids to be of assistance to you— once telling Alicent that you have no desire with entangling yourself in her business to Aegon’s crowning.

You see, Aemond and you were always inseparable, from the day you were born, he had been so infatuated by the small babe cradled by his mother, someone other than Helaena that he saw his mother doted on, he admitted that he was jealous of the treatment both you and Daeron received, something he never felt from his own mother, but alas your soft velvet nature is incredibly difficult to resist, not by his mother and well, certainly not him. A pretty little thing you are. Always so gentle, docile, never fuss much even as an infant. He would always play with your babbling lips when you talked about your lessons, or how you have dreamed on claiming a dragon of your own.

Your silver locks of hair as the curtain to your beautiful supple face, eyes alike his— lilac with tinges softer, your pink dewy lips… oh the stuff of dreams to him, curve of your neck which usually adorned by the various jewels your mother sought out for you, your enticing figure— growing into a grown Princess that bewitched him beyond belief. You are the epitome of everything he was not and never will be, an angelic dew scented nymph, to his raging soulless dragon.

Growing up with you alongside him was what made his life bearable, even through all the bullying he has suffered by the hands of his own brother, and nephews as well as the petulant ignorance of both of your parents, you made it all somehow possible. You would tend to him, fill his days with the stories and knowledge you have learnt from your Septa, blabbering about the story of the Conquerer’s war in the Dornish region, and fluttering his heart when you speak of your pious upbringing, obviously influenced by his mother.

It was you who cleaned his wounds when Aegon had pushed him too far, it was you who always listened to his heart’s content— during his darkest depleted epoch, it was you who wiped his tears after he was presented with a pig by his brother and nephew, sweet you— who have claimed yourself a dragon, one gentle hatchling when an egg was placed on your cradle. He was wary then, that you too, would cast him away, make him feel small— but alas he had judged you too quickly, for you never do any of his blackest imaginations, instead you would warm him up to your little dragon, a gesture which granted him confidence to later tame the beast herself, Vhagar.

But he had left you. For some other Baratheon girl. He left you to crawl into your hole of despair and insecurities. Damning yourself on what had you done for fate to be so cruel to you. What had you done for the Gods to banish his hands away from your own.

“Sister…”

His tone had been gentle, you looked away as you could not even peer into his eyes for you know he would be able to see the looming tears on your gentle violet eyes, one he had seen in his dreams each night since his return back to the Keep.

“Here, Jaehaerys, how about you play with Sunfyre, hm?” Your voice was shaky, eyes fleeting everywhere but at him, you are desperate to run away, anywhere but here, “Jaehaera, come, accompany your brother with Vhagar, yes?”

“Yes, auntie.”

“Good girl, Jaehaera, my sweet princess.” You kissed her temple lovingly, feeling saddened that you had to pry away from your niece and nephew so soon, but you had to go away, “Helaena, I must go, I shall catch you later during supper, yes?” Your eyes met that of your older sister’s distant ones, who just hummed, as she continued to draw some sketches on her brown paper. You were always grateful for her inquisitive mind, now more-so. Pecking a small kiss to her temple before standing up.

“Little one wait—“ You felt his hands graze the peeking flesh underneath the slit of your gown, the touch was— exhilarating, igniting that dragon fire inside of you once more, yet you paid it no mind, not now, you thought. Heels walking past him, making a beeline towards your reading chamber, the only place where you can escape.

Sighing softly, your eyes shut tight, the memory of his voice, his touch, his look, and even the feeling of his breath so close yet so far away, it makes you shudder. Gods, you think. Even after leaving you astray for days, he still leaves such an imprint on you, as if he had claimed you from inside out, and you have naught but a small grasp on your will to deny him.

You moved aside, setting yourself beside the door as you slowly drop to your knees, head thrown back against the wall— heart beating way too quick for your own comfort, what in the Seven hells—

“I thought I’d find you here…” You jumped slightly at the sound of your chamber doors opening as well as the sound of his voice again, of course he’d find you here, you thought, he was the one that had begged your mother to designated this place to become your safe haven in the first place, he always found your love for Old Valyrian literature to be as magnificent as you are, and had wished to accommodate you with all there is to know— a tutor, the ancient tomes, and the room itself.

“I do not wish to see you.” You stilled your gaze to the balcony far ahead of you, distracting yourself from his overwhelming presence— his voice, his tall lean figure, his musky smell that strongly resembles home for you, and his oh so devoted attention. “You do not mean that…” There’s a pang of guilt when you heard the softness of his voice, yet you ought to scoff and bit your lip instead.

“You know nothing of my wants or desires, brother.” You cringed at the shakiness of your own tone, scolding yourself at your constant reverie of him, making you lost inside your own thoughts, with tongue too numb, and throat too tight, “Why don’t you fly back to your Baratheon girl on Storms End? you ought to be excited to wed her, are you not?” Venom laced your voice, nails digging onto the soft lilac ensemble you had worn today. He chuckled.

How dare he.

“Little one…” He trailed, crouching down beside you, his thumb and index finger reach out to grip your chin softly yet demandingly all the same, you struggled against him, “Ah ah, do not fuss now.”

“Let me go.”

“Look at me, sweet girl, please?”

Sometimes you wish that the Seven could just curse your brother out for a bit, so that you do not have to be subjected to your own weak will against his own domineering charm, you looked up at him albeit reluctantly, oh how have you torn him to pieces with that look alone.

Your eyes are glistened with unshed tears, lips flushed and slightly pouty just as you used to do when you were a child— begging him to stop studying history and to play with you instead, Aemond does not know how does one capable to hold his life in the gentle crook of their palm, but here you are… his precious little sister, the core of his being.

“There you are, pretty princess..” He gently trace his knuckles across your cheek, then down your jaw, neck, and move to tuck strands of your silver locks behind your ears, softly caressing your hair, “What is it that makes you so restless, hm?” You scoffed at his pathetic attempt to sound dumb to your dilemma, knowing he is far too smart to not know.

“You left me, lēkia.” Brother. Your eyes darted away again before he tuts and tugs at your chin once more, “You know I only do what is asked of me, gevī, to help Aegon secure his throne…” Beautiful.

“Yet, you could not have proposed a better deal?” Your gaze sharpened at him, heart tugging tight at your ribcage, suddenly remembering his promise to you when you were once only seven, and then again during every single one of your name day.

I will never leave you, dōnus ñuhys, you are destined to be my queen, for all the Seven can never deny us.

“Tis’ my duty, sweetling, you know I—“ You rolled your eyes at that, tugging your chin free from his hold but remain your gaze at his own, “So it seems that you have chosen your duty over me then, brother, I should have known I was never more than a vessel to fill your desires with.”

“Left you for a few days, and you run your tongue as you please hm?” You shivered, flush heat spreading through your skin, down to the apex of your thigh, Gods, “Do you deny it, Aemond?” You gulped down your nerves, eyes finding his lips tilted in amusement, his little endeavor has left his sweet girl went feral, it seems.

“A vessel for my desires, you say… little one, how can you be just that when you have me wrapped around your little fingers—“ You were about to retort back, “Ah ah, let me speak.” He grabbed your fingers in his, tilting his head like how he did when you were kids. “All of this, I do for you, as to keep you safe, if that takes me to wed some girl to put you on the throne as My Queen, then tis’ a sacrifice worth my lifetime.”

“How come you do this for me if we shall never be together?” A tear fell from your eyes at last, unable to form other ways to express your distress, “If it is the throne that takes you away from me, I never want it.” You averted your gaze for you know that your brother has always desired Aegon’s throne even before it was bestowed upon the eldest, and he will do whatever it takes go get it as it was his birthright.

“Pretty girl with such pure wishes, you are.” He mused, both hands come up to cusp your jaw, directing your eyes back at him, clicking his tongue, “I will not let you get any less than what you deserve, the realm at our feet with you by my side.” For sure you could never conclude which is sharper, his stare that makes your spine tingle, or his words— full of high promises, one that is dangerous to talk aloud, one that would grant him a harsh slap on the cheek from Mother, one that can cost him his tongue.

“But… Aeg—“

“Do not let that worry your pretty head, little one, just trust me like you always have hm?” His promises were too sweet to resist, the temptation to breach what is beyond the comprehension of your family is too ripe for the taking, you are sure that if either your grandsire or mother have heard of this, you both will never set foot in King’s Landing again, but alas your childhood fairytale always clung to him, his words are inescapable… and well, if he will be damned as the consequences, then you may as well join him, for the world is a dull one without his devotion.

You crack out a tiny smile, one he always cherishes, once it was the center of his boyish infatuation, then it became the only thing other than Vhagar rumble or the promise of the cold hilt of Blackfyre that enlighten his youth, then it became his end goal, your smile— your beautiful oh so sweet saccharine smile. Fuck.

“You know I will always tru—mm!”

The declaration has yet to leave your lips, barely through your tongue when suddenly his breathing fawns over your cupid’s bow, the feeling was exhilarating, his lips—warm lips engulfing your own, gentle at first, like how he had kiss you once, twice, thrice when you were younger— the last one being the night before your sire had died, a day before he set out his proposal to the Baratheons, oh how you’ve missed this— him.

His palm hold a strong grip on the side of your neck, making you gasp and bringing you back slightly down to earth, you didn’t even realize you were floating in the bliss this whole time, “Aem—“ Your sweet voice, he thinks, so soft whimpering his name that the sound is enough to make his breech tighten. Aemond cuts you off by kissing you harder this time, tongue prodding against your lips so you may grant him an entrance to your wet cavern.

When you showed a little resistance through your teasing giggle he bit the bottom of your lip— now red and raw from his ministrations, you mewl deliciously, as he takes his chance to slip his tongue inside, oh, you think, the pressure is so immense, the swirl of his tongue tangling with your own overwhelms you. Aemond explores every inch of you, his thumb grazing at the pulse point on your neck, making you shudder and slightly arch your back to reach out for him, before he parted you both.

“Uh what—“

“Stand up, Princess.” He commanded, holding his hand out to help you up, you tried to stand as steady as you could but there is no mistaking the way your knees wobbled ever so slightly— damn him for making you so weak, Gods.

He spared you no time to muddle with your thoughts before pressing you to the wall beside the door, you whimpered at the sudden force, but he is careful on placing his palm behind your neck to protect your delicate head from the intrusion with the wall. “Aemond, what are we doing?” You asked, eyes glimmering with adoration, admiration, love, lust, fear, anticipation, and everything in between.

He smiled at you, scorching hot sent right to the core on the apex of your thighs, his eye flutter shut before pressing his forehead against yours, his nose also nudged into your own, lips flushed against your quivering one, “What we should have done a long time ago, sweetling.” Aemond moved his fingers to graze against the column of your neck, “Making you mine, in every sense there is, wholly.”

You trembled at that, if it weren’t for his strong grip on your hips and neck, your knees would have buckled and fell then on, you take a deep breath— closing your eyes before entangling your hands around his neck, pressing your lips back to his awaiting red, now tongue and teeth battling in the midst of pure pleasure, hot white whines, and mewls escaped your throat.

Aemond’s arms slipped from his grip on both your neck and hips, crouching down slightly— lips still interlocking with yours ferociously, he hooked them up under the back of your knee before pulling you towards his hips, you moaned through his lips, “Ah!” Wrapping your legs around his back, he effortlessly carry you to the nearby table— places you on top of it, one that so conveniently sat beside the oh so grand window overlooking the surrounding area of smallfolks outside the Keep.

“I have waited years to do this, riñītsos.” He grunts against your lips, you claw at his neck seeking him closer and closer to you, for any space between you felt like a void of infinity— fearing that it, too, will take him away from you again, “to devour you as I please…” He trailed, lips canvassing your skin with heated marks, first the corner of your lips, then to your jaw— oh and your most sensitive part, on the column of your neck. You shivered and let out a wanton whine. Little girl.

“To take you as I want to…” His teeth graze against your pulse as you arch your back, eyes sewn shut, pretty girlish pink lips parted with melodic whimpers escaping them, your skin heated— hands grabby for him, “To make you mine, my little petal.” You gasped as he bites down at the exposed skin, “Aemond!” Your cunt is surely drenching your smallclothes by now, but you spared it no thoughts, for you are too meddled in your blissful paradise.

“When the time comes,” After making his mark, albeit the color is a gentler one than he’d hoped, he grazes his fingers along the silk of your white dress, right atop of where the fabric seal the supple flesh of your breasts, the delectable bud that begs to be caressed, sucked, and worshipped, “Will you let me, hāedar?” His eye glinted at you, so gentle yet ravenous all the same, “Kessa, lēkia.” Yes, brother.

He passionately grunted, pressing his forehead against yours as his nimble fingers unlaced the intricate details of your dress, you are glad that you wore a rather relaxing dress today, for it is not so hard for him to loosen the laces and let it gently fall from your body— the silk pooling at your thigh against the desk, “Gevī.” He muttered as his eyes scanned through your ever so soft skin, from the way your neck is slightly arched backwards from your heavy breathing, your exposed collarbone, to the oh so mouthwatering swell of your breasts. He can feel his breeches tightening to the point of painful tugs, not that he cares much. Beautiful.

“Kostilus, Aemond…” You whimpered when his lips ghosted over your collarbone, “Ah ah, quiet, Princess.” His deep amber voice rattles your spine like no other, “Let me taste you.” He whispered, fingers moving to tug a gentle grip at the reddened and darkened bud on your breasts, “Mmnh!” You moaned delicately, arching your back with your palm flat against the desk behind you, your figure enticing and inviting him even closer. Please.

You bit your lips hard— harder than you should when Aemond engulfed the blood filled buds up to his lips, he goes gentle at first, suckling like small babe would but then he grows ferocious— “Gods!” You yelped as he bit at the hardened flesh, causing you to shiver once more, bucking your hips to try and assuage the building pressure at your cunt, now wet and weeping to be filled. Him… by him.

Aemond did not dare stopping his ministrations, one hand tugging on the other one as he continues to suckle on your nipples greedily, your nails dug through the hard material of the desk but you have naught care to it, for your brother is keeping your nerve ends alive— lit with fire and blood.

“Your purity has always been mine to corrupt, little one…” He trails as he moved to crouch down, his lips also trailing a soft kisses path down your tummy, to your navel before tugging at your dress a tad bit forcefully, as it fell to the floor below, he makes a quick move to release you of your smallclothes, wasting no time to stare intensely at your now exposed fluttery soaked cunt, “My my, Princess… look at you…” He groaned, making you mewl.

“S-stop looking at… me like that.” Your hand moved downward in a shy attempt at covering your now exposed flushed mound, which he clicked his tongue at— as if he is scolding you, and grip your wrist tightly, “You will not deprive me of seeing what is mine, sweetling…” He keeps a hold of your wrist, as you wiggle about, “Your cunt is mine, to taste, fuck…”

“Aemond…” You can no longer hold the wanton sounds originating from your bewildered state, body so flushed with heat and desire that your mind has reduced to blank fuzzy space of just him, him, him.

“Mine to own.” His other thumb move closer to your heat before pressing it softly against the throbbing bud that is your pearl, “I— ah! w-what…” Mix of confusion, thrilling pleasure, and indescribable rush flows through you when you feel the blissful pain from his fingers that had pinched your pearl, you desperately try to keep your moans and tears at bay, however, that proves to be fruitless when Aemond decided to replace his fingers with his mouth. You were done for.

“Slow down! mmnh!” You writhe in his hold, feeling his tongue slide from the fluttering of the silky entrance of your cunt and drags your sweet nectar up against your pearl, the bud thrumming in attention, relishing in the licks and suckle of his sinful lips, “Seven hells, riñītsos…” He let out an sadistic chuckle against your dripping petal, making you shudder, “You open up so beautifully… for me, tastes better than any Westerosi wine.” You clench tightly on nothing, he hummed at the sight. Little girl.

“Please please!” You begged, your body folding, grasping his silky locks on your hand, Aemond looks up at you with so much vigor as he continue working his tongue and lips on your cunt, the constant ah-ah-ah leaves your mouth, filling his ears. Aemond pushes a finger past your flushed opening, “Relax, sweetling, let me in.” He said with faux gentleness.

“I—oh!” Your peachy lips drops and your tongue lolls out at the intrusion of his index finger, curling it up as he inches in, your cunt is tight, tighter than anything— and you are not just any maiden, he thought, you are his sweet little maiden of a sister, “Syz riña.” He hummed against your nub, continuing his earlier work of suckling on your pearl as his finger eases in and out of you. Good girl.

You can only gasp and let out strings of mewls at the feeling, it’s so good, you think, so so so good— it feels better than being intoxicated in goblets of wine, it feels better than any gifts you have ever been given as a Princess of the realm, it feels better because it is given by Aemond, you concluded.

Your lips curled in pleasurable tandem, feeling your cunt clench like blooming flower around him, his lips leave you no choice but to submit to both him, and your upcoming peak. There is a strange yet powerful tugging at the base of your tummy, something about to snap— “Aemond.. I.. Gods, I think—“ You mewled desperately.

He looked up to you then, smiled and chuckled deeply, “Tis’ okay, little one, peak for me.” He urged you, mouth suckling around your peal, biting at the nub almost mockingly, combining with how the tip of his finger right on the spongy part inside you, curling them with purposeful jabs— your only response is a high pitched scream of his name followed by strings of girlish pet-like mewls as your cunt gush around his fingers.

“Good girl, my good Princess.” Aemond cooed, his tongue greedily lapping up the sweet saccharine nectar from the now fluttering oversensitive tightness of your cunt, “Mmh.. c-can’t..” You wiggle from his hold, shaking your head as your body shake with the aftershocks of your heightened pleasures— the feeling is akin to that of when you rode your dragon, Valyx, the majestic red winged creature that bonded with you.

“Shh, I know, too much hm?” Aemond hummed, releasing his finger out of you as your opening winked at him— what a petal of a slut you are, made just for him, pure and ever so decadent—“What did.. what happened, Aemond?” Oh you looked at him so so softly, demure and skittish, shy. Just like a kitten would. He suppressed the way his cock is begging for release just at the sight of your corrupted flushed face, and shivering body.

“You peaked, sweetling.” His voice deepened considerably, as does his lilac eyes, “Peaked? oh… like..” Your hands went to cover your face as you heated up, only for him to click his tongue and grip your wrist tightly, “Ah-ah, no need to be shy, little one. It felt good, didn’t it?”

“Yes but—“

“But no, Princess, from now on you should expect to feel like that from me, understand?” His voice is soft, although strained by lust and his desire to just fuck you then and there, he had to wait though, anything to make you feel more at ease with your body and the pleasure he brings to you. His innocent little sister.

“I suppose that’s okay…” You whispered timidly, which causes his heart to flutter, Gods, he will give you the fucking moon and rebuild Old Valyria from its ashes if it so pleases you, “Did you— did you do that to Floris too?” You asked, eyes are darted to anywhere but him.

He sighed, “Poppet, what are you talking about hm?” You shrugged, oh his sweet angel, always such a possessive little thing you are, knowing what you want yet restricted by your gentle nature, “I have not and shall never give that to anyone but you, my sweet, t’was a deal I myself never planned on following through.” He said, looking up at you— his eyes glinted with nothing but honesty and love for you, you’d know because of the numerous time he had lied on not being in pain after the torment he had suffered at the hands of your own brother and nephews.

“But what about Aegon, and mother?” You whispered, now looking at him, “Won’t they be furious if they knew? wouldn’t it be… treason?” The word leave an acid feeling on your tongue, it feels like you’re accusing him, Aemond knows you better than anyone else though, he knows you mean no foul— it showed you care for him.

“They can voice out their complaints to me when I am King, little one, it matters not.” Your wyes widened at his implication, excitement and thrill oddly runs through your blood at his declaration, Gods, you have no more care for formalities or ideals, not when he is here— not when this is what you can have.

“Brother…” Both of your palms come up to cusp his face, your finger gently peel the eye patch he wears— the movement has his eye fluttering, yet he bears no resentment to your action, only affection, “I want you, take me as you wish.” You are many things, hesitant in your steps— that innocence shines through most of the time, but none came when you said that, only truth and love. Solely devout to him.

Something animalistic flashes through the glint of his eyes, something feral, so driven by passionate affection, devotion, and lust—eternally for you, “As my Princess’s wish.” He muttered before standing up fully to his height, making you crane your head up to look at him. You watched as he tugs his coat and sleeves off, your eyes danced on his pale skin— his sapphire that taunts you with promise of unnerving fealty, and overwhelming dominance.

Exposing his upper body to you, your finger trail a feather light touches to his skin, a tad of your innocence apparent in the way you felt him yet you’re also teasing him with how you press on certain spots, in which he only smiled and chuckled at you—his wanton little slut wrapped in a saint goddess bodice of a Princess— admiring the way his muscles tense, the way his masculine musk penetrated your senses— so his, so so his.

Aemond then tugs his breech loose, letting it drop to the stone floor below— there he is, permeated by the sun shining through the slit of window, all in his naked glory— so enticing, your mouth waters as you gazed him fully— mouth agape, a loud gasp slipped from your mouth as your eyes focuses on the throbbing length of his cock, oh you almost cooed, he is hard—length so full with blood and tension, it looked like it was going to burst, the veins protruding on his shaft, darkened and angry, his tip is flushed a reddish color— thick and inviting, with the opening dripping with his arousal— oh how you would so easily taste him.

Your fingers swiftly went down to grasp his length, thumb about to swipe away the spend on his tip before he holds your wrist—you looked up at him like a child would, he was vastly reminded of a face you’d make as a little girl when he had taken away your lemon cakes just for fun— oh your pouty raw and bitten lips, your puffed out cheeks, your eyes that radiates want want want, silently begging him, Gods, you’d be the death of him.

“Aem—“ You whined like a spoiled little brat you are, oh he’d have so much fun taming the living soul out of you, later though, he thought, “You will get your taste later, little one—“

“But!” You and your stubbornness, he thought, oh but he’ll relinquish in the joy and thrill to break you fully— mould you just for him, “Ah ah no, behave, sweetling. Pouty mannered little girls will not get anything other than denied of their peaks, you do not wish for that, do you? hm?” Your spine shivered at the tone he used, so mocking, making you so small, especially with his fingers on your wrist and the other on your chin— scolding a child—yet the only sound that escaped your pouty lips are soft desperate mewl and whine.

You are so fucking sweet, he was ready to come then and there.

“N-no Aemond… I will be good for you.” You whispered, eyes glassy, lips trembling, he breathes heavily, “Oh sweet dove, shh you will get what you want.” He hummed, moving his fingers to gently run through your luscious silver hair, lips leaving an oh so sweet peck to the crown of your head.

When you nod to his words, he leaned in to kiss you ferociously, his palm move to your hips, bringing you to the edge of the desk as your tongue dances in a fiery battle— well less of a battle when you consider that he dominates you— “Uh!” You moaned as his thick shaft touches the soft pulsing wet folds of your cunt, you’re incredibly soaking the table beneath you by now.

Aemond groaned at the way your cunt is opening up to him, fluttering around the very top of his tip as if inviting— daring him to just slide in, though he restrains himself because this is your first time, he will go gentle, there’re plenty of times to break you later, he mused. “Syz, riñītsos.” Aemond purred deeply, “Ready?” He sweetly gaze down at you and your quivering form, pressing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. Good, little girl.

“Mhm.” You nodded, voice naught but a small whimper, one of Aemond’s palm reach down to grasp yours in his, intertwining your fingers to his— his other hand grip the base of his throbbing length—You let out a loud gasp as you feel him breaching your wet entrance with a swift motion, the tip is in and you cried.

“I-it hurts…” Tears dropped down from your eyes, “Shh, doing so well for me, sweetling.” Aemond cooed gently at you, holding him back from indulging in the feeling of your unimaginably tight tight tight warm wet flowery cunt grasping the tip of his cock— Gods has to reward him for his resilience for he can wait little longed than to come right then and there, you’re intoxicating, too sweet for him and way too fucking tight.

The Prince kissed your lips gently, lovingly as if to ground both you and him, the softness of his lips bringing you back to earth slightly— but mayhaps it was to distract you for what comes next, you wailed loudly as he pushed in more of his length, your cheeks now drenched with tears, chest heaving, and cunt clenching around him ever so torturously, both of your fluids mixing below you, feeling the wetness help him to push in yet more inches, filling you to the brim.

“Full Aem… so full, too big…” You truly ought to send him to an early grave, he thought, “You can take it, my sweet girl taking her brother’s cock like the perfect girl she is.” Aemond cooed against your ear, the praises consuming you whole, the pain from your core gradually subsides as you feel him waiting— you heart warmed at the gesture— he’s waiting for you to be comfortable.

“Please… please continue.” You whimpered, craning your head backwards as he pressed his thumb against your swollen pearl to relieve the pain, “I-ah! fuck me, Aemond.” Your comment might’ve been brazen but he doesn’t miss the way your body shivered at your eyes drooped, lips curled just as you did whenever you revert back to your girlish demure self. Oh his sweet little girl, being brave just for him, his little dragon.

He shushes you all at once, both palms on the either side of your hips as he slowly experimenting by moving his hips backward so that only half of his length is inside of your tight haven, before thrusting back in, deep deep deeply, you both moaned loudly at that, the feeling of his cock in and out, in and out, in and out of you is heightened— you can feel his veins against your walls, clenching tightly— holding him in a vice grip.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Aemond grunted, his hips faltering a bit but keeping a nice steady pace as you mewl, cunt gushing his cock with the pain now dulled and replaced by pure white pleasure, you swear you can feel your ear rings, “Perfect little cunt for a perfect little girl.”

“For you! ah!” The plethora of moans and whiny gasps that left your lips has his head spinning, “Gods made you for me, to be mine.” He possessively growled, increasing the pace of his thrusts as he leaned down to capture the sensitive part of your skin just below your ear and leave a reddish purplish mark.

You can do naught but to take the way he thrusts thrusts thrusts in and out of you, his curved tip always hitting that spongy spot inside you, making you dizzy and drunk— cockdrunk and dumb on him, your lips agape as he continue to nibble marks on your skin, you could care less on how you will conceal that later, too wrapped up in bliss of his grunts and the feeling of his cock inside of you.

“One day you will bear me an—fuck! heir, you hear me little girl?” His thrusts are borderline mean now, hips rutting inside you as if you’re his drug and he cannot deprive himself from your sweet intoxicating cunt, “Yes! Gods yes! as many as you want.”

The sound of the skin slapping inside the room will for sure frighten anyone, especially guards outside the door, but you had hoped that mayhaps someone from the council might able to hear, so that they know Aemond is irrevocably yours— and so that they know you will bear his babes, heirs— none of that arranged marriages for political gains, just you and him, thrumming with the strong bond of Old Valyria, the dragon’s blood danced and merged.

Aemond pulled away from your neck as he looked at you with eye full of love love love, lust lust lust, and adoration, like he would worship the ground you walked upon, and even you knew he would if you asked. At one of your loud mewl, he bring his thumb to rub harsh circles on your pearl making you grip him as you soak him and your thighs even more.

“Mmh Aemond…”

“I know, close aren’t you, Princess?” He taunts you, all the while you do not have the strength anymore to care, for you are so so so close to reaching your peak, utterly desperate for it, “Uh huh, please please please.” Oh you sweet sweet dove, begging him like that, how can he ever refuse you? his beautiful little sister? he might be mean but not so mean to deny you of your peak.

“Shh, little one, I know what you need, you trust me don’t you?” His tone is sickly sweet, mocking and genuine at the same time— your mind having been too fuzzy to comprehend it only let out a muffled whimper, “Mmhm..” He laughed at that, finding you so unbearably cute, just his little dragon wanting to come so bad, it makes him wanna fuck his seed into you more.

“C’mon my sweet, i know you can do it.” He urged you, all of it— the hot breath against your skin, the nibbling, the way he circled your pearl so sinfully, the way his cock impaled you open— all of it is just too much, addictive. “Peak for me like the good little whore you are, hm?” His voice is rough, hips faltering in his pace— obviously holding himself back from releasing into your womb.

“Nnmh, not a- not a whore.” You hiccuped in a high pitch, oh his sweet little girl, he chuckled at you— looking at your pathetic teary eye, cheeks drained— as drained as your cunt is soaking his length, “My little princess, the purest of maidens, the finest of whores, mine, nobody else’s.”

“I- ah ah ah! Aemond!” You clenched your cunt so tight around him as something snap inside of you, the dam broke and once more you can feel yourself hitting that plethora of pleasures— brain fuzzy, only Aemond, only him him him. You peaked— body trashing, and flushed all over for you are unable to control the movement of your limbs and muscles anymore— too drunk on his cock.

“Good girl, shit, my good fucking girl.” Aemond cooed but the harshness of his voice indicates that he, too, is close, “Gonna come too now hm? want that little one? my seed inside you?”

“Yes yes yes, uh huh, give it to me please.” You begged him so sweetly, how can he refuse? after all you’re his little sister, his Princess, he never gave you less than what you deserve, even that one time when you asked to take the remaining berry tart that he wanted so bad yet he let you have it, or that one time you begged him to show you the tunnels inside the paintings, the one that holds Balerion’s skull knowing he’d have to evade Ser Cole, or that last time you asked him to kiss you before he went to Storms-end, anything for you. Everything for his Queen.

“Fuck! Gods you’re perfect, going to make you my fucking wife, I swear it.” He possessively muttered, or more like babbling now— too obsessed with the way you hug him so tight like he’d disappear, or the way your cunt clutch him in a come come come motion. “Give it t’me.” You pleaded, voice so soft it makes his head heady— He simply can’t resist you, “Seven fucking hells.”

Aemond shuddered as he released his spend inside of you, the tip of his cock right against the opening of your cervix, enough to make itself known but not enough to hurt you, never to hurt you, not when it does not bring you pleasure. “Thank you thank you thank you…” Your voice is barely a whimper now, your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth parted with your lips lolling out. Sight to behold indeed.

“Shh good girl, my good little girl.” He hummed against you, looking at you with adoration as he slides out slowly— you whined at the loss, already accustomed to being stretched by him, he shushes you one more time as he hold you— seems like you’re a bit gone inside your fuzzy little head.

“My little dragon, so good for me, hm?” He cooed at you, one hand holding you close to him, as his other palm cups your cheek, rocking you slightly, “Come back to me, little one, c’mon, I’m right here.” He whispered, grounding you back down as you hiccuped slowly.

“Aem…” Your voice is barely there but its there, it’s you, and Aemond smiled knowing you are alright, “Here, Princess, did so good f’r me.” He kisses all over your face, making soft pecking noises that has you giggling softly and make an attempt on nudging him away, “Stop.” You whined adorably like a little cat, which he laughed at, “There’s my girl.”

By the way you smiled and blinked at him, he just know that he would give you all 7 realms if you asked, make you his Queen, and demolish all your enemies, so that you shall rule with him— as it always meant to be. The dragons that lived through the dance.

#deva writes #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fic #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #smut #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfic #unbeta'd #gevī

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baehaar · 2 years ago

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#sooo the main reason I haven’t been around is bec my life is low-key in shambles #like to the point where ** * **** ** **** **** *** ** ** *****#but also because I kind of fell down the darklina rabbit hole again #not in a good way lmao s2 of that show was insanely bad but it did serve to rekindle my love for the ship #and I’ve only really talked about stevetony on here bec my other blog was more general but I don’t rlly wanna log in there rn #but I’ve been lurking on darklina twt #oh my god what a mess but also some rlly cool things as well #and maybe it’s bec I’ve only ever lurked in both spaces but makes me sad there’s no overlap that I’ve seen in the st/darklina fandom #and I’m still to awkward to actually use twt or talk to anyone even on here #but yeah fandom wise that’s where I’ve been #BUT I saw something on twt today that just made my heart do a thing #I miss stevetony sm omg my babies how could forsake my true loves #and in that vein I might start using this acc more regularly or as much as I can manage ig #but yeah like I even went back to read what little I wrote for that one fic I had planned #it’s cute #might actually give it a go #personal

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jaylver · 6 months ago

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THE FIVE YEAR DEAL — P.JS

synopsis: having to deal with a four year long situationship was hard enough in the first place, but when your favourite situationship texted you on a random night after a year of no contact, it was a much harder scenario than imagined. what happens when he brings up that old pact you made about getting married in 5 years and you start rekindling a relationship that was lost?

pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader

genre: ex-situationship to friends to lovers, second chance romance, angst, romance, pining

warning(s): profanities, drinking and partying, slight violence

wc: 6.5k

a/n: after a month of not posting, here's a very very belated jay fic that was meant to be for his birthday (scream). please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

Park Jong Seong was your roman empire. There, you actually said it.

He was a thought that constantly hovered in your mind from time to time. Whether he was a ghost that lingered to haunt you or a sweet thought that remained, you couldn't tell. All you knew was that he had changed your life for the better and the worst.

A lesson you'd often tell others is to never get yourself involved in a situationship, worse if it's with your best friend. Unfortunately, you were speaking from experience which involved Jay, your ex situationship slash best friend. Look how you and him eventually turned out.

An almost four year long situationship with Jay that took an absolute toll on you had ended the year before. You agreed on no contact with him after, trying to create a peaceful life without him out of your life, yet it was entirely impossible when you shared mutual friends that reminded you of your good times with him even though he wasn't around.

You hate to admit it, but losing a person who was your best friend cut deep into your gut and heart combined. It was, at least, for the better. That was something your friends told you that you gradually recited in your head. It wasn't very effective, however. You still thought about him, quite often actually. But you supposed that was the haunting and painful part of having a relationship with someone that was almost a lover but never became one.

It was the same exact night you were thinking about him when a text appeared on the homescreen of your phone. You stared at the notification for God knows how long, debating if your lack of sleep was finally catching up to you. The contact name was unmistakable, there it was, Jay's text. Jay, your Jay?

The strength you had trying to act casual, but in reality, you were dying internally. The hold that man has on you was unimaginable.

jjong: you up?

you: ?

jjong: did you delete my number?

If only he knew, he would've probably laughed. You never deleted his number, nor did you even change his contact name. His name constantly stuck out in the list of contacts, just like the memories of him in your head.

you: no, i didn't. what i meant was why are you texting me at 2 am?

jjong: i thought of something, something we said four years ago

you: okay …?

jjong: you said if we're both still single in five years, we should get married

you: you took that seriously?

jjong: should i not have?

you: dumbass, i was tipsy

jjong: you didn't say that when i brought it up after you were sober

you: it's stupid

jjong: it's not. come on, y/n, can we please start afresh? i miss you.

He missed you?

jjong: i'm serious. can we please meet up?

you: you swear you're not going to pull something?

jjong: no?? the most i'll do is pull out an engagement ring but who knows

you: cut the crap, jay

jjong: don't act like that didn't make you giggle even the slightest

jjong: meet me downtown. the usual place we go to :)

How could he act so nonchalant when bringing up the past? The usual place that you haven't been to after cutting contact with him was something he still recalled, but to you, it was a place you avoided up until now.

It was hard to sleep when your mind was filled with thoughts of him, except this time, instead of missing him, you dreaded him and the part where you're going to meet him for the first time in a year. What was he going to say?

The wish you wished upon the lone star that night was for Jay to finally set his feelings and emotions clear. But whether it will come true or not, the truth will soon befall on you.

The day you planned to meet Jay was a cloudy one. It was likely a foreshadow, but you chose to ignore the overthinking you constantly did.

You were the first one there in the cafe, specifically sitting at that table by the corner which you and Jay usually hogged. Being there early due to mostly the anxiety, you got to calm your nerves down and prepare yourself to face Jay.

It shouldn't be hard to meet someone you already knew, but why did it feel that way? The unspoken feelings and those that were left hanging, unaddressed, was what haunted the both of you. You supposed this meet up with him would hopefully change that the slightest bit. All you hoped for was that he didn't become a stranger to you.

You failed to realise his approaching figure as you were sitting with your back facing the entrance, it was your usual spot anyway. Not to mention, his footsteps were quiet as ever, a thing about him that was unchanging.

"Y/N," you heard his voice before meeting his eyes, watching as he slipped onto the chair opposite of you, the warm aura of his never failing to provide a sense of comfort for you. "Hey,"

The change of his hair colour grabbed your attention first. The silvery colour that the light bounced on suited him well. He always wanted to experiment with his hair, and you didn't expect him to really do it. Other than that, he had the same features, same smile, same warm colour tone eyes and skin. All in all, he was the Jay you knew, the one you loved.

"Jay," you spoke his name as if it was a foreign taste on your tongue. His irises flashed an unreadable spark at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. You fell into silence, not knowing how to start the conversation whereas he seemed rather speechless instead.

He shook himself out of it, a slight frown etched onto his lips. "Thanks for making time to see me. I know … you probably didn't want to, so I'm glad you came," his tone contradicted the way his texts sounded, the initial confidence was currently wavering.

"It's no problem," you shook your head softly, a secret hope you had kept shouting in your mind where he would fix everything.

"I didn't want to leave us at that, Y/N," his sudden confession surprised you, but it left your heart beating in both anticipation and anxiety. "The way we left things, it wasn't right. I wasn't right for doing the things I did,"

You knew what he was talking about, or at least the obvious one out of the bunch. That night at his place where you were tipsy and he was holding you in his arms, you accidentally let out the secret you've been holding in: you loved him. As expected, it obviously strained the relationship as he insisted on it being nothing serious. You were stupid for thinking he would've reciprocated it, but all he did was leave you stranded on the empty space of heartbreak alone.

"I'm sorry. I was an asshole, and I was an idiot for not realising how much you meant to me until you weren't there next to me. You carved a hole in my life and my heart was moulded for you," his gaze fell to the table, an audible draw of breath from him.

Jay glanced up to lock his eyes with yours again, the twitch of his hand that was holding itself back from reaching over to you. "I'm not a religious man, Y/N, but every night I prayed for God to lead me back to you," he swallowed thickly, "I know I fucked up, that's why we stopped … everything. I deserved it, but I really want to fix everything,"

You opened your mouth to speak just to close it after a passing second. He said exactly what you wished for him to say, but why was it so hard grasping everything before you? Was it the shock?

"I missed you, Jay," it was the truth, an angering truth that you held onto for ages. "I really did. I think about you a lot and the mistakes we made. I wish we could go back to the way we were. You're my best friend," you knew that word wasn't just what it was, it held something more than that. "And I just want you back,"

The softening of his gaze only exposed the vulnerability on your face. "Can we start again?" He said quietly, seemingly testing the waters. "As friends, and we'll go slow,"

"I'd like that," you nodded, never leaving his gaze. You didn't say it, neither did he, but you weren't putting away the chances of something more than just friends, an unspoken hope that you kept. Maybe this time, everything would turn out right.

Before you parted ways with Jay and left for home, you shared a simple conversation in front of the cafe. Just like old times, the conversation flowed naturally as if time didn't separated the two of you in the first place.

"Can I hug you?"

For the first time in many months, you felt the warmth and touch of Jay's that you missed. It was familiar, comforting, a band aid that covered the crack on your heart. This was the first step to heal that broken heart of yours. Closure. It was for the better.

The rest of your day was only filled with thoughts of him, till the point where it had you lying in bed, awake and turning, wondering about the fate of you and him. A second chance was about to make or break everything.

The next time you saw Jay again was at a party his frat brother held.

Ever since that day at the cafe, you didn't stop texting Jay. You realised at one point that you had fallen back into your old self once more. Giggling at his messages, anticipating his notifications, calling him at odd hours. All of which didn't go unnoticed by you, and you wondered if you should be horrified or nonchalant. Given that you and him were on better, speaking terms now, you brushed it off as nothing.

"Well, isn't it my favourite girl," Jay had his arms wide open the moment he approached you, that smile of his glowing from a distance away.

You smiled back, you always did anyway, letting him embrace you into his arms. "You smell like beer," you scrunch your nose up in distaste, pushing yourself off of him, but your arms around his shoulders remain.

"But I'm sober," he casted a wink at you, ignoring your eye roll as he took your arm from your shoulder and slid his fingers into your hand. "Come on, the guys are over there,"

To think about explaining this to the rest of your friends was going to be interesting to say the least. They already knew from your continuous text screaming for bloody help, but for them to witness it in person? You couldn't help but wish to cower into a corner out of embarrassment.

Heeseung was the first to raise a discreet eyebrow at you when you approached, hands intertwined with Jay, the same guy you swore you cut contacts with. That's a lie, apparently. Jake and Sunghoon seemed impassive, but you could tell from their several exchanges of glances, they thought the same as Heeseung did. However, both you and Jay were their friends, and no matter how messy it was, they were just the people stuck in between.

Jay eventually excused himself from the conversation to get more drinks for himself. You had a feeling he was about to be drunk by the end of the night no matter how he denied that. You knew his patterns through and through. Once he was out of ear shot, the boys turned to stare at you accusingly.

"Did you guys kiss?" Jake was the first to be blunt. The other two were eager to know the truth as well.

You practically jumped in your seat, as if a bullet had shot through your chest. In that way, his zero filtered question had that effect. "What? No! We agreed on being just friends,"

"For now," Heeseung chimed in.

"What?"

"You were literally holding hands with him,"

"It's platonic,"

"Considering your past with him, I think that's the last thing you can claim as platonic when it comes to Jay," Heeseung quipped back, making a valid point that you chose to ignore.

"Whatever. We're currently friends and we're not rushing into anything. We don't want to ruin it," you rubbed your arm uneasily, the thought of your past recurring saddened you.

"Then when are you going to actually get together?" Sunghoon asked, sounding rather exasperated as though he's the one in your position. At one point, you wished you could trade places.

"Ask him that," you leaned your head onto Jake's shoulder for emotional support, the question from Sunghoon was a second bullet to your heart. You had been the one sending signals from the start, but when it came to Jay reciprocating it, it was rather bleak.

"You're still hung over him? It never �� went away?" Heeseung leaned his body closer, increasingly immersed into the conversation deeper.

"How could it go away when I've always been in love with him?"

The words stuck to you throughout the night. The truth and reality of you loving a man that threw everything away was a burden you carried. The egging thought of wondering if Jay even reciprocated the feelings after a year crept into your head. He didn't reach out to reconnect for nothing, did he?

Just as you've guessed, Jay was truly drunk out of his mind by the time the party was ending. Your friends were trying their best to haul Jay into his apartment while you trailed behind, wishing you were more of help than this. Jay was eventually dumped onto his bed, slurring out random sentences that made zero sense to you.

"Do you need me to drop you back? I didn't drink," Heeseung turned to you first once all of you stepped out of Jay's room.

"I'll be fine. I didn't drink much, so I think I can drive myself back. I also want to stay a while more to make sure he's fine," you took a glance back at the open bedroom door, seeing Jay still awake and turning uncomfortably.

"Will you be okay? I mean, you just started talking again, I don't want you to be uncomfortable," Heeseung placed an assuring hand on your shoulder, concern filled eyes boring into yours. You hadn't even thought about this before, the emotions you had whenever with Jay.

You smiled at your friend. "It's Jay. I will never feel that way about him,"

Heeseung reciprocated your smile, seemingly more relieved. "I know."

Your friends soon left, the loud sounds of their drunken chatters faded into the night, leaving you in a deafening silence. A deep intake of breath was what helped you regain your confidence back to finally step into Jay's room, facing a dazed looking Jay who was sitting on the edge of his bed. He seemed a tad bit more sober from the multiple cups of water he had drunk.

"Are you alright?" You took a few steps forward, holding onto the doorframe.

He glanced up, the dim light provided by his desk lamp illuminated his face, the sharpness of his features contrasted the tears he had swimming in his eyes. It was unmistakable, but it weighed you down onto the ground, not knowing if you should be taking another step.

"Jay?" You called out cautiously, swallowing thickly. A quiet sob broke the short silence which followed, the glistening tears made their way down his cheeks. It was your first time seeing him as vulnerable as this.

You got to his side, knelt on the ground, trying to search for his gaze which persisted to run away from yours. He tried hiding his face behind his hands, but you were quick to stop him, holding onto them tightly. It was then he was forced to finally meet your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you heard his weak voice utter out, his hand that you held onto gripped yours. "I'm sorry," he whispered tearfully.

It was your first time witnessing him this broken, crying nonstop and leaving his emotions out on display. For the first time in ages, you couldn't properly read him like you've always done. Was it your fault for making him feel this way? Was there nothing but pain in this so-called relationship you and him shared?

"I miss you," it was a confession, a painful sounding confession that he's held onto for a long time, the look in his eyes told you he meant it, but there was something else that he had: grief. "I'm sorry,"

You didn't know how long it was that you stared at him for, the thoughts in your mind had been long gone, the shell of your body remained. His words and the emotions behind them were heavier than you anticipated, it hit you hard and rough. You sighed, lowering your head for a second. "You should get some sleep, Jay. It's late and you're buzzed. I'll talk to you in the morning,"

Jay was silent. You could tell there was a hint of disappointment from him that you wished you weren't the cause of it. You got up to your feet, staring at the top of his head as he fought to avoid your eyes. So be it. As you turned to leave, you felt a hand around your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

"Will you stay?"

You've heard this one too many times. Yet, you were always a victim to it. Unlike most times, you knew this was different, letting your heart guide you to him instead of your head. It might've been foolish, but you were willing to be a fool that was persistently in love just for him.

"I'll stay."

That night, you barely slept as he laid in your lap, sound asleep. Your fingers traced the sharpness of his features, smoothing over the softness of them. You wondered to yourself whether reconnecting was a good idea in the first place if this odd feeling of yours kept cutting deep into your heart every time you're with Jay.

You would never wish to leave him once more, but did he feel the same as you do? Or will he be the first to let you go again?

Maybe, just this once, you'd have to be the first to let go, even if it's a small step, it was something better than nothing.

With one last apologetic look at Jay, you closed his bedroom door and left his home with a heavier heart than usual. By the time morning comes, you hoped both yours and his memories from the night before would be a fever dream. Something so intimate and vulnerable, how were you to forget quickly? Even as you drifted off to sleep in your bed, you could still remember the tears on Jay's face, it being the last thing you remember before waking up to your doorbell ringing.

It was as if your thoughts had manifested Jay to show up at your doorstep. He wasn't a figment of your imagination, but actual flesh and bones. No matter how you rubbed your eyes trying to get yourself to be more awake, he wasn't disappearing away from view. He was real.

"Can we talk?"

Those three words immediately brought dread for you. Jay's face was impassive, but it was evident that he was tired, restless. You nodded, moving away to let him in. It was easy for you to let him in, whether it was your home or your heart, you've always kept a space for him.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about?" You stepped closer to him, seeing as he hadn't taken a seat and feeling something odd shift in the air.

"Us, Y/N, us," Jay breathed out, strained and hoarse, as if saying that word had pained him deeply. "I don't like this, I hate it. The 'us' that we are now,"

"What?"

"We can't keep continuing on like this. We can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not,"

It was too early for this, too early for you to be feeling burning internal rage. "Are you kidding? So what are you going to do? Leave me alone again? Go no contact with me again just because you don't want to face me again?"

"No!" Jay took a step closer to you, eyes blazing with equal fiery as yours. "I'm not ending things again, never. I can't lose you this time," his voice wavered, his hand reaching for yours and you let him hold your hand. Was that your first mistake? "I'm in love with you,"

You wished those words hadn't left his lips. For ages, you thought him confessing his true feelings would've fixed things, fixed you and him both, but at that moment, you realised it wasn't that easy, the cracks on your heart remained.

"I know when you look at me, you see everything that went wrong, but when I look at you, I see the person I'm in love with," every word pierced your heart deeper, the desperation in his voice was clear, a saddening tragedy was imminent.

"You don't get to do this," you whispered, backing away from him and freeing your hand from his hold. The hurt that flashed across his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you. "You don't get to tell me you're in love with me out of nowhere after we stop talking. It's not fair,"

"Am I … too late?" His voice was quiet, in the midst of the hurt was a pinch of hope.

"You're not," you didn't want to lie, you knew your feelings were the same and unchanged, but you just weren't ready to cave in and accept his feelings that fast. It wasn't fair. "Time. That's what we need to start afresh,"

Jay nodded, jaw clenched, face stoic. There was no denying that he was hurt, he didn't hide it anyway. "I'll make it right. I'll fix us."

Was it possible to mend everything?

Attending a party to get drunk was probably the worst idea you had in a while.

The thoughts of you and Jay haunted you like a sickening plague, the conversation you had with him was constantly eating you up from the inside. You were pushing him away, you knew so, you were becoming like him in some ways. How ironic it was.

That was why the moment Julie invited you to her boyfriend's house party, you knew you had to have some type of getaway, though it wasn't the most ideal. The only problem you didn't appreciate her not telling you earlier was the person you wanted to avoid most was standing with the rest of your friends in a corner playing pool.

"Look, I didn't know they were coming," Julie defended herself, leaning her body close to your side. "What's up with you and Jay anyway?"

"It's complicated,"

Julie sighed, shaking her head. "Of course it is, but how blind and dumb could you both be?"

"Hey!"

"It's obvious you like him and he likes you, why can't you guys just—I don't know—get together?"

"It's not that easy, I wish it was. I think we're both hurt, or I'm the coward this time. We … talked, he finally said he loves me, but I can't accept it just yet,"

"Why not?"

"I gave my heart to him, Julie. For years I willingly gave my heart to a man that constantly blocked me from his heart, which was why we ended things. Only then he realised his true feelings and right now he's asking for my heart back. I just don't think it's fair," your eyes dropped to the carpeted ground, gripping onto your plastic cup tightly.

"Then would you rather regret it?"

"Huh?"

"Would you regret after pushing him away and never becoming something you've always wished to be? Constantly think about the what-ifs? I know I'm not in the right to say anything since I'm not you, but the only thing I wish to say is to go with your heart," she placed a hand on your shoulder. "If your heart yearns for him, it'll always stay that way."

Why couldn't you stop your heart from yearning for Jay? It was as if Julie had read you like a book, even in those times where you and him stopped contacting one another, you never once forgot about him. It was true, your heart was yearning for him.

Meeting new people that were introduced by Julie and her boyfriend momentarily took your mind off Jay. Their friends were people you probably wouldn't meet again, so you didn't mind when you were left alone with one of them.

"You come by here often?" Juyeon, one of the guys, was by your side like a leech instead of being a good company. His presence was screaming red blaring signals to you.

"Not much," you chuckled awkwardly, wondering when Julie would return with the rest of her friends.

"Can I take you out some time?" Wow, he sure knew how to cut to the chase.

"What?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to come by to my place after this?"

Oh, this was your sign to run, wasn't it? "I—well, I have someone to meet—"

"Come on, give me a chance—" he grabbed onto your hand right before you could successfully leave, this was when you remind yourself never to get involved with frat boys.

"Sorry—" you didn't have the chance to finish your sentence when your hand was forcefully ripped away from his hold, another familiar feeling of someone's hand on yours instead. You turned just in time to see Jay standing beside you, visibly fuming.

"Leave her alone, man," he placed himself in front of you, shielding you away from Juyeon.

"Look, I'm just trying to invite her over. You know what, she's nothing special anyway—" the sound of Jay's fist clashing into Jueyon's jaw stopped him from continuing on. You were too shocked to comprehend everything happening before you, even as Jay lunged onto the man, you could do nothing but stare.

"Jay!" The shouts of his name clicked in your mind, breaking you out of your shell-shocked state. Every one of your friends rushed to get Jay off of Juyeon who ended up scrambling away, leaving a crowd of onlookers.

He was hesitant to turn around and look at you, you could tell so from his stiff shoulders, but you stayed hoping to see his face. You reached your hand out shakily to touch his shoulder, yet, before you could actually do so, he turned around, eyes avoiding to meet yours.

"Jay—"

There he went brushing past you, not a single word spoken from him. The slamming of the front door snapped you out of the hurtful daze you were in to follow him out of the house. He was standing on the pavement, unmoving. You approached him carefully, scared and paranoid of executing a wrong move.

"Jay," you walked to stand before him, feeling a tinge of hurt when he took a step back away from you. "Jay," you repeated his name, this time with a bit more desperation. "Why did you do that?" There was no answer, only a sullen silence which blurred into the night.

You shifted your attention to his fist, the forming of a bruise and some cracked skin decorated the fist he used to punch Juyeon. Your hand absentmindedly reached for his. "You're hurt," you were about to touch his hand when he pulled away, avoiding your hold, a look of hurt flashed across your features, but you tried to hide it.

"I can't let him talk to you like that," he whispered, looking anywhere but you. You wished to grab his shoulder and forcefully make him look at you.

"Jay, it's okay,"

"It's not!" He snapped, finally having the nerves to meet your eyes. His change of tone shocked you, your feet took a step back unknowingly. "It's not okay. Not when I feel like I'm going insane thinking you're going to get yourself in danger,"

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't," Jay heaved a breath in, voice shaking slightly. "I should be the one to say sorry for acting this way. I'm sorry,"

"Jay—"

"I'll see you around. Get home safe." You couldn't even reach him and he was already gone, leaving into the night. There was a twisting feeling in your heart that was unbearable. Was this the end of it all?

You felt even worse walking back into the house when the rest of your friends asked you about Jay and his whereabouts. It was awkward staying there after what went down, so you ended up going back home too, throwing yourself in bed to forget everything that had happened.

Jay, the fight, Juyeon, you wished those three things never happened that night. You wished you and Jay never happened at all.

"You're just going to leave it at that?"

A bottle of alcohol late at night with the company of your friends without Jay was what you needed after a rollercoaster of a events. The amount of shots you've taken wasn't enough to blur the image of Jay's tear stained cheek or the hurt in his eyes when he told you he loved you, not even the time he avoided your touch. You wondered if love was meant to be this painful. If it was, why were you so adamant on it?

"I … don't know," you set the glass down, chewing the insides of your cheek. "It'll be too cliche and stupid to say it's complicated, right? I think I'm just hurting him. I still love him, but I can't let myself to do so. It's weird, him reconnecting after a year and suddenly telling me he's in love with me out of the blue. What does all that mean?"

Sunghoon let out a hiss from the shot he took in one go, then turned to you. "Jay might be a dumbass for realising his faults and feelings a little too late, but there's one thing I'm sure about him, and that is how much he cares for you and loves you. I remember after you guys cut contact, he had trouble sleeping for months. He said the thought of you leaving haunted him,"

"I know it's unfair to you how he's only realised his true feelings now," Heeseung interjected, pouring another round into your glass. "But I think you're just hurting yourself more by pushing him away, just like how he did to you. You love him, don't you? Don't repeat the same mistakes, you've wasted a whole year together, don't waste a lifetime regretting what could've been."

Two stubborn people walking in constant circles, that was you and Jay. Too scared to face your feelings, hurting not only the other but also yourself.

Being absolutely emotional and pissed drunk only resulted in you crying your eyes out, which made your friends worried out of their minds till the point where they had to call the person who would know how to comfort you. However, they failed to realise in time that the same person was the cause of your tears.

"Where is she?" You heard his voice from a mile away, it was something you'd never forget. The others were slowly leaving your apartment after hoisting you to your bedroom. The process of which involved you sobbing and your drunk friends trying not to drop you.

The thudding sound of footsteps filled the silence in your home. It stopped right at the doorstep to your bedroom, the hesitation was evident when he entered after several beats. You laid on your side, facing away from him. His approaching figure made your heart race, you felt the bed dip beneath you upon him taking a seat next to you.

"You're awake, aren't you?"

You glanced up at him, the dimness of your room casted a shadow across his face, but he was still the most beautiful person you've seen. You slowly sat up, trying to move your body a distance away from him to make everything less surreal. The silence in the room was overwhelming, neither of you knew what to say first.

"Do you hate me?"

"What?"

"I was the first to let go this time," you chuckled dryly, doing everything but meeting his eyes, maybe you were the coward all along.

Jay let out a breath of disbelief, shaking his head. "How could I ever hate you?" It was a question, it was his truth, his dying truth that he held onto with all his heart. He glanced down, staring at his hands, the bruises from the hard punches thrown were healing. "I shouldn't have lashed out on you that night. It wasn't right for me to do so,"

In the midst of your hazy mind, your brain functioned well enough to recollect the memories he mentioned. Oh, that night, that incident. "It's alright, I know you didn't mean it, you were trying to look out for me, I get it," you averted your gaze, letting yourself smile a little to lessen the tension. "I think I was just scared,"

"Of what?"

"Of you leaving again,"

Jay's gaze softened in the darkness, his hand reaching out to hold yours and it was one of those times that you let him do so knowing how your heart felt like exploding. "I'm never leaving, nor do I hate you. I hate myself for pushing you away, for realising everything too late, for hurting you," he took a deep, yet shaky breath, "If anything, I love you,"

The drowsiness you were experiencing somehow disappeared in a blink of an eye, your mind blank, all you could hear in the back of your mind was those three words which Jay uttered. The air around you and him had shifted, the angry tension dissipated.

You felt his hold on your hand tightening, just the same as your heart tightening at the sight of Jay's heartbroken smile. "I love you," it was a confession, something ever so freeing to finally be able to say to him knowing your true feelings were reciprocated. "I'm sorry for running away,"

Jay moved closer, his face now barely a few inches away. Everything was a blur, how his other hand travelled to cup your cheeks, his breath practically fanning your lips. "I should be the one to say sorry," those were his last words before pressing his lips on yours.

It wasn't your first time kissing him, but something about the kiss was unlike the times you've experienced. Despite all those playful, lighthearted kisses you shared with Jay, you knew this was different. Jay was pouring his endless unspoken apologies and devotion, a mix of relief, sadness, longing were hidden behind it.

Even as you pulled away, you could feel the palpable longing between you and him. It was as if years of silent desperation, confusion and pining had melted into one, finally being addressed at that moment. Neither of you spoke a single word, just holding each other close, admiring one another. It was intimate, something you couldn't recreate with someone else.

"I will never leave you," he whispered, his thumb stroking your cheek reassuringly. "You're a piece of me and my heart, you make me whole. I would be a fool to ever let you go again,"

You stared at him as if he was your entire universe, the effect of his every word carved a space into your heart. Eyes closing momentarily, you let yourself melt into his touch, smiling softly. "I trust you."

That was all Jay needed to hear before a small smile spread across his face. You could hear it in silence, see the look on his face and that spark he has in his brown irises, you knew what it was, he was in love.

That night, he stayed with you until morning came. You held onto one another tightly, as though scared that it was the last day to be together. Little words were exchanged, but you were content by him holding you close.

For the first time in a while, you were able to fall asleep with no lingering thoughts, and for the first time ever, he was yours, and you were his.

Telling your friends you and Jay were finally together was a rollercoaster of emotions that you'd never forget.

It has been months since you and your best friend officially got together. The reactions from people around you were nothing but relief and support after knowing how much hell you two went through. For once, you actually believed in the 'forever' that was promised.

You didn't question the sound of keys unlocking your front door. It has become a habit for Jay to stop by your place every evening, almost just like before and it felt as if everything was falling back into place. Every visit of his came with something he prepared to surprise you, which was why his cheeky grin gave it away.

He pressed a kiss on the top of your head before joining you on the sofa, the playful smile of his never once left. "I have a surprise,"

"Chocolate cake?"

"Okay, something not edible,"

"What is it?" You couldn't help smiling too, nudging your boyfriend in an attempt to get him to reveal his so-called surprise.

"Close your eyes,"

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious. Come on, close them!" He was giggling, egging you on to go along with whatever he has up his sleeves. "Now, give me your hand," You complied. Not long after, you felt something cold and small making contact with the skin of your palm. "Open your eyes,"

You were first met with Jay's anticipating gaze, then you looked down, seeing a ring sitting on the palm of your hand. "A ring?" You were surprised, picking it up to look at it closely. It was beautiful, simple yet so intricate in detail, as if it was customised for you.

"Don't worry, it's not an engagement ring, it's a promise ring. I know we did make a five year deal, but we're still taking it slow," he picked the ring from your hold and gently took your hand, slotting the ring into your ring finger. "Maybe in another five years time, I'll actually get to fulfil our pact and replace this with an engagement ring,"

This was the closest you've felt your heart exploding. Heat rushed to your face, heart beating nonstop, you were suddenly the person who's first developed a crush for Jay all over again. "Since when did you become so cheesy," you scoffed, a small smile rested on your lips.

"Only for you, duh," it wasn't a lie whatsoever, Jay never hid himself when it came to you. "Let's call some takeout and stay in,"

"Are you staying over tonight?"

"Only if your bed is open to let me in," he made himself comfortable next to you, throwing his arms around you to pull you closer to his side.

"You know it always is."

Jay didn't say anything, but his smile was enough of a response. No matter if it's your bed, house or heart, you've always reserved a spot specially for him. He made up a part of you just the same as you were with him. He was your home and safe space. You were glad you made that stupid pact on one drunken night that led him back to you.

☆ permanent taglist (open):

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katsukistofu · 4 months ago

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PLEASE (if you feel like it) WRITE FOR AIZAWA! A SICK READER TROPE MAYBE?

Btw ur fics are so good and are part of the reason why I’ve gotten back into mha <333 I love ur writing style sm and ur hawks fics??? That was amazing

hi my love! thank you so much omg that’s so sweet, i’m happy i helped you rekindle your love for mha again lol! <3

sick (but never of you)

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ s. aizawa x fem reader. fluff. cursing. 997 words ★ your husband insists on taking care of you when you fall ill, despite your protests.

Not this shit again.

You groan as your eyes flutter open for the second time after you said you were fine, then proceeded to dramatically faint in Shota’s arms in the middle of your patrol and sit up, hurriedly tossing the pile of soft blankets off your body.

You shiver despite the warmth radiating from the heater nearby. Shota must have brought it out for you after getting you home.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The disapproving voice of your husband floats over, and there he is, leaning on the doorway with a steaming bowl of something in his hands. You perk up despite yourself. Miso soup?

“I don’t have time to sleep off a little cold, Shota!” Your arms tremble as you try to force yourself off of the plush king-sized bed. “It’s already past nine, I have to head to the agency.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” Shota wraps his arms around you to trap you in place, ignoring your insistent budging. “You’re staying home today with the cat.”

“But—But they need me…” You weakly mumble in his firm grip. It was no use trying to break free, and you’re not sure if you even want to anymore with how nice he feels against you.

“And I need you here.” His stern gaze doesn’t waver, and his hand guides your head from the back of your hair, which you’re certain looks like a disaster zone right now, to rest on his chest. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, happy and healthy.”

Shota brushes a hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. The little beads of sweat on your skin don’t bother him in the slightest.

“So let me do my job.”

“Are you using your teacher voice on me?” You grumble into the dark fabric of his sleeveless shirt. He smells warm and like all things good, as if he just came out of the shower.

“I vaguely recall someone commenting that it was ‘hot.” Shota’s gravelly voice teases your ear and his stubble tickles your cheek as he smirks, knowing he’s won the battle when he finally feels you melt in defeat against him.

He brushes a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay in bed, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” You say in a tiny voice, weakly slumping back into the sheets.

Shota comes back with a spoon and a folded piece of paper. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips as he holds it out to you.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that wants you to stay home.”

Your eyes widen as you look at the get-well card in your hands.

feel beter soon!! lots of loove, eri it said, with millions of tiny hearts doodled around your name. You choke back a sob as your eyes fall onto the little stick figure drawings of you pushing the little gray-haired girl on a swing set.

It looked just like the one from the playground nearby that you would often take her to on your days off.

us when youre not sick anymor! :D

“Shota, give me that damn soup.”

He chuckles deeply and scoots closer on the bed to feed you. You squeeze your eyes shut as a sharp throb suddenly pierces through your head.

“The room’s spinning again, that’s not normal is it?”

“No. No, it’s not.” Shota’s forehead creases in concern, bringing the spoon of warm soupy goodness up to your lips while his other hand holds yours.

You part your lips to drink it, letting the rich, comforting flavor of miso spread across your tongue.

Letting out a little sigh of relief, you’re about to lean back before Shota sets the bowl down on the nightstand to prop up the pillows behind you, making sure you’re comfortable before he picks it back up again and holds up another spoonful to your mouth.

“Come on, one more for me sweetheart.”

“Not hungry anymore,” you huff, turning your head away from his outstretched hand.

He lifts an eyebrow.

“We can cuddle after you take your medicine.”

“...Can you rub my tummy too?”

“You know I will.”

You sniffle and reluctantly open your mouth to sip a spoonful of the soup once again.

“Atta girl.” Shota smooths a kiss on your forehead, rubbing circles against the back of your hand.

He reaches over to the nightstand to grab your medicine he picked up from the local pharmacy earlier, and hands a small cup of what he pours to you.

You grimace at its cherry-colored contents and tilt your head back to drink it in one go like a shot.

“Good job. Now come lay on me.” He didn’t need to ask you twice, but Shota’s hands are already on your waist to gently flip you over him as he takes your previous position on the bed, setting you down to rest your head on your usual spot on his chest.

He strokes your hair gently, arm snug against your back while he presses you to him. “How are you feeling?”

“A little bit better,” you mumble, absentmindedly tracing the outline of his abs under his shirt. It's always been soothing to you.

Shota’s chest rumbles as he lets out a husky laugh. “Are you just saying that so you can keep tracing my abs?”

“Maybe.” You giggle against him, which turns into a cough and he firmly pats your back. His hand slides under your pajamas to rub gentle circles on your tummy like he promised. You softly squeal at the ticklish feeling of his hard-earned callouses against your skin, and Shota tenderly kisses your cheek once, twice.

All your senses are numb, but you can still feel the overflowing love behind them.

“Go to sleep, sweet girl. I got you,” he murmurs into your hair.

“Okay.” You comply easily this time, nuzzling deeper into his chest. “Goodnight, Shota.”

“Goodnight, angel. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you mumble before drifting off to sleep in the safety of his warm arms.

Maybe being sick wasn’t all bad.

#aizawa x reader #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #mha x you #mha fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha oneshot

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killerlookz · 5 months ago

Text

She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty: Pt. II | Joost Klein

Description: Joost Klein x f! reader (part two to this fic here) Joost returns home from tour, and he and reader finally get to rekindle their relationship with some much-needed make up sex.

Content: 18+ nsfw, mdni- rpf smut, oral (f! recieving), fingering, unprotected PiV, allusions to past angst/relationship issues but mostly just comfort/fluff

Word count: 4,379

Your eyes flutter as a soft touch against your cheek pulls awake you from your unconscious state. Heavy eyelids prying themselves open, fighting against the weight of sleep. Your bedroom is drenched in moonlight, providing just enough clarity to identify the figure that stands above you.

"Joost?" Your straining voice thick with sleep as your eyebrows furrow, confused, but you'd be lying if you said a smile wasn't tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Oh," He responds, lips just above your forehead, "Schatje, I didn't mean to wake you." His voice soft and apologetic.

"No," You mumble, heart pumping, far too ecstatic for your exhausted state, "You're home?" You outstretch a lazy arm, reaching for the lamp on your bedside table so you can actually see the man you're talking to. With a click, the room is enveloped in a soft orange glow. Your eyelids snap shut at the initial brightness, too harsh for your eyes, sensitive from sleep.

Last you heard, Joost wasn't supposed to be home from tour until tomorrow evening. Not that you could complain about his early appearance, it had been a hard few weeks without him.

You stare at the man above you, his glasses hanging down his nose, exposing his eyes, the pale skin surrounding them seeming darker than usual with hints of purple, his hair, messy. He looked exhausted, you figured it had been a while since he had gotten a good night's sleep.

"I was able to get an earlier flight." A small smile appears on his lips as he slowly stands up from the position where he hovers over you.

"Didn't tell me." You pout

"I didn't want you waiting up for me." His head falls to the side, apologetically.

"No? Just going to hover over me in the dark at-whatever time in the morning it is."

Joost shakes his head, chuckling,

"You make it sound so creepy."

"It is a little creepy," You giggle, "Waking up to some guy hanging above my face."

"Just giving you a kiss goodnight."

"Then why don't you come to bed?" You ask, patting the empty space next to you.

It was then that you had realized perhaps subconsciously you had been leaving room for Joost in bed every night. It had been over a month since you had last shared a bed, and yet still you had continued to sleep on "your" side of the bed, not allowing yourself to sprawl out.

"A few minutes, okay?"

You nod, your head falling to the side, still sleepy.

You manage to keep your eyes open, however, as you watch Joost walk away from you. You track his movements with your eyes, your gaze not leaving his body as he walks about the room.

There had been a lingering tension in the room, one that lightly dulled your excitement of having Joost home. Many words had been left unsaid between the two of you, having thought it better to push aside discussing those tumultuous first few weeks he had been away until Joost had gotten home. Neither of you wanted to deal with emotions getting lost or misunderstood over the phone anymore, both you and Joost wanted to fix your relationship, not continue the cycle of arguments you had unfortunately fallen into.

Still, things had been amicable between you, being able to hold conversations like normal- but, that gnawing feeling of obvious feelings having been unspoken did not cease.

Despite the tension, your heart still flutters as you watch Joost undress on the other side of the bedroom, stripping down to only his boxers. A smile grazes his lips as he looks up at you, catching you staring at him. You smile back, unashamed of how hard you had been looking.

"Be right there," The grin lingers on his face as he goes to toss his clothes into the closet. You take this moment to turn off the lamp beside you, the room once again now only lit by moonlight.

Moments later he's walking back toward the bed, the mattress dipping as he climbs in next to you.

Immediately, the two of you are meeting in the middle of the bed, wrapping a leg around his as you pull yourself near him, his arm snaking around your waist. You close your eyes as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss, so soft yet still filled with so many emotions. Joost grips you tighter, holding you firmly against his,

"I missed you," He mumbles, pulling away only slightly, his lips still ghosting yours as he speaks.

"I missed you too." It wasn't solely a physical missing him, but missing the Joost before tour, the Joost before the arguments and nights ridden with anger and spite. But as you lay in each other's arms, it feels as if you already have that Joost back, the Joost that wouldn't ever dare to hurt your feelings, not even in the slightest, "I'm glad you're home."

It felt ridiculous even saying having that Joost back, he had never left, and deep down you knew it, under no circumstances would either of you truly intentionally hurt each other.

You feel Joost's chest rising against yours before he lets out a large exhale.

"Mmm," He hums, nuzzling his face into your cheek, "Ik ben zo blij om thuis te zijn." (I'm so glad to be home), A small kiss is placed against your jaw before Joost speaks again, his words becoming slower, "Met mijn lieve meisje" (With my sweet girl)

"You're exhausted." You giggle, Joost had a habit of mixing up languages once he got to a certain point of tired, often speaking in some combination of English and Dutch, but it seemed now he had forgotten English entirely, "Prober wat te slapen." (try to get some sleep),

"Ahh," Joost's breath tickles your neck as he exhales, "You should speak Dutch more, zo mooi klinkt." (sounds so pretty)

You can't help but feel a little bad, your usage of Dutch in day-to-day life hadn't exactly been nearly as much as it should have been for someone with a Dutch boyfriend, living in the Netherlands. Despite the length the two of you had been together, and how long you had been living here you had yet to feel confident enough to use it so often.

You simply hum in response, unsure of what to say as you snuggle up closer to Joost, burying your head in his neck, and wrapping an arm around his torso. You had missed this closeness, realizing just how much you craved his touch as Joost's arm snakes up under the T-shirt you had been wearing, feeling his palm grip your now-exposed skin.

"Hold on," You mumble, sneaking out of Joost's grip, grabbing at the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You toss the fabric somewhere in the room, leaving both of you clad only in your underwear.

The two of you were long past the point in your relationship of there being any shame or shyness around nudity. There was nothing inherently sexual about your decision to further undress, rather the move was done solely due to your desire for skin-to-skin contact with Joost.

As you go to lay back down, Joost turns on his side, pressing his chest to your now bare back. His skin is soft, the warmth of his body heat exuding a familiar warmth as he presses his face into your neck. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"Slaap lekker, ik hou van jou." (Sleep tight, I love you.) Joost mumbles into your ear, and you can tell sleep is quickly overtaking him.

"Ik hou ook van jou." (I love you too.)

You wake up with a low groan, immediately noticing the sharp pain in your neck as you attempt to change your position.

"Ugh," You moan at the sensation, eyes fluttering open.

"Hmm?" You hear a hum from next to you, remembering that Joost had come home last night.

Inhaling deeply you turn your whole body to the side, wincing at the way your neck aches with your movements.

Your boyfriend lies next to you, awake, but his eyelids are still heavy as he looks at you. You forget the pain you're in for just a moment as you admire his peaceful state, his face illuminated by the soft orange glow of sunlight.

"What's wrong?" He asks, voice thick with sleep.

"Slept weird." You furrow your eyebrows, "My neck really hurts."

"Mijn arme meisje," (My poor girl) He pouts, "C'mon," He stretches a hand to your waist, "Roll over, maybe a massage will help."

Wordlessly, you comply, rolling onto your stomach, trying to adjust yourself comfortably against the pillows, tilting your head to the side so as to not suffocate yourself.

The bed dips as Joost moves from his position, a hand grazing your thigh, motioning you to pull your legs apart so he can sit between them.

You can feel Joost hovering above you as he kneels between your legs, his presence is a comforting one.

"Good morning," He mumbles, leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder blade.

"Morning." You respond, silently hoping for him to kiss you more. But soon enough his thumbs press against the back of your neck, the rest of your fingers just barely resting against your throat as he softly massages the spot where you're sore.

A small gasp leaves your mouth at the sensation, your eyes forcing themselves shut.

"That feel okay?" Joost asks, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"Perfect." You sigh, letting yourself enjoy his touch.

He continues for a little while longer, gentle moans leaving your mouth as he soothes your pain with the palms of his hand. After a few minutes of silence, Joost speaks again,

"Are things okay- between us? You've been short with me since I got back."

"Oh," You exhale, "-M'just tired." It's only partially the truth, you know you can't skirt around having to discuss the issues the pair of you had had at the beginning of tour for much longer, but you're hoping to divert the conversation for just a little bit more so you can revel in this moment, "We can talk about everything later. Let's just enjoy our morning"

"Okay," Joost's voice barely above a whisper, "Want me to go lower?" His hands trailing down to your shoulders.

"Mhm," You hum.

Joost kneads into the skin of your shoulders, eliciting more moans and sighs from you. His touch is just firm enough to be effective, yet still gentle, romantic.

He continues massaging down your back as you're enveloped in a comfortable silence. All tension seems to be erased from your body as Joost works his hands against you. There's no stress, no worries, only him and his reassuring touch.

Joost finds himself sliding his hands down your hips and to your thighs. He grips each thigh with one hand, his fingers pressing into the supple flesh. A familiar tightness creeps between your legs as you realize where he has positioned himself, and how close to your inner thighs his thumbs are.

You sigh as your back arches into his touch, forcing his hands a little further up your thighs. Joost continues his movements, his fingers inching closer, and closer to the inside of your legs.

"Like that?" He asks, his voice making it evident he already knows the answer.

"Yes." Is just about all you can manage out.

Joost swipes a thumb across the crotch of your panties, shivers running down your spine as he does so.

"How about if I touch you here?" He presses his thumb right above your clothed entrance, "Would you like that?"

"Please," You strain, your inner thighs pulsing with a growing arousal.

Joost's thumb ghosts over the fabric of your panties a couple times, swiping back and forth, teasingly, before pulling them to the side.

You gasp as the cold air from your bedroom meets your now exposed wetness before Joost slides a thumb through your folds, gathering your arousal before pressing on your clit. He draws circles against the sensitive nerves, coaxing gentle moans from you.

You need him terribly, as enjoyable as phone sex had been while he was away on tour, nothing could ever compare to the real thing. Sometimes it felt like Joost knew your body better than you did yourself, always able to make you feel a sort of pleasure you hadn't known was possible.

"Lay on your back," Joost commands, his voice still gentle. You do exactly as he says, whining a little at the loss of stimulation as his hand leaves your crotch.

You lay flat against the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Joost's fingers find themselves in the waistband of your panties, sliding them down the length of your legs and discarding them across the room.

Perched between your legs, Joost motions you to bend them, putting you on full display for him.

"So pretty," He muses as his eyes trail your naked figure. His small praise has your body hot as you position your gaze towards him.

His tongue swipes across his lips as he stares down at you, eyes aflame with desire. You had never seen a picture so perfect, the way that the warm glow of the sun seeped into your bedroom, illuminating him just right. You marveled at the man in front of you, even after years it had felt unbelievable that he was yours.

Joost leans forward, letting his hands rest on your thighs, pulling them apart. Soon his lips are pressed to your abdomen, soft kisses being littered against your skin before they eventually trail lower. One final kiss is placed just above your clit, forcing your back to arch as you all but beg for him.

A smirk graces Joost's mouth before his tongue leaves his lips, softly licking at you, forcing a sharp, "Oh," to leave you.

His tongue circles around your clit a few more times before being replaced with his lips, sucking at the bundle of nerves.

Each new movement of his mouth against you has you whining with pure delight, his tongue slowly trailing down to your entrance before dipping inside.

"Fuck.' You sputter, your hands finding their way into his hair. Joost's tongue flattens against your cunt, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, before pressing a kiss to it. The sensation has you gripping at the messy blonde strands of his hair, causing Joost to groan. The vibration his low voice makes against your pussy causes your abdomen to tighten, and your body to twitch in pure delight.

He pulls back for just a second, making you whimper at the lack of stimulation,

"Taste so good, schatje," He mumbles, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, "God, I missed this- missed your pussy."

His sweet words only make your body grow hotter, tingling with fervent arousal.

He continues to work his tongue against your cunt, skillful licks followed by sporadic kisses. The pleasure you feel is so intense that it is almost painful, loud, high-pitched moans now replace your soft whines.

Joost's lips envelop your clit, sucking at the swollen bud, his mouth is warm, wet, and unrelenting against your sensitive nerves, and you feel your legs trembling, you know you're close.

Your fingers grip Joost's hair, tight, as the stimulation almost becomes too much to bear.

"So close," You whine, but Joost doesn't seem to acknowledge your words, only continuing to push you closer to completion with his mouth. You rock your lips against Joost's face, forcing his tongue further onto you.

Your eyes force themselves shut as you feel your orgasm crashing into you, no words can escape your mouth, only strained noises as your toes curl, muscles tense, and legs twitch. Your cunt spasms under the pressure of Joost's warm mouth, your arousal spilling out of you and onto his tongue.

Joost doesn't spare a single drop as your orgasm rolls over you, the intense wave slowly subsiding as your eyes flutter open. Still, Joost's tongue remains buried inside of you, collecting your release. His lingering licks force a strained whine out of you, sore with overstimulation.

Joost eventually pulls back from you, his wet lips trailing kisses on your thighs before raising his head completely.

You struggle to catch your breath as Joost's head emerges from between your thighs, sitting up, a grin pressed against his lips, glossy from you.

You swallow thickly as you look down his body, noticing the way his cock strains against the tightness of his underwear, the white fabric spearing no detail about how he was feeling.

If he were to touch you now you'd surely cry from overstimulation, yet- somehow it seemed to be all you wanted- him, buried deep inside you.

Joost rests a hand on your thigh before turning a sympathetic gaze to you,

"Too tired to continue?"

"No," You shake your head.

"Good," His lips curling into a smirk, "I know you can hold out a little longer for me."

You nod, affirming his words,

"Need you, please." You whine, staring right at him, your sore legs parting once more as you speak.

Joost lurches forward, holding himself above you with his arms positioned on either side of you. He lowers himself slightly to press a kiss to your lips. You moan at the lingering taste of your release on him.

His kisses trail to your neck, sucking softly against your beating pulse. Your desperate hands roam his body, aching just to feel him.

"You know I love you, right?" He mumbles against your neck.

"Mhm," You sigh, content, "I love you too."

He lifts his head from where it is buried against you, looking straight down at you once more, shaking his head,

"I don't ever want to lose you, liefje." He speaks in earnest, eyes widening. Your heart feels like it's skipping beats as his intense gaze lingers on you, drawing out those feelings you had been keeping unsaid.

"I know," You whisper, "We're going to be okay." You nod, you know it. Joost nods with you, his gaze softening as he lowers a kiss to your cheek.

"You don't know how bad I've wanted his," Joost's voice is suddenly low, seductive.

"I think I do," You smirk, "And I think I may want this even more."

"Yeah," He breathes, "Why don't you show me then, mooi meisje" (pretty girl)

Joost rolls over, landing on his back, causing the bed to bounce slightly. You straddle Joost's legs, fingers trembling with excitement as they tease the waistband of his boxers.

You lean forward, pressing kisses to his stomach, eventually leading down to the elastic of his underwear. You can feel his breathing deepen as your lips grace his waist

You let your hand fall from where it toyed with the elastic, your palm rolling over his crotch. You feel his cock twitch under your light touch. You flick your eyes up to him, where he lays, propped up on the pillows, mouth open slightly.

You smirk as you continue to palm him through his boxers, his hips beginning to buck into your hand.

"Come on, schatje." He just about begs, hips stuttering forward. A smirk graces your lips, "Fuck, come on, I need you."

There's something of a desperation in his voice, his blatant desire for you just about knocking the wind out of you. Yes, teasing him was fun... but fucking him was definitely way better.

You bite your lip, your head lowering in a slow nod as your fingers return back to the waistband of his boxers as you begin to tug them down. He doesn't hesitate to help you out, lifting his back just slightly so you're able to pull them down his thighs, his hard cock springing from the confines of the fabric.

You give him a sheepish smile as his back returns to the mattress, leaning forward once more and wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. Your firm grip causes him to grasp as you slowly begin to pump your hand up and down the shaft.

Joost's head tips back as you continue to work your hand up and down his cock. You feel your own arousal growing as you watch his face, his jaw clenching as struggled groans leave his mouth.

"Stop that," He breathes out, "Come here, want you on top of me." He beckons.

You remove your hand from him, slowly crawling up the length of his body before stopping, now straddling his upper thighs. Joost flicks his head up, motioning for you to continue. You sit up, positioning yourself above him.

"That's it," He purrs as you grab the base of his cock, lining him up with your entrance. The head grazes your wet folds, causing you to gasp, only craving him more. You look back up at Joost, waiting for permission to continue. He nods fervently, "Go on, I know you want it."

"Yeah," You sigh, maintaining eye contact with him as you begin to sink down on him. Your lips purse, forming a straight line, eyes squeezing shut as he begins to stretch you out, and you take your time to fully take him in.

"Fuck, liefje," Joost groans as he bottoms out into you.

"You want me to go faster?"

"No," Joost breathes out, "No this is perfect, take it slow, schatje, enjoy the moment."

You're fine with that, slowly raising your hips until only the tip of his cock is in you, before sinking down onto Joost once more.

Joost sits up, grabbing your hips to help guide you at a steady pace that feels good for both of you. But it's not long before his hands leave your hips, palms sliding up and down your body, the pads of his fingers grabbing at you, groping wherever he can get his hands on.

"Joost," You whine as he hits that perfect spot inside you, "Oh, fuck, Joost."

"Feels good?" He asks, knowingly, his breathing heavy, "It's like you were made for me- fuck, you were made for me." He remarked at how perfect you felt around him.

All you can respond with is a series of sloppy moans and whines, the feeling of him inside you making your brain go numb.

"That's it," He groans, "Use that pretty voice, show me how good you feel."

Joost settles his grip on your ass, his dull fingernails digging into your flesh, pinching just enough to elicit a delightful sting. Joost's handle on you once again helps you maintain a steady pace as your legs begin to tire, muscles starting to burn from your consistent movement. To further help you, he begins bucking his hips in time with your movement, thrusting into you as you sink down onto him.

The way he repeatedly hits inside you makes it hard for you to concentrate, your only focus is on the overwhelming amount of pleasure you feel, each thrust forward coaxing you closer to another orgasm.

You begin to fall forward, your head resting on Joost's shoulder, as your chest collides into his. Your bodies are hot, sticky with a thin sheen of sweat, and the heat he gives off is almost unbearable as you rest against him. But the rest of your body is far too overwhelmed to sit up straight

"I love you," You slur out against his neck, dizzy off adoration and pleasure.

"I love you too, liefje," His hands lose their grip on your ass, instead his arms coming around to hold you at the waist. Joost places small kisses on your shoulder as your movements quicken, losing any pace, "I love you so much." He reiterates.

You're close, heat building in your abdomen as every muscle in your body constricts. You know you can't hold on much longer, your orgasm about to hit you at any moment now.

"I'm gonna-" You sputter, unable to finish your sentence as its broken by a sharp moan, your cunt clenching as an intense wall of pleasure smacks right into you. Your eyes flutter, your whole body twitching as your pussy spasms around Joost's cock, causing him to groan, your movements becoming sloppier as your release spills out of you, lewd, wet sounds filling the room.

"Good," Joost exhales, "Cum all over my cock, liefje."

Your orgasm soon disappears as Joost continues to thrust upwards into you, pleasure soon turning into overstimulation as you slump completely into him.

"Not much longer," He reassures, "You're doing so good."

Tears begin to spill down your cheeks at the feeling, your already sensitive nerves being worked to the extreme.

Joost's hips start to staccato, his thrusts becoming sharp, causing you to yelp into the spot where your head is buried into his neck. He grips you tighter, feeling like he's about to suffocate you before with a last grunt he's spilling into you, warm ribbons of cum coating the walls of your cunt with a few final thrusts.

Your body is trembling as you attempt to lift yourself up from where you lay against Joost, your body still tingling with lingering pleasure. Your eyelids are low as you look at Joost, your face carrying an entirely blissed-out expression.

A smile falls on Joost's lips,

"Oh," He chuckles, a hand coming up to wipe the tears from your cheek, "These are the only tears I ever want to make you cry."

You return a smile to him before his expression changes,

"Het spijt me, schatje" (I'm sorry, baby), His words are full of regret, "I'm so sorry for how things have been."

"I know," Your voice barely a whisper, "I'm sorry too."

"Things will be better, now that I'm home," He presses a kiss to your shoulder, "I promise."

"I know- I know they will," You nod.

If there was anything you knew for certain, you knew that you and Joost loved each other too much to stop fighting for your relationship. A rough patch of a few weeks had been nothing in comparison to the countless happy memories the two of you shared.

"Ik hou van jou, liefje," Another kiss to your shoulder, "Don't ever forget that."

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein smut #rpf #joost klein fic #joost klein fanfic #joost klein x f! reader

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featguler · 1 month ago

Text

it made us restless ────── my god, this reminds me of when we were young.

lewis hamilton is seen reconnecting with an old lover.

⌗ pairing : lewis hamilton x reader ⌗ tags : reader is female, and her faceclaim is established. reader is a singer. not proofread, possibly shitty. ⌗ notes : this is my 200 followers special!! a different sports!! i haven't done a 100 followers special because i'm technically supposed to write for a football athlete that is not from real madrid, but i haven't decided who i wanna do for that so... you get this first :3 also i tried doing something different with the header!!! title and description is from 'when we were young' by adele ♡ masterlist.

FACECLAIM 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ yura yunita ( instagram )

DISCLAIMER 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𐙚 i am not affiliated with yura yunita, lewis hamilton, or anyone mentioned in this fic 𐙚 any similarities in name, time, and place is purely coincidental 𐙚 do not mind the time stamps 𐙚 click on the pictures if it seems blurry

ynusername

liked by hamiltonsource, ynluvr, lewishamilton, and others

ynusername some of that ldt (long distance tennis) 🤪 @.lewishamilton tagged lewishamilton view all comments

lewishamilton <33 ❤️ by author

ynusername <33

username okay so anyone else got recommended this post on their timeline... seven years later...

username let me tell you about the heart attack i got... username i fr thought they were getting back together

lewishamilton i totally beat you though ❤️ by author

ynusername liar liar pants on fire → lewishamilton my pants aren't on fire?? → ynusername i wouldn't know you're half the world away → lewishamilton aw sorry pretty baby :( <33 username oh... this relationship wasn't a hoax... → username ??? 😭😭😭 username they were CUTE cute huh..

username i love you my mother and my father please adopt me

username wow seeing my comment from 7 years ago here is crazy... → username 😭😭😭

username this must be a sign from the universe huh...??? HUH???

username it's literally just the instagram algorithm fucking things up again calm down username REAL i'm not even following y/n

yourfriend cutiessss! ❤️ by author

ynusername i love you! 🥺

ynsource

liked by ynfanaccount, ynluvr, hamiltonsource, and others

ynsource my sources say that y/n is rekindling with an old lover 🤭 tagged ynusername view all comments

username and what sources are these

ynsource trust me → username LITERALLY "trust me bro" SOURCE???

username creating unnecessary drama

username i feel like it's been a few months ❤️ by author

ynsource 🫣

hamiltonsource wait can u tell me ❤️ by author

ynsource ofc baby username not the ship going so strong that their fan accounts are also in a love affair

username that's a dinner for TWO...

username she's allowed to have friends you know → username or other men idk → username no other men → username ?????

ynusername

liked by ynsource, lewishamilton, and others

ynusername some fresh air before the tour 🤝 which dates will you be going? :-) <33 view all comments

username oh she's teasing us

username guys.......... they're obviously talking again right

ynusername i'll see you all!!!

username I'LL SEE YOU I LOVE YOU username SEE YOU SEE YOU SEE YOU username vitamin SEE YOU!!! ❤️ by author → ynusername ohh that's cute → username WAIT ILY THANK YOU FOR REPLYING → ynusername <33

username I'M GOING TO THE ARLINGTON SHOW QUEEN ❤️ by author

ynsource work those hamstrings 😍

username i feel like i'm in a cult

hamiltonsource we will... be seeing you <33

ynusername which dates? xo <33 ynsource HOW DID YOU GET A REPLY BUT NOT ME??? @.hamiltonsource → hamiltonsource i'm just better baby

username london 2nd night! <33 ❤️ by author

username she's fucking with us right

georgerussell63 monaco date ❤️ by author

ynusername which obviously exists → georgerussell63 🤣 ❤️ by author username great now we have both of *****' ex interacting with one another

username why are we so afraid to say the word lewis

username SHHHH THAT'S FORBIDDEN AROUND HERE → username wtf??? i'll @ him idc @.lewishamilton → username real → username @.lewishamilton

ynusername

liked by ynsource, ynluvr, yniloveu others

ynusername found some gems for a couple of years ago 🥰 view all comments

username were you getting married 😹

ynusername 🤫

ynsource to WHO!?!?!?!?

username happy bday queen

username it's not her bday yet 😭

ynluvr oh you are GORGEOUS gorgeous ❤️ by author

ynusername <33

username white is fr her colour

username whoever is going to marry her will be so lucky to see her walking down the aisle... 🥺

lewishamilton

liked by ynusername, hamiltonsource, and others

lewishamilton First paddock birthday in a while 🎂🥳 <33 tagged ynusername view all comments

ynusername happy birthday to me!!! ❤️ by author

lewishamilton Birthday girl! → ynusername :-)

username HARDLAUNCH?????

username me when the world didn't end in 2015

username my mom thinks i'm insane for tossing my phone across the room after seeing this

hamiltonsource happy birthday mom @.ynusername

ynsource go away that's MY mom??? → hamiltonsource OUR mom 🥰

username HEEELLLLLLOOOOO??

username OMG.....

username wait why am i emotional

username seeing lewis post y/n gave me such intense whiplash i think i was transported back to 2011

username i have no one to send this to

#໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა : 𝑬𝑼𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑨 𝑺𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑨 #lewis hamilton #hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #hamilton x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fic #smau #social media au

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inuyashaluver · 8 months ago

Note

just read your newest alexia fic and it was fantastic!! please write more for her (ideally rivals x lovers but I don't really care what trope because both your alexia fics are fantastic so I'm sure I will be happy with any alexia fic you write!)

past reminders - alexia putellas

alexia putellas x reader

description: in which you and alexia rekindle a old flame you both thought was completely destroyed

warnings: angst but happy! mentions of past situationships, heartbreak, swearing, spanish in bold italics! suggestive content, long - BUCKLE IN

a/n: i’ve been itching to write this lmao, thank you so much, my love!! i’m a sucker for enemies to lovers no word of a lie, please enjoyyyyy xx❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

if someone was to describe the relationship between you and alexia, it was simply pure hatred.

to put it quite simply, you fucking despised each other, and you both thought it was for good reason.

—

even though yours and alexia’s pit of hatred ran deep, it wasn’t always like this. you and alexia were originally best friends, going back to years and years of friendship ever since the both of you were 7.

the two of you were inseparable, playing football together, going to school together, spending each and every afternoon together. it was the best, you truly had so much love for each other, twin flames that couldn’t be put out.

as the years went on, you and alexia grew older. and as the two of you grew together, so did affection bubbling under the surface. you and alexia had feelings for each other and never said anything of it.

well until one day at 19, you and alexia were hanging out at her house after training for barcelona, both of you getting signed at the same time after your booming success in the spanish teams.

you and alexia were side by side on her bed, the both of you giggly as you chatted and debriefed, even though you saw each other at every moment.

you weren’t exactly sure how the conversation started but alexia brought up that she hasn’t slept with anyone yet. your eyes were so wide at the conversation and her forwardness, not really comprehending what was going on out of pure shock.

you both knew you hadn’t your first times yet and alexia proposed something that took your breath away.

“if we sleep together for our first time, it’ll be good practice for later” alexia said like it was nothing, turning her head to look over at you. your cheeks were bright red, refusing to look her in the eye,

“ale” you breathe out nervously, “it’ll just be one time, friendly sex, nothing more” her body moved to perch up on her elbow, looking at you expectantly, “i trust you the most”

you glance over at her and harshly swallow the lump in your throat, alexia’s eyes drifted to where your neck had movement and smirked gently.

“one time?” you say so softly, alexia almost couldn’t hear it, she chuckles with a nod, her finger lightly tracing along your arm, smirking when goosebumps trailed on your skin.

“mhm, nena (babe), one time” she grabs your hand gently, her smirk only growing when you nod slowly “okay”, she kisses the corner of your mouth,

“mamá and alba aren’t home tonight” she whispered, reading your mind before her hand slipped up your shirt.

“don’t be nervous, it’s just me” she smiles softly, your breath hitched when she presses her lips to yours, moving together messily before her tongue licked into your mouth, a groan escaping the back of her throat when your hands carded through her hair and gently tugged.

—

and to put it simply, it wasn’t a one time thing. it was regular. very regular. almost every night. especially when she moved out of her mother’s house and had her own apartment.

alexia refused to put a label on anything. you were her best friend and nothing more, it was casual, platonic sex in her mind. and unfortunately for you, your heart yearned for her. you loved her, how could you not?

your heart would lurch at how kind she was after sleeping with you, kissing you affectionately and always cleaning you up afterwards with utmost care and diligence.

“so beautiful” she’d whisper, pressing gentle kisses along the length of your nose before pecking your lips multiple times.

alexia would send you suggestive smirks when she saw you at training, her eyes lingering as you changed and making sure to wink at you whenever you’d watch her change.

she would touch you more than necessary yet no one caught on. her hands would linger on your hips or waist as she moved passed you, giving you subtle kisses when you’d get a goal or just played well.

alexia was a very affectionate person, so everyone just thought the two of you were doing your regular best friend routine, unaware that alexia would drag you to her apartment almost every night to leave you breathless, marked up and shaky at the knees.

she was still your best friend of course, she just saw it as an added bonus. but for you, you wanted to call her yours, for you to be hers but the catalan didn’t want that.

she’d tell you almost every moment she could, “you’re my best friend” a chip in your heart that only grew bigger as the years progressed.

this went on for years, almost 5 consecutively and it was shocking no one caught on. she didn’t just sleep with you, she slept with other girls and you knew that but she’d always come back to you.

“they’re not you, they don’t know me like you” she’d tell you like clockwork, always making your heart a little fuzzy when you knew it shouldn’t.

it was torcherous for you, you tried to stop giving into her every time, but she’d give you those puppy dog eyes as she interlaced your hands together and you were done for.

and funnily enough, everything came to a stop when alexia got a girlfriend. when alexia got a girlfriend, she threw you away at the expense of her girlfriend’s words, “why do you need a best friend when you have me?” and because alexia ‘loved’ this girl, she dropped you.

she never returned your calls, she only talked to you at training when it was necessary. she wanted nothing to do with you. it killed her and you.

the once happy, bubbly duo went through an extremely dark stage at this point. you filling the void with random girls from team bonding nights at clubs and always regretting it later.

and whenever you would, alexia would fucking rip you apart over it. even after weeks of not talking.

“you look a little desperate, no?” she spat out as she walked up next to you at the bar. “fuck off” you glare at her, about to move away before she grabbed your wrist and pulled you back,

“it’s pathetic” she stares down at you, you roll your eyes in response. alexia could be with other people but god forbid you did.

“you’re pathetic, you can be with someone and i can’t?” you laugh humorously, alexia’s gaze growing colder by the second, a contrast from the warm alexia you loved so much.

“i have a girlfriend, i'm not throwing myself at anyone” another chip at your heart. from then on, alexia was truly nothing to you. you pushed her away harshly, promising that she wouldn’t have to see you anymore.

you left in a rush that night, making an effort to text your manager that you wanted to transfer in the upcoming window. so when the contract for madrid came along, you accepted.

—

you didn’t mind madrid, it was good for you. you were away from alexia and were actually strengthening your playing style and making some friends. and for you, a bonus was how mad it made alexia.

whenever madrid and barcelona would verse each other, people would definitely notice how much you and alexia hated each other.

the filthy looks said it all and not to mention the harsh words and dangerous tackles that would be made by the both of you.

when your spanish teammates would come over to you with bright smiles and warm hugs, you loved to watch alexia’s pissed off expression.

she’d get pissed when you wouldn’t even hug her as congratulations, you would shake her hand dismissively and take yours back like hers was made of fire. and yeah, maybe you were being a little childish, but she was too.

“you won’t die if you touch me, you know? but it’s fine when you fucking push me to the ground everytime i get the ball” she’d grit out, only make you grin in satisfaction,

“poor alexia, tell your girlfriend to kiss you better” you pout sarcastically, making an effort to bump her shoulder with yours as you walked past. you knew alexia was currently single, but you knew she hated when you brought up the girl. so you did it frequently.

you’d both get worried expressions from teammates after each time you interacted with each other, gaining a dismissive wave from both of you.

no one knew what happened, and you wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, and neither would alexia.

so everyone had to deal with the two of you being insufferable whenever in the same vicinity.

—

during camp for spain, you’d both give each other hell. it didn’t matter if you were on the same team, the arguing actually got worse.

“your passes are sloppy” alexia would say when you touched the ball, making you roll your eyes with a groan.

“okay, la reina (the queen), sorry we’re not all perfect” you narrow your eyes at her, making a show of kicking the ball harshly to her, hitting her shin as you sent her a sticking sweet smile.

she hated that that nickname when it fell from your mouth, wanting to just wipe that fucking smile off your face.

“don’t be jealous” alexia says smugly, you scoff at that, crossing your arms over your chest, “i would never be jealous of you” you look her up and down, the two of you approaching each other slowly as the argument heightened.

“oh really? isn’t that why you moved to madrid, couldn’t handle that i was better?” she’s up close to you now, your chests mere centimetres away from each other.

you breathe heavily as you look up at her, “yeah, i did move to madrid to get away from you” you argue, making her chuckle condescendingly, “good to see you have no loyalty” she darts her eyes between yours, trying to rile you up and it was certainly working.

“you want to talk about loyalty? remember you dropped me all those years ago?” you laugh in disbelief, body tingling with how close alexia was to you, a vast contrast to what you would do in the past at this proximity.

“i had my reasons” she says warningly, not wanting to get into this subject in the middle of training. “yeah, don’t worry i remember the texts, ‘i can’t be around you anymore, sorry’” you mock her,

“all because of that fucking girlfriend of yours, you dropped years of friendship with me” you send her an icy glare, one she was quick to return, “again with the jealousy” she mocks, you’re quick to give her a shove, “fuck off, putellas” you grit, alexia comes right back, her eyes boring into yours.

“you’re a child” she challenged, “excuse me?” you bite back, “you’re. a. child.” she breaks down each word intentionally, making sure it lingered in your ears. you’re both heavy breathing at this point, faces dangerously close to each other.

“i’m the child? you’re the fucking child, alexia!” you exclaim, now mapi and jenni coming over to separate the two of you.

“you’re both children, enough” jenni warns, pushing alexia by the chest away from you as mapi held you back.

“best friends for years and now you can’t even talk to each other like adults” mapi scolds, you and alexia sending each other glares and mouthing insults at each other.

“she knows what she did” you spat out, letting ona drag you away. alexia watched as you left, sighing heavily when her mind raced with all those good times you had. she missed you, dearly. she was just terrible at showing it.

—

it was childish for the both of you, but alexia had broken your heart so many times, you felt like you were just protecting your peace.

alexia did feel bad for the way she dropped you, she did love you, truly as much as you did with her. but she couldn’t bring herself to put a label on things with you just out of pure fear.

at first, she didn’t want to lose you, alexia wanted to shield you from everything bad in the world and tell you everything was going to be okay with a kiss.

but alexia thought she fell in love with her ex girlfriend and listened to her, even when she had feelings for you.

she didn’t know how harsh the consequences would be. losing you completely tore out a piece of her soul.

—

it was during a random match between madrid and barcelona in 2020 where things took a shift, just before off-season. the score was neck and neck, a typical harsh match between the rivals.

you and alexia still ‘hated’ each other but were much more tame about it, just choosing to ignore each other rather than outwardly argue.

you were on the ball when a defender from barcelona came up from behind you out of no where, making you attempt to dodge around her until a sharp pain shot up your knee. a pop.

you went down with a piercing scream, the sold out stadium going quiet at you clutching your knee in pain. and funnily enough, the first person to you was alexia.

“move away from her” she spat out, her hand coming to the back of your head and placing it on her thigh. you weren’t even comprehending who it was at this point, just enveloped by the comforting scent that once gave you a sense of home.

“you’re okay” she breathes out, cradling your head to her stomach as you cried out, “ale, my knee” you choked out, alexia hushes you, her thumb brushing your cheek as she held you close, waiting for the medics to come arrive.

once they were assessing you, alexia was about to move but you clutched her hand, “no-” you start, “just, stay for a second” you look up at her pleadingly, she nods, her hand giving you a gentle squeeze.

once you got told the dreaded three letters, your tears started again, rolling down your cheeks as you held onto alexia. she welcomed the contact like a second nature, both of you gaining a sense of security you hadn’t had in years.

“breathe” she says softly as you get situated on a stretcher, “you’re okay, i promise” she says while looking right into your eyes.

you feel like you’re 19 again, absolutely head over heels for this girl, some of those old feelings lingering in the pit of your stomach.

you get carried off and barcelona wins the match, alexia comes to find you without a second thought. she takes a deep breath before you she knocks on the door of the physio room, hearing a sniffle and a soft “come in”.

“hey” she swallows, hovering near the door as she saw you with your knee braced and iced. “you can come inside” you chuckle, alexia stiffens but walks in, sitting in a chair next to you as you stare up at the ceiling.

“i have surgery in two days” you blurt out, alexia never takes her eyes off you, watching as some tears still roll down your cheeks. “who’s taking you?” she questions softly, you let out a deep sigh.

“i haven’t gotten that far yet, my knee just popped” you tease, making alexia smile softly. the both of you never thought you’d be this civil after all this time.

“i’ll take you” alexia said simply, your head snaps to where she was, “i can’t ask you to do that” you stumble out,

“you’re not, i’m offering” alexia shrugs, “then i can’t accept your offer” alexia huffs in annoyance, “fine, it’s not an offer, it’s happening” alexia says sternly, you knew there was nothing to argue about.

there was no way you could go all the way to madrid in your condition, staying in barcelona for surgery was just a no brainer at this point.

“are you sure?” you say hesitantly, “positive” she says earnestly, smiling at you gently while you returned an appreciative one.

alexia forced you to stay at her house, getting your stuff from the hotel and setting you up in her guest room. it was a little awkward, not really knowing how to converse with a girl you’ve known for years of your life yet was your borderline enemy for years as well.

though with a little help of your injured knee, alexia and you managed to chip away at that awkwardness.

when you woke up extra sleepy from surgery, alexia gave you a comforting smile as you came to your senses, only leaving the hospital room if it was completely necessary.

“how are you feeling?” alexia said softly as she adjusted the pillow behind your head, fussing with the blankets until you swatted her hand away with a soft laugh.

“i’m fine, calm down” alexia drops the blanket with a sheepish grin and sat down on the chair next to you,

“ale?” you breathe out, she hums as she looked up at you, “thank you” you look over at her, her eyes are a little glossy but you chose to dismiss it.

“you don’t have to thank me, you’d do it for me” she smiles, you nod slowly, it was true, no matter how much you thought you disliked her throughout the years, you would help her in a heartbeat. no matter the time or place.

suddenly you start laughing and alexia gives you a questioning smile, “sorry i just,” you start, turning your head to look at her properly, “i didn’t think this would be happening after all these years” alexia nods along with your words with a little chuckle,

“i’m surprised you haven’t bitten my head off yet” she teases, “never say never, putellas” you warn teasingly, both of you laughing together in a little moment of solitude.

—

alexia was incredibly patient with you when you got discharged from the hospital, walking beside you with your crutches at your pace while sending you encouraging words and smiles.

“take your time” she says as she hovers next to you, ready to catch you if you fell. she helped you into the car and literally carried you into her apartment despite your protests to save time, wanting you to rest on the couch as soon as possible.

she was grateful about the time off, she doesn’t think she’d be able to train or play without you clouding her mind. she finally felt like she got you back, even if it was just a tiny piece.

she elevated your knee and tucked you in with warm blankets, making you a tea and sitting next to you as she encouraged you to put on something to watch.

her heart warmed when you put an old childhood favourite of both of you. a wave of nostalgia hitting you both. she kept glancing at you every couple of seconds,

you both laughed with each other at the movie, subconsciously quoting some parts of it with each other and recounting old memories. suddenly a wave of sadness hits alexia because she realised how much she’d lost.

when you realised she stopped laughing along with you, you glance at her nervously and give her a worried expression.

“are you okay?” you say softly, alexia shakes her head, tears pricking at her eyes seeing your soft features, you gesture to her to come closer and she sits on the couch facing you, the tears rolling down her face as she sniffled.

“ale, what’s wrong?” you place a hand on her thigh and she flinches, you pull it away slightly but she holds onto it instead.

“i’m so sorry” she chokes out, looking at you tearfully, you can feel your heart break a little at how she was crying, your eyebrows furrow in concern,

“what-” you start before she interrupts, “no, please let me speak” she sniffs, gripping into your hand tightly,

“i’m so stupid, there aren’t enough words to tell you how sorry i am for letting you go the way i did, you didn’t deserve that” she begins,

“i was clueless for listening to my ex, you were there for me through everything and i put you aside like you were nothing” she blubbered, each word clutching your heart.

your own tears begin to escape your tear ducts, “but you’re not nothing, you’re everything, you were my everything and i let you go when i wanted you, i’ve wanted you forever” she pronounced, looking right at you to make sure you heard everything she said.

“i love you, i always have” she expressed, your mouth hung open a little at the three words. silence settled over the two of you, hands still tightly interlaced.

“i love you too” you admit, alexia’s face lights up, only you shake your head for a moment, “alexia, you need to understand that you really hurt me, and i know i fucked up too, we both did” you start,

“if we were to give this another try, it needs to be slowly” you fiddle with the blanket on top of you, the two of you are still crying, still not believing this situation was real.

she agrees without hesitation, “i’ll do anything you want me to, hermosa (beautiful)” she breathes out.

her free hand moves to wipe a stray tear off your cheek, making you give her a wet laugh before you pulled her into an awkward positioned hug but you both didn’t mind, you’d both finally woken up to yourselves. you loved each other.

—

for the next few weeks, you and alexia grew closer and closer, finally falling back into that special relationship you had with each other.

it was going slow for about two days until the both of you broke under pressure and just gave into each other, acting more like a couple than you ever have.

“hi, bebé (baby)” alexia cheeses out when she sees you sitting on the couch, you crane your head back to look at her, giving her an affectionate smile that she was quick to return.

she presses a sweet kiss to your lips, a languid kiss that had you both sighing into each other's mouths.

she pulls away from you with an exaggerated peck to make you laugh, plopping down beside you and directing your head to her shoulder, you cuddle into her with a satisfied smile, her scent calming you down instantly.

—

it wasn’t a surprise that once you were fully recovered from your acl, you made your return to barcelona. once you made your comeback, you and alexia weren’t hiding anything anymore.

it felt good to claim each other as your partner, an endless amount of support sent your way.

you and alexia were quite literally joint at the hip once you finally moved in together, barely any time wasted when it came to the two of you, alexia claiming you needed to make up for ‘lost time’.

with the amount of devotion alexia gave to you, you forgave her, it took a while but you both wanted to move on from it, a fresh start for the both of you.

some of your teammates in the spanish team still found it hilarious when they found out why the two of you hated each other, still finding it a little baffling to see you so loved up at training.

—

“ale” you send her a half hearted glare as she sat in her cubby watching you get changed for a national game.

“yes, bebita (baby girl)” she grins at you smugly, you cross your arms over your chest, walking over to her and giving her a challenging expression. she grabs your hips and tugs you forward, making you sit sidewards on one of her thighs.

“not funny, where is it?” she chuckles at your mock anger, pressing tender kisses to the underside of your jaw,

“where is what?” she mumbles against your skin, you squirm slightly when she reaches your pulse point, slapping her hand that was now squeezing your thigh.

“my jersey” you groan, alexia lets out a little laugh, kissing your cheek repeatedly, “it’s right there” she points out, suddenly you stand up, grabbing her hand and making her stand in front of your cubby, looking at her expectantly.

“what does that say?” you point at the jersey hung up, “putellas?” she grins, “smart girl, who’s jersey is that?” you try not to laugh, “yours” she smiles wider, her hand dropping yours to wrap around your waist, making you stand in front of her as she continued to kiss your cheek softly.

“in case you forgot, that’s not my last name” you say amusingly, feeling her smiling against your skin as she gave you a gently squeeze.

“it will be soon” she grins, flipping you around so you could face her, “propose first” you say cheekily, patting her cheek with your hand. she turns her hand to kiss your palm, a silent promise that it was happening soon. (happened a week later)

“you’re no fun,” she pouts mockingly, reaching above you to retrieve the jersey that actually said your name on it, giving you a shit eating grin as she watched you get changed.

“children” mapi and jenni say at the same time, watching as alexia pulled you into another kiss that took all the breath out of your lungs.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you! ily jenni x

liked by ona.batlle and 44,232 others

alexiaputellas: she thinks she’s the boss

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yourname: i am the boss

↳ alexiaputellas: it’s so cute how you think you are bebita (baby girl)

↳ yourname: i literally am?

↳ jennihermoso: oh she definitely is

↳ marialeonn16: 100% is

↳ alexiaputellas: a bunch of traitors

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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teejaystumbles · 1 year ago

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more fire elemental Hob! (more here) I am really loving this AU, I might even write something 🥰

#dreamling #the sandman fanart #will get an au tag when I think of one #teejaystumbles #fic: rekindle my heart

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00queasy00 · 2 months ago

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Talk shit, get hit!

Part 2 of 2 of my tomarry reverse big bang 2024 - @tomarrybigbang

This has been so so cool, especially having multiple writers create a story inspired from the same artwork! I was so excited and happy to work with them both and also I cannot wait to read their stories for bedtime. Thank you for choosing my artwork! <3

<< MY AO3 ART LINK >>

Fic 1: Auror Potter by albondiguilla

Summary: Harry Potter is done. He's been in the past for months now, working undercover as a poorly paid waiter in The Lounge: Britain's magical elite's favorite restaurant. He's more than ready to wrap things up, get the fuck out of 1953 and hug his godson again. Enter, Tom Riddle: Dark Lord in The Making and Arsehole Extraordinaire. (And owner of The Most Fuckable Mouth Harry's seen since his days of shameless debauchery he was young.) Impulse control has never been a strong suit of his, and this mission is proving to be the most difficult one yet.

--------------------

UPDATE: FIC 2: Happy Wife, Happy Marriage, Happy Life by akuyasshi

Sumarry: There have been rumours going around that the Minister's marriage to his wife is falling apart, heart-wrenching to hear when we all remember the exciting festivities back when they first joined in holy matrimony - apparently the Minister has been cheating on other women and his wife is not denying the cheating allegations! Will we be subjected to a divorce file in the Wizengamot soon? Or will they rekindle their passion as husband and wife before that disaster occurs? - Rita Skeeter or; Harry Riddle is not happy as Minister Riddle's wife.

#tomarry #tomarry big bang #tomarry big bang 2024 #tomarry reverse big bang 2024 #doodles #soulseeker

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teenidlegirl · 6 months ago

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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ౨౿ ׅ ۟ ֪ 𝓐cross 𝓣he 𝓢tars ۪ ׂ 𓈒 ୭

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ knight!miguel 𝓍 queen!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. after an assassination attempt, a personal bodyguard is assigned to you by the court. an old childhood friend. as time goes on, you two rekindle your friendship but it blossoms into something more that risks both your occupations.

ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. royal!au, anidala coded, sorta futuristic setting (like star wars), forbidden love, slow burn, tension, fluff, angst, smut (mild and fluffy), pet names, mention of assassination attempts, secret pregnancy, hispanic/latina!reader ( mdni )

ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝓛𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝓝𝐎𝐓𝐄. for my fellow anidala stans, this one is for you. even tho star wars day already passed, imma still post this. ngl one of my favorite fics i’ve ever written! enjoy, mis amores! ♡

an assassination attempt.

fear plague the streets. citizens remain locked in their homes. whispers of fear and concern for their queen throughout the city.

the court was in pure chaos. members shouting at one another, demanding answers for this troubling incident, questioning who dares attack their queen. the room was consumed with fear and anger. an authorized investigation is underway, handled by authorities and military officials. in the meantime, a collective proposal was constructed.

a personal bodyguard.

you aren’t opposed to it, since it was your final say on the proposal. it was logical, protection against the opposer. nueva york looks up to you, their queen. they love and worship you. admire your devotion and dedication to them, the selfless spirit you carry. always putting your people’s needs as your top priority. serving what’s best for them.

to see their queen almost assassinated breaks their hearts. losing you is like heaven losing an angel. you are aware of their love for you. this assassination attempt is not going to pause your queen duties.

once the green light was given, a bodyguard was found in a manner of minutes.

general miguel o’hara.

an old childhood friend. a friend you haven’t seen in 10 years. a friend you were desperate to see again.

when he was brought in, your breath was stolen.

handsomest face on a man. chocolate curls with sprinkled gray streaks within, sharp cheekbones, and a incredible physique with of pure muscle. more than the average male. stands tall at 6’9 which makes him a tower compared to you. perhaps an intense growth spurt. he was already taller than you but now a tower. a faint scar on his right cheek, possibly from battle.

he grew up, from a shy young boy to a charming knight. he has changed so much.

“your majesty.”

oh his voice is so low yet charming. it sends shivers down your spine but in a pleasant way.

his height became more apparent when you have to crane your neck all the way up to simply meet his gaze. the height difference is quite amusing.

“general.”

your breath wasn’t the only one stolen. the minute he walked through those sliding glass doors, miguel was immediately captivated. it’s been years since he saw you personally. of course he had seen you before. the yearly ceremonies, festivals, and balls. your friendship may have ended but he observed you from afar, watch you blossomed into a beautiful, intelligent woman, his queen. beautiful couldn’t describe you best. ethereal is more accurate. his love for you never vanished from all those years.

with each step he took closer, he grew more anxious. by the time he stands before you, miguel is utterly enthralled. your beauty is truly beyond this world, this universe. those portraits of you don’t do you justice. how angelic you appear. white is your signature color, hence why the public refers you as the “angel queen.” god he truly believes an angel is gracing his presence right before him. it’s an honor to witness your beauty, the queen of his city.

the angel of his heart.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

it was simple protocols. miguel follows where you go, attached to the hip, eyes never leave your figure. stands beside your throne as you converse with the court or other officials during meetings. strolls alongside you with hands behind his back as you walk. offers a hand to assist you stepping in or out of vehicles. gently shields you with an arm from approaching individuals who wish to gain your attention. it’s a habit considering he’s a bodyguard and your life is currently at stake.

miguel is constantly on high alert for any potential threat. the crown is in his protection, your life is his responsibility. he vowed to not fail and keep you safe. he has to protect the angel he loves deeply.

in the beginning, it was a simple professional relationship between bodyguard and client. miguel remains at your side at all times and you continue with your duties as queen. your old friendship still lingers but you remain with a professional relationship with a small acquaintance.

however, those feelings of desire and admiration began tearing down that wall of professionalism.

it starts with innocent glances and soft smiles. acknowledging and appreciating each other. no one could suspect anything serious. just a queen showing her appreciation for her gentle knight.

then, those light touches.

passing large crowds, your breath hitches when you feel a large hand gently resting on your lower back as miguel guides you through the crowd. a tingly sensation invades your body. cheeks grow warm, heart fluttering, butterflies in your tummy.

that was a reoccurring hand placement. miguel’s hand resting either on your upper or lower back. most of the time on your lower back when in private.

both of you feel like a bashful mess. your heart fluttering at the intimate touch and miguel going insane at softness of your body, even through your dresses. he worries it’s an overstep of your boundaries but you kindly remind him it’s not.

the light touches grew more intimate.

during an private visit to your parents’ home, your foot missed a step which caused you to slip. but thanks to a pair of sturdy arms catching you just in time, you collide in your bodyguard’s chest.

“¿estas bien, mi reina?” miguel voiced his concern, looking down at you with worry in his eyes.

looking up at him with fluttering eyes, your heart skips a beat by the close proximity.

“y-yes, estoy bien.” you whisper, blushing.

you remain in his arms for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. you feel his slightly nervous breathing gently hitting your face, yours hitting his chest. you can’t resist how comforting it feels being in his arms. a sense of comfort and safety. miguel relishes your soft body against his rough one. adores how tiny you appear, how perfect you fit in his hold. the fear of getting caught makes you pull away from his arms. blush creeping on both your faces.

he mumbles an apology but you kindly assure him and thank him for catching you. that moment replays in your minds for the reminder of the day.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

not only intimate touches but longing gazes at each other when one isn’t looking. private conversations began taking place, learning about one another. what occurred after your friendship ended. your journey to queenship, miguel’s training, changes in both your families. you rekindle your friendship.

the more time you spent together, feelings began forming. feelings that one should not feel, especially between a queen and her knight. you try burying those feelings. the last thing you want is ruining this relationship, make things awkward. it’s strictly a professional one yet those feelings prove otherwise.

you couldn’t allow these feelings to consume you, distract you from your duties. you shouldn’t feel these feelings towards miguel, your personal bodyguard. it’s forbidden, a queen can’t fall in love with her knight. it goes against royal morals. however, you can’t deny your heart. those feelings are something you’ve never experienced before with any man. miguel demonstrates what it’s like to long for someone. being around him, you feel safe and happy. he’s the only man to make your heart race and fill your belly with butterflies when he looks down at you or leaves gentle touches on your skin.

even after 10 years, he still has an effect on you.

miguel, on the other hand, is on the verge of insanity. he knows he shouldn’t feel those feelings for you, his queen. the woman he admires and cherishes since childhood. the same woman he vowed to protect with every fiber of his being. a queen and a knight don’t belong together, a forbidden relationship. of course he is aware of this issue. those feelings are forbidden but no matter how hard he fought against them, battling with his inner thoughts for days, his feelings for you only grew stronger.

during a private getaway at a reserved villa, you and miguel take a stroll among the lakeside. no one but you two, complete privacy. other guards remain at the villa. while you babble about childhood memories of the lake, miguel is admiring you the entire time. the lake dress you’re wearing makes his heart flutter, cheeks blushed. how could you look more beautiful? he swears he must be in heaven. walking alongside an angel by a lake sounds so dreamy. miguel mesmerized by your beauty once again.

you return to the balcony where it showcases the lake and mountains. leaning against the stone fence, you look outward towards the beautiful view of the lake. miguel stands beside you, briefly admiring the lake before turning his attention back at the true beautiful sight. the sweet, angelic tone of your voice smooths his workaholic mind. pure music to his ears. everything about you calms him.

those feelings began bubbling in his chest as he continues admiring you. he can’t help it you look so ethereal in the vibrant sunlight, the gentle breeze flowing in your hair. god he wants to give into the temptations but he knows he shouldn’t.

but all self-restraint flies out the window the moment you turn and look up at him with those gorgeous eyes he loves so dearly.

you two stare at each other, lost in one’s eyes. the doorway to the soul. both your hearts pounding your chests. the soft waves of the lake and birds chirping in the background. your heart flutters as you watch his gaze fall to your lips. those exact lips that have been taunting him for weeks in his sleep.

very slowly, miguel starts leaning towards your face. or more so, bending down a little due to the height difference. his back will hate him afterwards but miguel doesn’t care at this moment. he moves very slowly, hesitantly to give you space to move away.

but you don’t.

you feel frozen, utterly mesmerized by those soft brown eyes. your breathing grows heavy as you watch him lean closer towards you with fluttering lashes. your faces are only cemeteries apart, lips brushed against each other, eyes fluttering.

then finally, your lips collide.

the mark of your sin.

wow, his lips feel incredible. but yours, oh miguel is losing his mind. so soft and sweet. a divine taste that leaves a man yearning for more. your lips intertwined a passionate kiss. seeking for more, miguel changes the angle with a head tilt and applies a little pressure into the kiss. he holds back a groan when he hears a soft moan from you due to the pressure. unable to resist any longer, his tongue licks your lips for passage. you happily oblige and he doesn’t waste a moment to slip his tongue past your lips, eliciting another heavenly moan from you.

your lips intertwined in a dance. relishing the feeling of each others’s lips. his plump ones against your soft ones. the kiss is so passionate, you feel very floaty. he takes you away to cloud nine. the stress of being a queen and the assassination vanishes from your mind. his lips takes it away.

then, realization kills the moment.

no, you can’t do this. it’s an overstep of your relationship as bodyguard and client. queen and knight. but what you’re truly afraid is being caught, another pair of eyes lurking from afar.

much to yours and miguel’s disappointment, you break away from the kiss and avoid his gaze.

“no… i should never have done that.” you spoke barely above a whisper.

miguel is taken aback by the sudden change of heart. not even a minute has passed and he misses your lips against his. but he realizes what has happened and he has never been so disappointed in himself. he allowed those temptations to consume him and look at the result. you turn away from him and feel ashamed, the one feeling he never wants to make you feel about yourself. you mean so much to him.

“lo siento, mi reina…” hint of regret and shame in his tone, making your heart ache.

there no intimate touches or moments after that. however, those restrictions only lasted a day.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

during one night, after having internal battles with yourself about your feelings for miguel and the consequences, you finally accepted your heart.

for once, you allow your heart to speak.

during this past month under his protection, spending every minute with him, you fell in love with your gentle knight. you love miguel and only want him. he has stolen your heart.

slipping on your silky robe and walking down the hallway, you head to miguel’s bedroom. standing in front of the door, a few inches away from it opening by itself, you stare it as your heart races in both excitement and anxiety. you’re about to confess your love for your charming knight. the man who has been by your side, protecting and caring for you.

inhaling a deep breath, you take a step forward and the door slides open. upon hearing the door open, miguel quickly walks over to see who is visiting him at this hour but stops when he sees you.

“mi reina, ¿que pasa? are you unwell? is there something wrong?” he asks with each step he takes towards you. a huge concern look on his face.

his worries fade away when you shake your head but he’s still curious about your sudden arrival.

“i need to speak to you.”

now he grew more curious but also a bit anxious. stepping to the side, miguel allows you entry to his private quarters. flashing a small smile as a thanks, you pass by him and walk towards the bed.

“what is it you wish to speak to me about, mi reina?” miguel asks softly as he follows you, standing behind you since your back is to him.

it’s silent for a moment. the anticipation lingers in the air. if you had advanced hearing, you’d hear both of your racing hearts. pounding like a drum.

“té quiero.”

those three words linger in the air. miguel is speechless, eyes wide and lips slightly agape. heart fluttering at your confession. a confession he has been dreaming since the beginning. a confession he reciprocates, wanting to share his own.

slowly turning around, you nervously meet his gaze. “i know i shouldn’t have these feelings for you… but i don’t care, not one bit.”

miguel remains speechless also enthralled. you feel the same. you long for him just as he longs for you. however, the fear still lingers.

“pero… the consequences? the scandal? it would ruin your reign.” miguel does not want to jeopardize your legacy, your reign as queen simply because of him. you’ve been an incredible monarch, serving the people of nueva york. betraying their trust because of your love for him is something he can’t allow.

“i can’t deny my heart.” you say softly.

fuck. his heart did a summersault. his love for you blossoms more than ever before.

“mi reina, ever since i was a child, i’ve always loved and cared you.” miguel takes a step closer, closing the remaining space between you two. “you consume my thoughts everyday. i can’t hide my true feelings for you anymore.”

your heart flutters, a warm sensation flowing through your body. slowly raising your hands, you gently cup his face. “then let’s not hide them anymore.”

miguel leans closer and you stand on your tippy toes, your lips meet once again in a passionate kiss. his large held your smaller shoulders, holding them as if they’re delicate. his gently grips on your robe, a silent ask. he feels you nod and he slowly pulls of your robe, exposing your shoulders but taking it off completely. it quietly drops onto the floor, pooling at your feet. now you’re left in your silky white nightgown. his heart flutters at the feeling of your soft skin. his hands slowly move down your back, settling on your waist. you shiver at the sensation, goosebumps forming on your skin. wrapping your arms around his bulky shoulders, your fingers dig into his hair. that elicited a muffled groan from him.

giving into his desires, miguel sought to deepen the kiss, altering the angle. it becomes more heated, sneaking a bit of pressure which elicits a soft moan from you. his lips leaves yours, brushing kisses along your jawline then to your neck. your mouth hangs slightly open, soft sighs spilling from your lips at the sensation. broad hands roam over your back, gently groping your curves through your nightdress. you melt under his touch, growing putty in his hold.

“miguel…” you whisper breathlessly.

he softly grunts in response, mind hazy from how heavenly his name sounds from your lips. continuing leaving kisses on your delicate neck as his hands continue roaming over your soft body. miguel is practically going insane of finally touching you, having you in his arms after years of longing.

“make love to me.”

before you even know it, you find yourselves on the bed. you resting on the plush mattress and miguel hovering over you, positioned in between your legs. your fingers dig into his chocolate locks while his hands gently grope your curves as you continue your passionate makeout session. his lips kiss every inch of exposed skin. from your jawline, your neck, down to your chest. a soft moan escapes you as his lips suck where your nipples would be through your nightdress. with consent, miguel gingerly removes your silky nightdress, leaving you bare to his gaze. your white panties as the only source preventing you from being completely bare to his eyes.

miguel takes his time worshiping your soft delicate breasts. kissing, licking, kneading them with such tenderness. almost experimentally. his tongue swirling and flickering your perky sensitive nipple. his plump lips sucking on it. each action rewards him with those heavenly moans of yours. music to his ears. miguel shows same affection towards your soft tummy, adoring it with kisses and licks.

with your consent, your panties were removed and now completely bare to your handsome lover.

miguel doesn’t hesitate and dives into the fountain of youth in between your legs. the room is filled with your moans and whimpers, the sounds of pleasure miguel was providing you. his tongue ravishes your wet core so experimentally. reaching those spots you’ve never knew existed, making you arch your back. as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy, miguel devours every drop of your sweet nectar, drinking as if it’s an oasis. this man made you feel things you never felt before, so revolutionary.

once he removes his clothes and is bare, he settles in between your legs once again. your mouth falls open as his thick length slowly sides through your tight, wet walls. there were a few pauses in between, allowing yourself to adjust to his larger than average size. once he’s completely settled inside, you couldn’t hold back a soft moan. the bulbous tip of his cock rests against that sweet spot inside.

with a slow rock of his hips, a soft moan erupts form your throat. pleasure consumes both your bodies, your minds dazed. your tight walls squeeze his cock, making the man groan in pleasure. your nails leaving marks and idents on his muscular back as miguel continuously thrusts into you slowly. his bulbous tip repeatedly hitting your cervix, making you arch your back off the sheets. the mixture of your moans and his grunts mingle in the air. the four walls of the bedroom concealing your love-making session.

miguel softly whispers words of praise to you that makes your mind floaty. how beautiful you look as you take him so well. he relishes your expressions of pleasure, gazing at the angel underneath him. god you look even more ethereal. he can finally worship you properly. ecstasy consumes you entirely that you can only respond with whimpers and moans. he leaves soft kisses on your neck as he continues thrusting. your hands interlocked together, gently pressed against the pillow beside your head as your love-making progresses.

as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy for the second time, you coat miguel’s cock with your sweet nectar. he follows suit not long after, releasing his thick seed deep in your womb, painting your walls white. a shared moan echoes in the air as you both climaxed. you softly pant in unison as you both come down from the peak of pleasure.

you wake up the next morning in the arms of your handsome lover. the beginning of your love affair.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

a secret relationship.

you and miguel continue this forbidden love affair for a few months. holding hands when one wasn’t looking. sharing intimate moments when alone. passionate kisses here and there. reoccurring nights of love-making in your bedroom. it was pure love.

the love was so strong you two married in secret. at the lake house where you shared your first kiss. the only witnesses were your trusted handmaiden lyla and miguel’s younger brother gabriel.

you knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with miguel and he wanted to spend it with you. even though the marriage is a secret, you’re forever together. once your reign is over and a new queen is elected, you and miguel will be able to live a free life.

the assassin was found but miguel remained as your permanent bodyguard, by your request. life in nueva york continued thriving until a conflict with another city ended it. the military was preparing for war, which included miguel since he was a general. you plead for him to not go, even thought about convincing captain stacy to not allow miguel to participate in the war but you know you can’t do that.

miguel eases your worries, holding you in his arms with a protective yet comforting grip. a hand gently stroking your hair as he calms you.

“i’ll return to you, mi reina. i promise you.”

with one final kiss, his eyes bore into yours, large hands cupping your tear stained cheeks. it pains him to leave you. to see tears trailing your angelic face. tears that he caused, it’s a stab to the heart. he can’t breathe without you. miguel doesn’t to go fight off in war but unfortunately it’s his duty, especially since he’s a general. but he promises to return to you.

“té amo.”

with that, you watch him walk away. tears trailing down your flushed cheeks. you want him to stay, by your side, but he has a duty to do and you have yours. all you can pray is for his safe return.

it’s been a week since miguel left for war. a week deprived of his love. during private moments, you speak to each other through holograms. he informs you with updates on the war. it’s still a long shot but there is progress. hopefully it’ll end soon.

one morning, you wake up with nausea. bolting to the restroom, you unleash that ugly feeling into the toilet. after cleaning up yourself, many thoughts invade your mind. what could possibly upset your stomach like that? was it the food you ate from last night’s dinner? no, dinner was delicious. are you ill? none of your handmaidens or staff members haven’t caught anything, at least what you know.

then, another scenario pops up.

you haven’t bled in a while. in fact, you might’ve passed the prediction date for your next cycle.

could you possible be…?

thankfully for the advanced technology you have, getting an answer would be easy. after doing a test with the help of your personal med droid, your eyes widen in shock at the results.

pregnant.

you’re pregnant, with miguel’s child.

part of you feels elastic about having a child with your secret husband. but the other part of you realizes how jeopardizing this would be.

a child with your personal bodyguard? that would cause the court to break out into chaos.

the scandal would threaten the crown.

you only have a year until your term is over and a new queen will be elected. however, that’s a year. it’ll only be a matter of time until your belly grows. hiding it is the only solution. from the court, handmaidens, staff and family members. the only person you would tell is lyla, your childhood best friend and loyal companion. she knows you like the back of her hand. you trust her completely with this shocking reveal.

unfortunately, you won’t be able to tell miguel until he returns from the war. and who knows how long that will be. you pray it ends soon and he returns.

until then, you have to keep another secret.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

four months has passed and the war has finally ended. the streets of nueva york cheer and celebrate now that peace has finally been restored.

it also means miguel is returning.

excitement flows through your veins. your husband finally returns home and you can’t wait to be in his arms after four months of deprivation. also, to share news of your unborn child. during these past four months, you’ve been wearing large gowns to conceal your swollen belly. luckily, no one has suspected.

dressed in a white silk cloak to hide you four month belly, you rush down the halls to greet your husband and father of your unborn child. oh how you missed him so much. it’s quite unbelievable how you managed to life without him for four months. without him by your side, without his touch, his comfort.

as you rush down the hall, you spot a figure tall figure dresses in black towards the end. your heart skips a beat, a smile forming on your face.

just as you reach him, your steps slow down and your enthusiasm dies down as you look up confusingly at the man in front of you. it’s miguel but he looks… different. normally when he’s with you, he has a gentle smile on his face. instead, it’s a scowl. furrowed thick brows and lips flat. he’s not even looking at you, instead the ground. he hasn’t even acknowledged your presence yet.

this confuses you. why is he behaving like this? cold, silent, angry. maybe the war has done some damage, it’s expected. but you expect him to overjoyed to see you as you are with him. those calls through holograms were prove. how badly he wanted to return to you and stay with you. seeked for your touch, longing to return to your arms.

now he has return and is the complete opposite.

“miguel…?”

taking a step closer, a soft gasp escapes your lips when his eyes finally meet yours. a horrified expression on your face.

his eyes are red. glowing and pierce.

you don’t recognize him. his eyes were brown like coco beans. sometimes stern but always soft when they meet yours. this time, red like blood and full of rage. the longer you stare, fear settles in. a feeling you never wished to feel when you look into his eyes.

his lips part open and your breath hitches. it’s unclear if you’re imagining things, but you saw a glimpse of fangs. pearly white fangs.

this can’t be your miguel. your husband. the father of your unborn child.

what happened to him?

who did this to him?

then, those red eyes soften. the scowl vanished, replaced with the old soft, loving expression he always had reserved for you.

“mi reina.”

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @lazyjellyfish300 ( just for you, queen ! )

#⠀꒰⠀𝜗𝜚 ֺ 𓂂⠀꒱⠀﹕⠀𝒪𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡⠀.ᐟ⠀#miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o’hara angst #across the spiderverse

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idyllic-ghost · 2 months ago

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Title: The Prophet and His Muse Pairing: greek god!woozi x reincarnated lover!fem!reader Genre: romance, angst, fluff, smut, romance, fantasy, soulmate au, reincarnation au, deity au Wordcount: 11k Rating: 18+

Synopsis: In a world where ancient myths whisper through the fabric of modern life, a poignant tale of love and redemption unfolds. A god reunited with his eternal love. As this ancient bond stirs to life, he must navigate the delicate interplay between myth and reality—striving to rekindle a romance that defies time and embraces destiny’s call.

Warnings: angst, character death, reincarnation, fluffy smut, slight exhibitionism, reader is afab, mentions of food, mentions of wanting kids

A/N: so happy to finally post this fic for @beomcoups's and @wooahaeproductions' collab - see the Thirteen Gods of Olympus masterlist here!

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

MDNI: Adults only. Minors are not allowed. Any minors found will be blocked.

Join my taglist // Masterlists

Prologue: Golden Shadows

You sit on the edge of the bed, the cool linens draped around your naked frame, watching as Apollo’s fingers dance delicately over the strings of his golden lyre. The soft, melodic notes fill the room, mingling with the last rays of the setting sun that bathe everything in a warm, golden glow. The heat from the day still clings to the air, wrapping the room in an intimate cocoon.

Rising slowly, you let the linens slide around you like a silken robe as you step toward him. Your voice, barely above a whisper, drifts through the melody. "Won’t you come back to bed?"

Apollo’s eyes meet yours, a tender smile playing on his lips. Some of his golden locks fall over his forehead, and you reach out to brush them back with your fingers. Your hand lingers on his cheek, and Apollo leans into your touch. He sets the lyre aside, the music hanging in the air like a fragrant memory. Rising gracefully, he takes your hand and places it on his bare chest. You let your hand travel up his warm skin before wrapping your arms around his neck. His forehead rests against yours, and he closes his eyes as if to savor the moment.

"Please?" you repeat softly. "I don’t get much time with you."

Without a word, Apollo scoops you into his arms, lifting you as though you weigh nothing. You feel the strength and warmth of his embrace, your heart quickening in response. He carries you to the bed, laying you down with a reverence that speaks of a love transcending time. Apollo settles beside you, easing past the linens covering your figure to press his bare skin against yours.

You move together in perfect harmony, your love a silent conversation. The golden light of the sunset wraps around you, turning your world into a haven of softness and desire. As the sun dips below the horizon, you are lost in each other, your bodies entwined, your souls connecting.

"You're enchanting, my flower," he whispers, his lips brushing the delicate skin of your neck. "In your presence, the loveliest hymns dance through my mind."

He leans over you, his gaze deep and unwavering as he looks into your eyes. With one hand, he reaches out to touch your cheek, his warm palm caressing your soft skin with a silken touch. "I don’t mean to take my attention off of you."

"I suppose I can allow it," you answer playfully, a smile tugging at your lips. "Only if you promise to stay with me now and until morning."

Instead of answering, he draws closer, his breath mingling with yours. His lips meet yours in a kiss that begins gently, a tender brush that sends shivers down your spine. As the kiss deepens, his other hand finds its way to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. His kiss grows more passionate, his lips moving with a soft urgency, tasting and exploring. Your hearts beat in unison, each throb echoing the intensity of the moment. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, entwined in a timeless embrace, lost in the rapture of a kiss that promises forever.

"I am consumed by you, my love," he whispers as he pulls away from the kiss, trying to catch his breath. His eyes, dark with desire, bore into yours, searching for the same fire he feels burning within himself.

You cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "And I by you," you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion. "Every moment with you feels like a beautiful dream I never want to wake from."

He smiles, a soft, tender smile that makes your heart flutter. "Then let’s never wake," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let’s stay in this dream, where time stands still and nothing else matters but us."

You nod, pulling him closer once more. As your lips meet again, the world outside ceases to exist. The night wraps around you like a velvet cloak, and in that moment, all that matters is the love you share, burning brightly in the dark.

When at last you lie spent, the stars begin to twinkle like diamonds in the velvet night sky. Apollo brushes a tender kiss against your forehead. "I promise to stay with you until morning," he murmurs, his voice a soothing lullaby that melts into the silence of the night.

You nestle closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, your heart brimming with contentment and love. His scent envelops you, a blend of earth and spice, grounding you in the moment. The world outside ceases to exist. It is just the two of you, cocooned in a timeless embrace, held together by a love as eternal and unchanging as the stars above.

His fingers trace lazy circles on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Every touch, every whispered word, binds you closer. The night air is cool against your heated skin, a contrast that heightens your senses, making you acutely aware of every breath, every heartbeat.

You look up at him, his eyes reflecting the starlight, filled with a promise that transcends words. He smiles, and it feels like the universe unfolding just for you. The night cradles you both gently, a sanctuary where time stands still, and you drift into dreams knowing you are cherished beyond measure.

Chapter 1: Echoes of a Memory

Jihoon stirs awake, the rain’s steady tap against the windowpane weaves a mournful lullaby. The room, bathed in the somber gray of the overcast morning, is cloaked in a cold, desolate light that seeps through the curtains, transforming every corner into a silent witness to his solitude. The apartment stands bare, a ghostly echo of the warmth and vibrancy that once defined his life.

“Y/N?” he whispers, his voice hoarse with dreams and yearning. The answer is a void, an echo of silence that wraps around him like a shroud. His hand reaches out to the empty space beside him, feeling the familiar sting of her absence.

With a weary sigh, Jihoon pushes himself up and retrieves his phone from the nightstand. As he unlocks it, a new email notification blinks at him, its presence a tiny spark in the dimness. He opens it, his heart pounding in time with the rain’s steady rhythm:

“Dear Mr. Lee,

Thank you for your generous donation. We would be honored to invite you to visit our institute at your earliest convenience. We are eager to discuss future collaborations...”

He doesn't bother to read the rest. A faint smile touches Jihoon’s lips, a fragile glimmer in his otherwise monochrome world. The prospect of seeing Y/N again breathes a tentative hope into his chest, a whisper of joy amidst the pervasive gloom. He can almost hear your laughter, feel the warmth of your presence.

He sets the phone down, the smile lingering like a delicate shadow, and moves toward the window. Pulling the curtains aside, he gazes out at the relentless rain, its steady fall a poignant reminder of the emptiness he endures. Yet now, amidst the gray, there is a flicker of something more—an ember of hope that dares to illuminate the path ahead.

He will visit the music institute. He will see her again. And in that fragile hope, there lies the possibility that she may indeed be you.

Jihoon walks through the entrance of the local university’s music institute, the air buzzing with a mix of creativity and academia. He’s even gone so far as to dress up for the occasion—skipping his usual black ensemble of oversized shirts, shorts, and slippers, for a more sophisticated button-down and trousers. Students hurry past with instruments and sheet music, their conversations a background symphony of youthful energy. Some of them give him a double look, whispering amongst themselves. He can feel their music, rhythmically beating as they go about their day. For a moment, he lets go of the barrier he builds up between himself and others, allowing the melodies of their futures to play through his mind. He’s completely entranced by the feeling that he doesn’t see the person walking towards him. An administrator, a middle-aged woman with an eager smile, greets him warmly.

“Woozi—Mr. Lee, it’s such an honor to have you here,” she says, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “I’ve been a fan of your music for years, we’re so excited to have you. Let me show you around.”

As they walk through the hallways, she points out various rooms—practice spaces, classrooms, and performance halls. Jihoon listens politely, nodding and occasionally asking questions, but his thoughts are elsewhere. He’s eager to see Y/N, the professor he’s heard so much about.

Finally, they reach a spacious room with large windows that let in the afternoon light. Instruments of all kinds line the walls, and students sit in clusters, discussing music theory and composition. Y/N stands by one of the groups, her presence commanding yet kind. The administrator walks over to her, tapping her on her shoulder to get her attention.

“Professor, this is Mr. Lee,” the administrator introduces him with pride.

Y/N turns, and Jihoon feels his breath catch. She looks so just like you—the same grace, the same spark in her eyes. She extends her hand, a warm smile on her lips.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Lee,” she says. “Your support means a lot to us.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Jihoon replies, shaking her hand. He can’t help but stare, his mind awash with memories.

The administrator, sensing the moment, excuses herself. “I’ll leave you two to talk. If you need anything, I’ll be just outside.”

As the door closed behind her, Jihoon chuckled, breaking the ice. “I think she was about to ask for an autograph.”

Y/N laughs a melodic sound that sends a jolt of nostalgia through him. “She probably was. You have quite a fan base here.”

Jihoon smiles, feeling a warmth he hasn’t felt in a long time. “It’s nice to know my music is appreciated. But enough about me—I want to hear about your work here.”

They talk for a while, their conversation flowing effortlessly. Jihoon finds himself captivated by her passion for teaching and her genuine love for music. As they speak, he feels a connection, a sense of familiarity that goes beyond the present moment.

For the first time in decades, Jihoon feels a spark of hope. Perhaps, he’s actually found you again.

Chapter 2: Symphony of the Sun

The garden basks in the golden glow of a summer afternoon, where sunlight spills like liquid amber through the canopy of a grand orange tree. The air, rich with the heady perfume of blooming flowers and sun-warmed citrus, drapes around you like a fragrant embrace.

You and Apollo lounge beneath the tree’s sprawling boughs, its ancient branches casting a protective, dappled shade. The leaves murmur softly in the breeze, their whispers blending with the distant songs of nature, creating a lullaby of tranquility.

Apollo’s eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint as he plucks a plump, sun-kissed orange from a low-hanging branch. He cradles it in his hands, studying its ripe, glossy skin with an almost reverent gaze.

A smile curves on your lips as Apollo’s thumb presses into the fruit; the sharp, tangy aroma of citrus bursts forth, mingling with the garden’s sweet floral symphony. With a flick of his wrist, he begins to peel the orange, and in an unexpected burst of citrus, a stream of golden juice arcs through the air, landing with a soft splash upon your cheek.

You gasp in surprise, your eyes widening before laughter spills from your lips, bright and unrestrained. “Look at what you’ve done!” you exclaim, your voice a melody of delight.

Apollo’s grin widens, his laughter melding with yours in a harmonious duet. “Let me help you,” he offers, leaning in with tender intent. His lips graze your cheek, his tongue softly tracing the path of the sweet juice.

Your laughter subsides into a gentle smile, your heart swelling with a profound, loving warmth. “You always know how to make me laugh,” you murmur, your voice a tender whisper that lingers in the golden light.

Apollo’s gaze holds a deep, unwavering tenderness as he pulls back slightly, his fingers still glistening with remnants of orange juice. “And you always know how to make me happy,” he responds, his eyes reflecting a love that seems to glow from within.

As you share the orange, Apollo feeds you each succulent piece with a playful grace, your laughter spilling freely as more juice dribbles down your chins. The simple joy of the moment, wrapped in the warmth of your shared affection, lifts your hearts in a dance of delight.

With the afternoon sun casting intricate patterns of light through the tree’s leaves, you and Apollo savor the serene beauty of the moment. It becomes a cherished fragment of time, a golden memory to treasure long after the orange trees have shed their fruit and summer’s warmth has faded. In the garden’s tranquil embrace, surrounded by nature’s gentle symphony, you are two souls entwined in a love that feels as eternal as the sun-dappled day itself.

The room is cloaked in shadows, the only light coming from Jihoon’s computer screen. Rain patters against the windows, a somber symphony that matches the turmoil in his heart. Will it ever stop raining? Jihoon sits hunched over his desk, tears streaming down his face as he struggles to contain the overwhelming grief.

Memories of his lover’s death flash through his mind—your final moments, the helplessness he felt, the crushing sense of loss that had never truly left him. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, but the tears keep coming, blurring his vision and deepening his despair.

His phone buzzes on the desk, breaking through the haze of his sorrow. It’s a message from his manager, yet another demand for new material for his upcoming album. Jihoon stares at the screen, his frustration bubbling up. He didn’t have the energy to argue, and the constant pressure was becoming unbearable.

With a heavy heart, he types a reply, his fingers trembling. “Fine. I’ll start working on it,” he writes, feeling a hollow resignation as he hits send. Agreeing to his manager’s demands feels like a betrayal of his own emotions, but he has no choice.

He looks out over his apartment. The room still feels cold despite the progress he’s made in unpacking. Boxes now lay open, their contents partially arranged around the room, but there’s an air of impatience and frustration hanging over him.

He looks back at his laptop, a video paused on the screen. It was of Y/N, gracefully playing the harp. It’s the video that got him interested in the university he donated to in the first place. He presses play, and the delicate notes fill the room—transporting him back to a time long ago when he had taught you to play the lyre. The memories are vivid; from the way your fingers would fumble at first, to when you finally found your confidence as you mastered each chord.

Sighing, Jihoon runs a hand through his hair. The thought of his manager’s text appears in his mind again. He only has one song left on the album, but every time he sits down to write his mind goes blank. The writer’s block is suffocating, a relentless weight that grows heavier with each passing day.

The video ends and Jihoon presses replay, watching Y/N’s fingers glide over the strings—her expression serene and focused. A pang of longing shot through him. She’s so different, yet so familiar. He needs to see her, to talk to her—about anything that could reignite his creativity.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Jihoon opens his email and begins to type.

“Dear Professor Y/L/N,

I hope this message finds you well. I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation and the inspiration I felt afterward. Your music and your passion have stayed with me.

I’m struggling with my next album and could use your guidance. Would you be available to meet sometime soon? I believe that discussing music with you might help me find my way again.

Looking forward to your response.

Best regards, Lee Jihoon”

He pauses, his fingers hovering over the send button. The room seems to hold it, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. Finally, with a deep sigh, he sends the email, a flicker of hope piercing through the darkness.

Jihoon leans back in his chair, the tears slowly subsiding. He glances around the room, the shadows no longer seeming as oppressive. As the rain continues to fall outside, Jihoon allows himself a moment of quiet reflection. He knows the journey ahead will be difficult, but for the first time in a long while, he feels a glimmer of possibility, a hint of light in the darkness.

The forest surrounding you is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves. Apollo sits with you on a blanket spread across the grass, the tranquil waters of the lake reflecting the serene beauty of the moment.

Apollo hands you his golden lyre, his fingers brushing against yours as he does so. “Now, remember what I showed you,” he says, his voice soft and encouraging.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tentatively plucking at the strings. A few hesitant notes fill the air, mingling with the encouraging sounds of nature. Apollo watches you intently, his eyes filled with admiration and love

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “You’re doing wonderfully.”

With each note, your confidence grew. You glance up at Apollo, a smile tugging at your lips. His praise and gentle guidance make you feel invincible. You begin to play a simple, the notes flowing more smoothly with each attempt.

Apollo leans closer, his arms enveloping you, his presence warm and comforting. “Let’s try something together,” he suggests.

His hands cradle the lyre with yours, its unfamiliar weight making the notes stumble and falter, sparking a cascade of laughter between you. Yet Apollo persists, his fingers weaving a delicate tapestry of sound across the strings. You watch, mesmerized by his effortless grace, his skill transforming each note into a tender caress.

As the music entwines, it swirls around you like a gentle embrace, filling the clearing with a melodious harmony that dances with the rustling leaves and whispering breeze. Apollo leans his chin softly on your shoulder, his presence both grounding and soothing. Your fingers waver, losing their surety beneath the weight of his affection. You surrender to the warmth of his chest, letting the lyre fall to your lap as you lean into him, lost in the serenity of the moment.

Taking over, Apollo plays with a subtle, soulful passion, each note a testament to his mastery. The music flows like liquid gold, filling the space with its beauty. After a while, he returns the lyre to you, his fingers brushing yours in a fleeting touch that sends a shiver down your spine.

You finish the final notes, the melody soft and lingering, while Apollo’s lips trail gentle kisses along the curve of your neck. Each kiss is a whisper of affection, a silent promise woven into the tender music of the evening.

As the final notes fade, Apollo smiles at you, his eyes shining with pride. “You’re incredible,” he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You blush, your heart swelling with affection. “I had a good teacher,” you reply, your tone flirtatious.

You turn your head to meet his gaze, and Apollo moves with an elegant grace, his forehead resting softly against yours. The world around you seems to still, the air thick with the tender intimacy of the moment. He pulls back just a breath, his touch delicate as he raises one hand to your face, his fingertips brushing your skin with the gentlest of caresses.

With a loving precision, he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch as light as a feather, tracing the curve of your cheek. His eyes, deep and expressive, linger on your lips with a tender reverence.

“I could stay here forever with you,” he murmurs, his voice a soft, melodious whisper that seems to drift on the evening breeze, carrying with it the promise of eternity.

Before you can respond, a distant voice calls out your name. You sigh, your expression reluctantly turning serious. “I have to go,” you say, getting out of his embrace and standing up before handing the lyre back to your lover.

He takes it, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer. “Will you come back to me soon?” he asks, his voice tinged with longing.

You nod, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I promise,” you whisper.

As you turn to leave, Apollo’s gaze follows you with a mixture of longing and bittersweet affection. His heart, though full of love, aches with an almost palpable desire to draw you nearer, to keep you forever within his reach. He remains rooted in the clearing, a solitary figure bathed in the soft, fading light of dusk. A lovesick smile plays on his lips, his eyes still glowing with the warmth of the moments shared. The echoes of your music and the lingering touch of your hand haunt him like a sweet, entrancing dream, leaving an indelible mark on his soul.

The twilight deepens, casting long shadows that mingle with the growing night, while you drift into your dreams, wrapped in the comfort of your shared affection. Unbeknownst to you, as the two of you are enveloped in the sanctuary of your loving reveries, vengeful eyes peer from the darkness, their gaze cold and unyielding. The unseen observer watches with a quiet malice, their presence a dark contrast to the serene bliss you and Apollo cherish.

Chapter 3: Warmth of the Sun

You rouse from an unexpected nap, your senses gradually reconnecting with the ambient sounds of your modest office at the institute. The hum of the air conditioner, the distant murmur of conversation, and the rhythmic clacking of keyboards slowly pull you back to consciousness. Blinking away the remnants of sleep and smoothing your disheveled hair, you instinctively reach for your phone. An email notification from the singer who had recently graced the university’s halls catches your eye.

Curiosity piqued and cheeks tinged with a hint of fluster, you gather your composure and walk over to a colleague’s desk. Amidst the soft glow of computer screens and the rustling of papers, you share the intriguing news of Jihoon’s email. Your voice carries a blend of excitement and uncertainty, betraying the flutter of emotions you feel.

“Lee Jihoon wants to meet and discuss music,” you announce, your words spilling out as you pass your phone to your colleague. The screen displays Jihoon’s message, succinct yet promising.

Your colleague reads through the email with a raised eyebrow, a look of mild surprise crossing their face. They nod slowly, their expression a mix of interest and amusement. “He’s quite the character, isn’t he?” they comment, their tone tinged with playful intrigue.

You nod in agreement, a complex swirl of emotions stirring within you. “Yes, he certainly is…”

“I think you should take him up on his offer,” your colleague suggests, their eyes alight with encouragement. “It’s a unique opportunity, might be a good for networking.”

Taking a deep breath, you allow their words to settle. The sterile office space seems to momentarily dissolve, replaced by fleeting memories of citrus scents and the warmth of a special touch. The thought evokes a gentle sense of nostalgia and anticipation.

“You’re right,” you reply softly, a newfound resolve firming within you.

With that, you return to your desk, the soft, curious energy of the moment lingering in the air. As you compose your response to Jihoon’s email, the anticipation of what lies ahead envelops you, and the office around you seems to hum with a newfound promise.

After noticing the late hour, you gather your things and make your way out of the institute. The city outside is bathed in the soft, golden hues of early evening, the setting sun casting long shadows across the streets. You move through the bustling crowd with a quiet sense of anticipation, your mind still buzzing with the implications of Jihoon’s email.

Arriving home, you slip into the comforting sanctuary of your apartment. The familiar sounds of the city fade into the background, replaced by the serene quiet of your personal space. You let out a sigh of relief, the day’s stress slowly unwinding as you step into your cozy, dimly lit living room.

You prepare for bed after a quick dinner. The rhythmic ritual of winding down feels both calming and reassuring. You brush your teeth and change into comfortable pajamas, the softness of the fabric a soothing contrast to the day's formal attire. The scent of citrus from the diffuser fills the air.

In the solitude of your bedroom, you settle into your bed, the cool sheets embracing you as you pull them up to your chin. Your laptop is set aside on the nightstand, Jihoon’s email now a tangible part of your thoughts. The gentle hum of a distant city sounds outside your window is a comforting backdrop as you lie back and allow your mind to wander.

As you turn off the bedside lamp, the room darkens to a soothing twilight, the soft glow of streetlights casting faint patterns on the walls. You close your eyes, and Jihoon’s message drifts to the forefront of your thoughts. His words replay in your mind, each one imbued with the promise of new possibilities and the allure of an encounter yet to come.

You find yourself imagining the meeting, the possibilities of what might unfold. The prospect of discussing music with him, hearing his thoughts and ideas, fills you with a quiet excitement. The tenderness of his email and the enigmatic charm he exudes blend into a wistful reverie.

As you drift closer to sleep, your thoughts are a tapestry of anticipation and curiosity. Jihoon’s face, his smile, and the gentle tone of his voice become part of your dreams. The promise of a future conversation wraps around you like a soft, comforting blanket, and soon, you are lulled into a peaceful slumber, the echoes of Jihoon’s words weaving through your dreams.

You find yourself in a lavish bedroom adorned with silk drapes and flickering oil lamps. You stand by an open window, the moon casting a silvery glow over the room. As you gaze out, a figure materializes before you: Jihoon?– no, this is someone different… you can feel it. The man stands tall and radiant. You feel a magnetic pull towards him, your heart racing with a mixture of awe and desire.

“Apollo,” you whisper instinctively, your voice filled with longing and recognition. The man who looks like Jihoon meets your gaze with a tender smile, his eyes reflecting centuries of longing and a love that transcends time. Slowly, he steps closer, his presence enveloping you in warmth and familiarity. His fingers brush against your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. The world around you seems to fade, leaving just the two of you bathed in the moonlight.

As you stand inches apart, the intensity of the moment is palpable. Jihoon’s hand gently caresses your face, and you close your eyes, savoring the touch that feels both new and ancient. The air is thick with unspoken emotions and the promise of something profound.

You awaken suddenly, back in your bedroom. The soft glow of your bedside lamp illuminates the familiar surroundings: a cluttered desk, shelves lined with books, and a faint scent of something ambrosial in the air. Your heart still races from the vivid dream. Had that really been Jihoon? Why were you suddenly dreaming of gods? A mix of confusion and fascination floods your senses. Your cheeks are burning as you realize that you’re going to have to face the man you had such an intimate dream about in just a couple of days.

In the dimly lit ambiance of his studio, Jihoon sits at his desk, the soft glow of his computer screen casting a gentle light on his face. The room is filled with the subtle scent of coffee and the distant hum of city life outside his window. After hours of trying to work, he unlocks his phone to see if he has any messages. His heart skips a beat as he sees Y/N’s email reply, her words filled with warmth and a hint of excitement.

Feeling a surge of hope and renewed affection, Jihoon leans back in his chair, a smile spreading across his features. He reads her message again, savoring each word as if discovering a precious treasure. Her playful tone and genuine interest radiate through the screen, reigniting memories of past conversations and shared moments.

The anticipation of their upcoming meeting fills him with nervous energy. He envisions your face, the sound of your laughter, and the warmth of your presence—even if she’s not you, he lets himself dream.

With a decisive nod, Jihoon sets his plans in motion. His fingers tap eagerly on the keyboard as he arranges the details, asking her to meet him at a café near campus. The late-night hours pass swiftly as he imagines your reunion. Jihoon’s heart is light, filled with hope and a renewed sense of purpose. He glances at the clock, noting the late hour, but sleep is the last thing on his mind. Instead, he finds himself dreaming of you and the endless possibilities that lie ahead.

As the first light of dawn filters through the window, Jihoon leans back once more, satisfied with his preparations. He knows that this meeting could be the start of something beautiful, a new chapter in your shared story. With a final glance at your email, he shuts down his computer, his heart full and ready for what the future holds—as well as nostalgic over your past.

You stand by the edge of the forest that lines your family home, dappled sunlight filters through the dense canopy, casting a mystical glow over the tranquil surroundings. Amidst the rustling leaves, you try to have a moment of peace and quiet when, suddenly, a figure emerges from the shadows – a man of elegant stature, adorned in a toga of shimmering gold. Your eyes meet, sparks of tension crackling between you.

The beautiful man, undeterred by your irritation, was captivated by your fiery spirit. With a graceful bow and a voice imbued with sincerity, he offered a heartfelt apology. "Forgive my intrusion. I am Apollo, the god of light and music. I was drawn here by your spirit."

“You have no right to intrude,” you snap, though your gaze lingers on his ethereal presence.

Apollo stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I mean you no harm,” he said softly. “I sensed a soul as spirited as the forest itself, and I couldn't resist meeting its bearer.”

In a display of his divine prowess, Apollo performs a magical trick, a burst of light appearing at the movement of his hands. Your eyes widen, taken aback yet intrigued by his powers. The anger in your heart begins to wane, replaced by a budding fascination. You allow him into your peace and he sits down by your side, entranced by your being.

As you find yourself immersed in the tranquil embrace of nature, the world around you becomes a canvas of serenity and whispered secrets. The rustling leaves and soft murmur of the brook create a symphony that echoes the gentle pulse of the earth. Here, in this sacred haven, the boundaries between the divine and the mortal blur, and you are granted a glimpse beyond the celestial façade.

In this fleeting interlude of enchantment, you encounter the man behind the god—his essence revealed not through grand titles or divine spectacles, but through the subtle, intimate moments shared amidst the dappled sunlight and shadowy groves. His presence, though touched by the ethereal, is grounded in the warmth of human connection. You see the depth of his humanity, the tenderness of his gaze, and the sincerity of his touch, all wrapped in the natural splendor that surrounds you.

The forest whispers its age-old secrets, and the air hums with the quiet magic of your meeting. Each shared glance and gentle touch weaves a story of intertwined fates, a dance choreographed by the hands of destiny itself. The connection that binds you grows, a delicate thread spun from the loom of the cosmos, shimmering with the hues of eternity and intimacy.

As you move together through this enchanted realm, the dance of myth and reality intertwines with every step. The cosmic rhythm of your bond echoes through the forest, resonating with the ageless harmonies of the universe. In this timeless moment, where myth meets mortal, your destinies converge, forming a union that is as profound as it is ephemeral. The magic of the cosmos swirls around you, a testament to a connection that transcends the ordinary, forged in the crucible of both celestial wonder and human warmth.

“You have stirred something within me,” Apollo confessed, his voice carrying the weight of millennia. “A mortal spirit so fierce and yet so tender.”

Apollo’s presence radiates a soft, celestial glow as he extends his hand toward you, bestowing a healing light that shimmers like liquid moonlight. The warm radiance wraps around you like a tender embrace, a soothing balm for the soul. As the light envelops you, the weight of your burdens begins to dissolve, replaced by a profound sense of tranquility. The aches that have haunted you ebb away, leaving in their place a serene peace that seems to harmonize with the very fabric of your being.

The bond between you feels tangible, a connection woven from threads of fate and the ageless dance of the cosmos. The celestial and the mortal intertwine in a delicate symphony, echoing the timeless rhythms of the universe.

With a soft, grateful smile, you turn to him. “Apollo, would you visit me tonight? I want to see you again.”

Apollo’s eyes sparkle with an ethereal light, his smile warm and reassuring. “I would be delighted,” he replies, his voice like a caress of the evening breeze. “You shall have my promise.”

As night falls and the sky is draped in a velvet cloak of darkness, Apollo keeps his word. The moon casts its silvery glow upon the world, and he climbs with effortless grace, his figure blending seamlessly with the shadows and moonlight. The air is fragrant with the scent of wildflowers, a heady perfume that mingles with the gentle rustling of leaves.

You stand on your balcony, where the cool night air wraps around you like a gentle caress, the crispness of the evening a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the day. You clutch your thin robe closer, its delicate fabric barely shielding you from the night’s chill. The stillness of the night seems to hold its breath in anticipation, and your heartbeat quickens, a soft flutter of excitement resonating through the serene darkness.

Leaning over the edge, you peer into the velvety abyss below, and your breath hitches in your throat as you catch sight of Apollo’s face, aglow with an otherworldly radiance. His divine presence bathes him in a soft, silvery light that dances with the shadows, making his features appear both ethereal and incredibly close.

“You came,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of relief and elation, as you extend your hand toward him.

Apollo’s smile is both tender and mischievous as he reaches up to take your hand. “I couldn’t stay away,” he confesses, his voice a melodious murmur that seems to blend seamlessly with the night air.

As he steps onto the balcony and joins you, the world around you transforms into a cocoon of intimacy. You both retreat into the quiet sanctuary of your bedroom, where the soft glow of oil lamps casts a warm, flickering light that dances across the room's serene decor. The gentle illumination bathes everything in a golden hue, creating an atmosphere of both tranquility and expectation.

You and Apollo sit close together, the little space between you filled with anticipation. The air seems charged with an unspoken connection, and every glance, every movement, feels laden with meaning. Apollo’s eyes, reflecting the soft light, hold a gaze of deep, attentive interest as he listens to your heartfelt conversation.

Noticing the slight shiver that has taken hold of you, Apollo shifts a little closer, his warmth a soothing balm against the chill. Sensing his unspoken invitation, you lean into him, resting your head on his chest. The rhythmic, steady beat of his heart beneath your ear brings a comforting sense of closeness, and the world outside fades away, leaving only the intimate cocoon of your shared space and the gentle glow of the oil lamps.

As the night deepens, your connection deepens too, drawing you closer until your breaths mingle in the quiet intimacy of the moment. You look up at him and he holds your face in his hands, carefully looking over each and every one of your features. Apollo leans in, brushing a gentle kiss against your lips, a gesture filled with reverence and longing. Your heart races in response, feeling the undeniable pull of your shared destiny.

Yet, sensing your hesitation and the weight of your burgeoning emotions, Apollo pulls back slightly, his touch lingering on your cheek. He gazes into your eyes with a mixture of desire and restraint, wanting to savor this romance and to truly know you before taking things further.

With a soft smile, Apollo rises from where you sit, a promise of return lingering in his parting words. “Until we meet again,” he whispers, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet night. You watch him go, the echo of his presence lingering in the room, leaving your heart and mind swirling with the complexities of newfound love and the mysteries of your intertwined fates.

As you lie back on your bed, the soft rustle of silk drapes and the flickering light of the oil lamps create a cocoon of warmth around you. The memory of Apollo's kiss and the tender look in his eyes replay in your mind, a delicate thread weaving through the tapestry of your thoughts. The night is filled with dreams of what might come, the promise of love and destiny guiding your heart.

Only a few days pass before you find yourself once more in his presence. As the first tender rays of dawn gently infiltrate your bedroom through the ornate windows, the room transforms into a sanctuary bathed in a soft, golden light. The early morning sun, with its delicate hues, filters through the intricately carved glass, casting a warm, ethereal glow that dances across the room.

The air is hushed and serene, carrying with it a faint but enchanting blend of incense and wildflowers. The subtle aroma weaves through the space, infusing the atmosphere with a calming, fragrant embrace that speaks of both tranquility and the natural world’s quiet beauty.

The bed, a luxurious cocoon draped in rich, sumptuous fabrics, stands as a testament to both elegance and comfort. The linens, adorned with intricate patterns and plush textures, create a space of exquisite softness. Here, amidst the opulence of the bedding, you and Apollo lie entwined. Your bodies are wrapped in a tender embrace, the warmth of his presence melding seamlessly with the softness of the fabrics. The gentle interplay of light and shadow enhances the intimate atmosphere, casting a dreamlike glow over the serene tableau of your shared sanctuary.

Apollo, the radiant deity of the sun, and you, a cherished mortal, are entwined in a tender embrace. In this moment of exquisite intimacy, your bodies rest together, warmed by the residual glow of passion's heat. Apollo’s golden hair shimmers like strands of sunlight caught in the dawn’s gentle embrace, its divine brilliance casting a striking contrast against the earthly warmth of your skin.

The room hums softly with an energy that feels almost palpable—a vibrant, living current born of your intertwined love and boundless desire. This love, a bridge between mortal and divine realms, pulses with a timeless rhythm, transcending the limits of both worlds. In the soft morning light, where shadows play and whispers linger, the boundary between the celestial and the earthly fades, leaving only the pure essence of your shared connection.

In this sacred moment, the world outside fades into insignificance. Your surroundings, once grand and imposing, now serve merely as a backdrop to the profound intimacy you share. Apollo’s touch upon your skin is gentle yet electric, sending shivers down your spine as if each caress were a promise written in the language of the gods.

The silence of the morning is punctuated by whispers—whispers of affection, of longing fulfilled, and of promises exchanged between two souls. Your voices, soft and reverent, carry the weight of countless whispered vows made in the stillness of countless dawns before this one.

Apollo gazes upon you with eyes that hold not just admiration, but reverence. In you, Apollo finds a reflection of the mortal world’s beauty and vulnerability—a beauty that enchants even the sun god himself, and vulnerability that draws forth his protective instincts.

As the sun rises higher in the sky, casting a warm glow across the room, your embrace deepens. You explore the depths of your connection with newfound intensity, each movement a testament to the passion and longing that has bound you together since your first meeting under the auspices of fate. He knows that you don’t have long before your servants come to greet you good morning and get you to start your day. However, he can’t bring himself to leave—not when he still hungers for you. Apollo kisses you again, bringing his lips down your jaw, to your neck, and to your bare chest.

“Again?” you ask with a chuckle. “You’ve barely let me recover.”

He gazes up at you with eyes brimming with longing, and a soft, affectionate coo escapes your lips as your fingers glide gently through his hair. In this tender moment, it feels almost impossible to believe that the man before you is a god. He appears so vulnerable, so exquisitely delicate in your embrace.

Apollo’s lips brush against the tender curve of your chest, planting a kiss in the hollow between your breasts with a reverence that speaks of deep adoration. Slowly, he moves over you, his body fluid and graceful, until he has enclosed you within the gentle fortress of his arms. His presence above you, warm and enveloping, creates a cocoon of intimacy where the world outside fades away, leaving only the delicate, shared space of your love.

“I have to go soon,” he says, “but not yet.”

“Do I really entice you this much?” you murmur and study the way his hair shimmers when you pull your fingers through it.

“Very much,” he admits and presses another kiss on your lips. “I want to devote my love to you. Will you grant me that wish?”

You nod, and his lips are immediately back on yours. Your love, ignited by the primal force of desire and nurtured by a deep understanding of each other’s essence, blooms like the lotus flower at the dawn of creation. Each touch is a prayer whispered into the fabric of time, each kiss a vow written in the stars. One of his hands lifts up your thigh, as the other aligns himself with your core. You gasp at the feeling of him entering you again, but his lips drown out the sound.

Your hands find his shoulders, your nails gently clawing at his skin. Apollo’s hands wander over your skin, his fingers leaving a warm and tingling sensation. The bed beneath you seems to dissolve into nothingness, replaced by the ethereal softness of clouds as he thrusts into you. You float in a realm where the ordinary world no longer holds sway, cradled in a dreamlike embrace. Apollo’s lips gently withdraw from yours, leaving a lingering warmth, as his hand rises to cup your cheek with a tenderness that feels both celestial and intimate.

Outside your reverie, a knock echoes softly on the door, accompanied by a distant, unfamiliar voice calling your name. Yet, within this cocoon of otherworldly bliss, Apollo remains unfazed. His movements continue with a fluid grace, undisturbed by the intrusion, as he draws you deeper into a realm where only the two of you exist—a realm woven from the delicate threads of shared desire and boundless affection.

“I just… adore you,” he murmurs, his eyes hazy with lust.

“I’m close,” you whisper.

Apollo’s head falls to the crook of your neck with a groan, and your fingers immediately tangle in his hair. There’s another knock on your door.

“Just a moment!” You stumble over your words, trying to hold back the noises that are pushing themselves up your throat.

Apollo’s hips stutter as you clench around him, the excitement of the moment becoming too much for you. A moan bubbles up your throat. Apollo moves to lean over you again, putting two of his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. With your eyes, you tell him that you’re just about ready to explode. He nods, replacing his fingers with his lips as he cums inside of you. You ride out your own high by grinding against him. For what feels like hours, but probably only lasted seconds, the two of you hold each other as you blissfully glide through paradise. Another knock at the door disrupts your peace.

“Go,” you whisper to him. “I’ll meet you again later.”

Apollo’s lips meet yours once more, the kiss a lingering, tender farewell that seems to stretch time itself. His touch is soft yet electrifying, a final whisper of affection that dances across your senses. As he pulls away, his gaze holds yours with a mixture of warmth and melancholy.

With a final, adoring smile, Apollo turns toward the edge of your balcony. The soft glow of moonlight highlights his divine features, casting a silvery halo around him. He moves with an otherworldly grace, his steps light and fluid as if he’s gliding rather than walking.

In a fleeting moment, he stands at the edge, the morning air swirling around him like a gentle, ethereal embrace. With a final, lingering glance, he leaps effortlessly into the day, his form vanishing into the soft, velvety light from the morning sun. As he disappears from view, the faintest shimmer of his presence lingers in the air, leaving you with the tender echo of his touch and the soft, wistful glow of his departure.

Chapter 4: Desolate Dreams

The café near the bustling campus buzzes with the animated voices of students and the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee. Jihoon sits tucked away in a cozy corner, his leg bouncing with nervous energy as he checks his phone for the umpteenth time, awaiting Y/N’s arrival. Each passing second feels like an eternity, filled with anticipation and the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

Finally, she steps through the café door, her smile radiant and infectious. Jihoon’s heart skips a beat as their eyes lock, a wave of relief washing over him. She approaches his table, and the air between them crackles with a mix of nerves and excitement, a dance of emotions that plays out in every glance and smile.

“Hey,” she says, sliding into the chair opposite Jihoon. “Sorry, I’m late.”

Jihoon manages a shy grin. “No worries. I’ve only just got here myself.”

They exchange pleasantries, the atmosphere around them charged with a subtle flirtatious energy. Jihoon finds himself captivated by her easy charm and the sparkle in her eyes as they banter back and forth. The conversation flows effortlessly, touching on everything from classes to hobbies, but it’s their shared passion for music that truly lights up the space between them.

Her face lights up as she talks about her favorite newest project. Jihoon listens intently, hanging on her every word, feeling a kinship in their mutual love for music. He shares snippets of his own musical aspirations, and Y/N’s genuine interest sparks a newfound confidence within him.

“It’d be amazing to see your studio. I’d even help with that song you’re stuck on if you want me to,” she suggests with a playful glint in her eye.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Jihoon replies, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of sharing his unreleased music with her.

In the warm ambiance of the café, surrounded by the aroma of freshly ground coffee and the soft murmur of other patrons, Jihoon and Y/N begin to forge a connection that transcends the ordinary. She leans in closer, her words becoming more intimate, her laughter ringing out like a shared secret. Everything Y/N does reminds him of you.

As they linger over their drinks, Jihoon feels a sense of exhilaration mingled with contentment. Being with her feels right like he’s stumbled upon something special amidst the chaos of his life. He can’t help but marvel at how effortlessly they seem to fit together, their hearts beating in sync with the rhythm.

Jihoon cannot deny the magnetic pull drawing him closer to her. Y/N’s presence is a beacon of light in his life, illuminating his path with hope and love. He feels a desperate need to protect her, to shield her from any harm that might threaten her fragile happiness.

In the intimate embrace of Jihoon’s studio, the soft, golden light filters gently through the windows, casting a warm, inviting glow over a space filled with musical instruments and cherished memorabilia. The room breathes with the echoes of countless melodies, yet today, it’s imbued with a unique sense of anticipation.

Y/N had suggested playing a piece for Jihoon, a haunting melody that had lingered in her mind—a melody she had struggled to piece together on her own. Jihoon, after carefully maneuvering the harp into the recording booth through numerous attempts, positions Y/N at the heart of the studio. With a nod of readiness, she signals Jihoon, who presses the record button with a mix of reverence and excitement.

Seated gracefully by the harp, Y/N’s presence seems to embody serenity and poise. Her fingers move with delicate precision, each motion a dance across the strings. As she begins to play, the air fills with a melody that unfurls like a wistful story. The notes flow with a fluid grace, weaving through the space with a familiarity that transcends time—a melody imbued with the echoes of ancient love and longing.

Jihoon listens, his heart stirred by the profound beauty of the music. The melody is more than just notes; it is a haunting, ethereal song that he has known for lifetimes. The strains of the harp bring back a rush of memories, fragments of a distant past that had faded over time but now resurface with crystal clarity. The melody, a link to a bygone era, reverberates through him, stirring emotions he thought were long buried.

Standing in the dimly lit studio, Jihoon is mesmerized, his gaze fixed on Y/N. The tears that sting his eyes are a testament to the overwhelming mix of joy and disbelief that fills his heart. The music is a bridge between past and present, its poignant notes binding him to a time and a person he thought he had lost forever. Each chord and every delicate arpeggio is a whisper from another era, weaving a connection between them that is as timeless as it is profound.

As you finish playing, a gentle silence descends upon the studio, punctuated only by the soft echoes of their shared emotions. Jihoon finds his voice, choked with emotion yet filled with gratitude. “Y/N, that was... breathtaking,” Jihoon manages to say, his voice trembling slightly with emotion.

You smile warmly, your eyes reflecting understanding and a hint of affection. “I’m glad you liked it. You’re more than welcome to use it, I’ve had trouble putting it to use for ages.”

Before you prepare to leave, Jihoon gathers his courage, his heart beating with anticipation as he extends a heartfelt invitation to Y/N. His voice trembles slightly with a mix of nerves and hope as he speaks.

“Y/N, would you... would you join me at the listening party for my album?” Jihoon asks, his eyes searching for yours earnestly. “I would love for you to be there.”

Your expression softens with a smile, her gaze meeting Jihoon’s with warmth and understanding. “I’d be honored to come, Jihoon.”

Jihoon’s heart swells at your words. As soon as he’s said goodbye, and you’re out of earshot, he lets out a joyful shout. Immediately, he gets behind his computer to finish the song. In the dimly lit solitude of his studio, Jihoon sits before his piano, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows across the room. The air is thick with anticipation and reverence as he gathers his thoughts, his own haunting melody and poignant lyrics echoing in his mind. They stir ancient memories and timeless emotions, weaving themselves into the fabric of Jihoon’s being.

With each note that resonates through the air, Jihoon pours his heart and soul into the composition. He closes his eyes, allowing his lyrics to flow like a river of emotions, carrying with them the echoes of laughter and tears shared with you. The piano becomes an extension of his deepest feelings, each chord and progression a reflection of their shared past and the uncertainty of their present love.

His voice rises in a haunting melody that fills the room. His lyrics imbued with vulnerability and raw honesty—from the depths of longing to the heights of uncertain love. Every word is a testament to the fragile nature of their connection, a reflection of Jihoon’s inner turmoil and his yearning for clarity.

Through the timeless alchemy of music, Jihoon channels the essence of your relationship’s uncertainty. Each lyric becomes a vessel for his doubts and hopes, immortalizing his complex emotions in a symphony of passion and introspection. The song evolves with each heartfelt verse, capturing the bittersweet beauty of their intertwined destinies.

As the final notes of “What Kind of Future” fade into the stillness of the night, Jihoon feels a profound sense of catharsis wash over him. The song stands as a testament to your journey, a poignant reminder of the depth of their connection despite the uncertainties that lie ahead.

The air is thick with the heady fragrance of pine sap and the earthy richness of the forest floor. Soft murmurs of unseen creatures create a haunting symphony that reverberates through the dense canopy overhead. Moonlight, filtered through the tangled branches, spills in delicate shafts that paint the ground with shifting patterns of light and shadow.

Apollo's heart pounds with a frantic rhythm, his golden hair and divine robes catching in the underbrush as he runs. His keen senses are overwhelmed by a sense of impending dread. A dryad, her voice trembling with concern, had led him here with the dire news of your plight—of Ares and the terrible fate that had befallen you.

The serene landscape around him seems almost to hold its breath as Apollo crashes through the forest, his footsteps echoing like thunder through the ancient woods. The moonlight reveals a gruesome contrast to the tranquil beauty: your lifeless body lies crumpled amidst the tangled foliage. The sight is a brutal shock—a vivid splash of crimson staining the otherwise peaceful scene, a jarring testament to the violence that had taken place.

Apollo's breath catches in his throat. The world around him blurs as his gaze locks onto the sight of Ares, who stands grimly beside your corpse. The presence of the god of war is a dark blight on the scene, his fierce eyes meeting Apollo's with a cold, unfeeling gaze.

Time seems to freeze in that moment, a heavy silence descending upon the forest as Apollo's heart clenches with anguish. The serene beauty of the woods is eclipsed by the brutal reality of what he has found. With a final, anguished cry, he rushes to your side, his footsteps pounding through the silence of the ancient woods. Each step feels like an eternity, his divine energy merging with the primal pain of his loss as he reaches out to you, desperate to reclaim the love that has been so cruelly torn away.

“Y/N, no!” Apollo’s voice shatters the quiet, filled with raw anguish. He kneels beside her, hands trembling as he reaches out to gently cradle her still form. His voice breaks with sorrow and rage, a primal scream of anguish tearing through the trees.

Tears stream down his face unchecked, mingling with the blood that stains her pale skin. The vibrant life she once possessed now lies still and cold, a cruel testament to the fragility of mortal existence.

“Y/N, please come back,” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. “You can’t leave me like this.”

Memories surge through his mind like a tempest. He is engulfed by a flood of images—the warmth of the sun on your faces, the way your laughter seemed to dance through the skies, the tender vows exchanged beneath a starlit canopy. These moments, once full of life and hope, now feel achingly ephemeral, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

In the midst of this chaotic despair, Apollo can do nothing but clutch your lifeless body to his chest. His hands, trembling with sorrow, hold you as if by sheer force of will he might bring you back from the brink of oblivion. His heart, once a vessel of divine strength, is now shattered into a myriad of irreparable fragments. Each beat echoes with the agony of loss, a cacophony of pain that reverberates through his very soul. The once bright and eternal light within him dims, consumed by the overwhelming darkness of grief.

The forest bears witness to Apollo’s grief, its ancient trees standing sentinel around them as he mourns the loss of his beloved. His sorrow reverberates through the very fabric of their shared existence, a testament to the devastating impact of Ares’ cruel betrayal. The once-peaceful woods seem to sigh in sympathy, the breeze carrying Apollo’s cries of anguish into the stillness.

Through tear-blurred eyes, he looks up at Ares, standing amidst the trees. His eyes are cold and unrepentant. Apollo’s grief transforms into a surge of anger.

“You!” Apollo’s voice is hoarse with rage as he struggles to rise to his feet. “You did this!”

Ares’ voice is as frigid and unyielding as steel, his expression devoid of warmth or empathy. “Hera’s decree. If she can’t see you dead, she’ll make sure to find another way to make you suffer for daring to be Zeus’ new favorite.”

Fueled by a mix of sorrow and fury, Apollo attempts to lunge at Ares, but his grief-weakened body betrays him. He stumbles, collapsing back to the ground, his strength sapped by the overwhelming despair. His fingers dig into the earth, trying to push himself up again, but it’s no use. The weight of his sorrow is too great.

Ares watches him with a sneer. “Pathetic,” he mutters before turning away and disappearing into the depths of the forest.

Apollo’s vision blurs as fresh tears spill from his eyes. “I’ll make you pay,” he vows, his voice barely a whisper. “One day, I’ll make you pay.”

Determined and desperate, Apollo descends into the Underworld—his body still covered in your blood. The River Styx looms ahead, its dark waters whispering of forgotten souls and eternal rest. The urgency of his mission propels him forward, the weight of his grief a constant companion.

“Charon!” Apollo calls out, his voice echoing across the dark expanse. The ferryman appears, his skeletal form shrouded in shadows, and with a nod, he extends a bony hand. Apollo places a gold coin into the ferryman’s palm, the payment for passage.

As the boat cuts through the inky water, Apollo’s mind races. He must convince Hades to return you from the clutches of death. The mere thought of your lifeless form lying in the forest is unbearable.

Upon reaching the other side, Apollo steps onto the ashen shore and makes his way to the imposing gates of the Underworld. Cerberus, the three-headed guardian, growls low, each head eyeing him warily. With a wave of his hand and a murmur of soothing words, Apollo pacifies the beast and continues forward.

In the throne room, Hades sits in brooding silence, his dark eyes gleaming with an unreadable expression.

“Hades,” Apollo begins, his voice steady but filled with urgency, “I have come to ask for the return of my Y/N. Her death was unjust, a result of Hera’s jealousy and Ares’ brutality. She deserves another chance at life.”

Hades regards Apollo with a mixture of curiosity and pity. “Apollo, god of light, even you must know the rules of my realm. No soul leaves without due reason, and certainly not without its appointed time.”

“But she was taken too soon!” Apollo’s desperation seeps into his words. “She had so much more to live for, so much love left to give.”

Hades leans forward, his gaze intense. “The balance of life and death is not so easily swayed. Every soul has its time, and its place in the grand design. To disrupt that order is to invite chaos.”

Apollo’s hands clench into fists at his sides. “Then let me take her place. I will remain here, in her stead. Just let her return to the living.”

Hades' expression is soft with understanding underneath the cold exterior. “Apollo, your love for her is evident, but such exchanges are not within our power to grant lightly. The threads of fate are woven tightly, and even the gods must respect them.”

“But why?” Apollo’s voice breaks, the raw edge of his grief cutting through the stillness. “Why must she suffer for the whims of others?”

Hades sighs, a rare glimpse of compassion in his eyes. “Because it is not her time to return. Her soul must find its peace here, in its due course. To interfere would be to unravel the very fabric of existence. Wait now, and meet her again in the future when her soul returns to Earth through another body.”

Tears stream down Apollo’s face, his hope crumbling to dust. “Then what am I to do now? How can I go on without her?”

“Grieve, Apollo. Grieve and remember her. Cherish the love you shared, and let it guide you through this darkness. In time, the pain will lessen, and her memory will become a source of strength rather than sorrow.”

Apollo nods, his heart laden with the somber weight of acceptance. He had ventured in search of a miracle, only to discover that even gods are not exempt from the inescapable embrace of death.

With a final, sorrowful glance at Hades, Apollo turns and makes his way back to the living world, the shadows of the Underworld lingering in his heart. The path ahead seems bleak, but he resolves to honor your memory, carrying the light of their love with him as he faces the uncertain days to come.

In the stillness of Jihoon’s bedroom, where moonlight weaves ghostly patterns through the curtains and shadows dance across the walls, a sudden jolt shatters the tranquility. Jihoon bolts awake, his body drenched in sweat and his breaths coming in ragged, desperate gasps. Tears streak his cheeks, remnants of a nightmarish vision that clings to him like a chilling specter. The room’s serene ambiance is obliterated by the sharp sting of his awakening, leaving him trembling and disoriented, as the haunting echoes of his dream continue to reverberate through the silence.

Gasping for air, Jihoon’s heart pounds with sorrow and panic, his mind still ensnared in the vivid echoes of his grief. His hands tremble with residual emotion as he tries to shake off the tendrils of the nightmare that have left him shaken to the core.

As Jihoon reaches for the glass of water on his bedside table, his trembling fingers betray him. The glass slips from his grasp, falling in slow motion as if time itself is taunting him. It crashes to the floor with a sharp, splintering explosion, sending shards of glass skittering across the room. The sound is jarring, a violent punctuation mark to the unsettling silence that followed his abrupt awakening.

Startled and disoriented, Jihoon stares blankly at the scattered fragments, each shard reflecting the fractured state of his mind. The broken glass, glinting ominously in the moonlight, mirrors the chaos roiling within him.

“Get a grip, Jihoon,” he mutters to himself, his voice a strained whisper of reassurance amidst the turmoil. “It’s over. It’s just a nightmare.”

With a weary sigh, Jihoon drags himself from the bed, the weight of exhaustion bearing down on him like a leaden shroud. He moves cautiously, his footsteps heavy as he carefully picks up the larger pieces of glass, wincing with each crunch underfoot. The small, jagged shards are painstakingly gathered and swept into a dustpan, his hands moving with mechanical precision.

The act of cleaning up the glass is both a physical and emotional distraction, a way to ground himself in the mundane reality of the present. Each piece he collects feels like a step toward regaining control, a small act of order in the wake of his distress.

When the last of the glass is cleared away, Jihoon returns to his bed with a bone-deep weariness. He sinks into the sheets, burying his face in his hands as if to shield himself from the lingering echoes of his nightmare. The bed, once a refuge, now feels like an oppressive weight as he grapples with the flood of sadness and fear that continues to haunt him. Exhaustion envelops him like a cold, unforgiving tide, pulling him down as he struggles to find solace in the fragile embrace of sleep.

In the stillness of the night, Jihoon wrestles with the aftermath of his tumultuous dream, grappling with the deep-seated emotions that threaten to consume him. His tears fall silently as he seeks solace in the darkness, longing for the fleeting comfort of sleep to bring respite from the relentless ache in his heart.

“Please, just let me sleep,” he pleads, closing his eyes against the tears. “Let me forget, even just for a little while.”

Outside, the world sleeps unaware of Jihoon’s turmoil, but inside his bedroom, shadows dance and moonlight weaves a soft tapestry of light and dark. Jihoon remains caught in the grip of sorrow and exhaustion, waiting for the dawn to bring clarity and a renewed strength to face the day ahead.

“I’ll be okay,” he tells himself, though his voice lacks conviction. “I just need to rest. Tomorrow will be better.”

But as the night stretches on, Jihoon can only hope that the morning light will chase away the shadows of his dreams and bring with it the peace he so desperately seeks.

Chapter 5: Resonance of Forgotten Tides

The album-listening party thrums with vibrant anticipation, its energy a living pulse that vibrates through the room. Conversations mingle with the rich swell of background music, creating a tapestry of sound and chatter. You navigate through the animated crowd, your heart fluttering with a blend of excitement and curiosity.

Across the room, Jihoon’s gaze meets yours. A genuine smile blossoms across his face, his eyes sparkling with warmth. He makes his way through the sea of guests, his presence commanding attention. As he reaches you, he extends a hand with an inviting gesture.

“Glad you could make it,” Jihoon says, his voice a blend of enthusiasm and relief. “Come, let me show you around.”

As Jihoon leads you through the gathering, you’re enveloped in the rich, immersive atmosphere of the party. The room is alive with animated conversation and the tantalizing promise of new music. A subtle, almost imperceptible recognition stirs deep within you—a sensation that you’ve been here before, in a place where music and memories intertwine.

Jihoon guides you to a prime spot at the front of the room, his touch light on your back as he gestures to the small stage. “I’ll be introducing the album in a moment,” he says, his tone imbued with both excitement and a hint of nervousness. “I hope you enjoy it.”

He then steps away, ascending the stage with a confident stride. The room's chatter fades, replaced by a reverent hush as Jihoon takes the microphone. His voice, warm and engaging, begins to speak, but you’re too absorbed in the growing tension to focus on his words.

As the first notes of the album unfurl, they drift through the room with an almost ethereal grace. The sound weaves through the crowd, each note delicate and precise, creating a soft, shimmering veil of music that envelops everyone present. The songs flow seamlessly into one another, each transition smooth and fluid, heightening the anticipation that crackles in the air like static electricity.

But it is the final track that captures your attention with an intensity that feels almost supernatural. As the opening chords of the song emerge, a wave of haunting familiarity crashes over you. The melody wraps itself around your senses, its pull almost magnetic, as if the music itself is reaching out to touch a part of you buried deep within.

Each note, each lyric, resonates with an eerie familiarity, stirring memories that seem to slip just out of reach. The melody is both mesmerizing and unsettling, tugging at your emotions with a power that is both awe-inspiring and bewildering. It feels as though the music is unearthing something buried in the recesses of your mind, a part of you that you had almost forgotten.

A tumultuous mix of awe, confusion, and an inexplicable yearning swirls within you. Your heart races, pounding in sync with the rhythm of the song as it weaves its intricate patterns of beauty and emotional depth. The music resonates with a hauntingly ethereal quality, drawing you to the edge of forgotten memories, leaving you teetering between the echoes of the past and the reality of the present.

As Jihoon’s voice rises to its emotional zenith in the song’s poignant conclusion, a profound shift occurs within you. It feels as though a floodgate has been flung open in your mind, unleashing a torrent of memories from a past life.

You catch fleeting glimpses of an opulent, bygone era, each image shimmering with the golden hues of a sunlit past. The grandeur of a stately manor unfurls before you, its rooms draped in luxurious fabrics and adorned with intricate tapestries that tell stories of ancient splendor. Crystal chandeliers cast their radiant glow, illuminating moments of blissful intimacy that you once shared with Apollo.

You see yourself wandering through verdant gardens, where the air is thick with the intoxicating fragrance of blooming roses and citrus blossoms. Apollo stands beside you, his divine presence a beacon of warmth amidst the lush greenery. His golden hair glows like a halo under the dappled sunlight, and his laughter rings like a celestial melody, mingling with the whispers of the breeze.

You recall tender moments spent beneath sprawling orange trees, their branches heavy with ripe fruit. Apollo’s fingers gently pluck an orange, the tangy scent mingling with the floral aroma of the garden as he leans in to kiss your cheek, his touch both soothing and electrifying.

You find yourselves on a sun-drenched terrace overlooking an azure sea, the water sparkling like sapphires under the afternoon sun. Apollo holds you close, his embrace a sanctuary of warmth and comfort. The two of you dance together, moving in perfect harmony to a melody only you two can hear. His gaze is unwavering, filled with adoration and an eternity of promises.

The images are vivid and overwhelming, crashing against the shores of your consciousness like a torrent of nostalgia. Each memory is a testament to a love that transcended mortal boundaries, a bond forged in the fires of an ancient romance that defied time itself. The overwhelming flood of sensations and emotions sweeps through you, leaving you breathless and awestruck as you stand on the precipice of a past life that now feels as tangible as the present.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes as the profound realization dawns upon you. Jihoon’s song is not just a melody—it is a reflection of your shared past, a testament to a love that has spanned across centuries. The realization threads through your mind, weaving together the fragmented pieces of your intertwined destinies into a tapestry of profound clarity.

As the final echoes of the music fade, you turn your gaze toward Jihoon, your heart aching with the weight of newfound understanding. He stands alone in a distant corner of the room, a solitary figure amidst the sea of guests. But Jihoon, consumed by his own emotional storm, does not meet your eyes.

Driven by the urgent pulse of your revelation, you find yourself desperately pushing through the swarming sea of partygoers. The crowd feels almost alive, a living barrier of laughing faces and chattering voices that press in on you from all sides. Each movement you make is slowed by their collective inertia, every step forward a Herculean effort against the relentless tide of bodies.

The cacophony of the party—laughter, clinking glasses, and the echo of the final notes from Jihoon's album—seems to swell around you, amplifying your sense of isolation and anxiety. You catch fleeting glimpses of Jihoon’s retreating figure, his back turned as he navigates the throng of guests, and your heart pounds with a frantic rhythm, each beat driven by the fear of losing him.

Sweat beads on your forehead, your breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps as you struggle to forge a path through the crowd. The warmth of the room, once inviting, now feels stifling, a physical manifestation of the mounting pressure in your chest. Your hands graze the edges of people’s jackets and the fabric of their clothes, their voices a dissonant symphony that heightens your growing sense of panic.

Just as you make a final, desperate push to reach him, you see Jihoon slip through the side door, disappearing into the night beyond the party's glow. The door closes with a muted thud that resonates like a final, crushing blow. Your outstretched hand hangs in mid-air.

You’re left standing amidst the echoes of the party’s final notes and the fading hum of conversation, the realization of your intertwined past hanging heavily in the air around you. The once-celebratory atmosphere now feels hollow and distant, the weight of your unspoken truth settling over you like a shroud.

In Jihoon’s apartment, the air is thick with an unsettling stillness, punctuated only by the distant murmur of city life that drifts through the open window. The urban symphony—a low rumble of traffic, the occasional distant siren—filters into the room, but it feels like a world away from the silence that hangs heavy within the apartment.

Jihoon stands alone amidst this quiet, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a physical burden. His suitcase, meticulously packed, lies on the bed, its presence a stark reminder of his imminent departure. The room, usually vibrant with his personal touches, now seems stark and impersonal, a reflection of his state of mind. Boxes, filled with his life’s possessions, are stacked haphazardly, waiting to be moved, each one a symbol of his reluctance to settle and face the past.

He gazes out of the window at the sprawling city skyline, a mosaic of shimmering lights and shadowy buildings that stretch into the horizon. The sight is both mesmerizing and melancholic, a visual representation of the opportunities slipping through his fingers. The vast expanse of the city, once full of promise, now seems like an endless expanse of regret and missed chances.

As Jihoon wrestles with the tumultuous mix of regret, longing, and bitter heartache, the weight of his unfulfilled love for you bears down heavily on him. The uncertainty of what could have been gnaws at him relentlessly, each thought a jagged edge that tears at his resolve. The decision to leave seems like the only way to escape the emotional turmoil that has become his constant companion.

His phone vibrates with a text from his manager, breaking through the fog of his thoughts: “I’m ready to take you to the airport.” The message is both a call to action and a finality, pushing him closer to the edge of his decision. With a heavy heart and a sense of resignation, Jihoon realizes there is nothing left to hold him back.

He takes one last look around the apartment, the echo of his footsteps sounding hollow in the empty space. The city outside continues its relentless pace, indifferent to his departure. He grabs his suitcase, the weight of it a tangible reminder of the life he is leaving behind, and steps out of the apartment. The cool night air greets him as he descends the building’s steps, each movement a step away from the life he once knew and the love he is forced to leave behind.

As he heads towards the waiting car, the finality of his choice settles around him like a shroud, the city lights fading into a blur of regret and sorrow.

The airport terminal hums with frenetic energy, a living tapestry of farewells and reunions. The cacophony of rolling suitcases, urgent announcements, and the murmur of conversations creates a backdrop of bustling urgency. Amid this whirlwind of activity, Jihoon stands on the precipice of departure, his thoughts steeped in a brooding contemplation. His eyes are distant, fixated on the distant plane that promises escape.

But just as he readies himself to step onto the jet bridge, the atmosphere around him shifts, charged with an unexpected jolt. Through the dense sea of hurried travelers and flashing departure boards, a figure emerges—it's you. Your presence cuts through the crowd like a beacon, a luminous thread of determination weaving its way through the chaos.

Jihoon's heart leaps as he locks eyes with you, his face a canvas of disbelief and shock. The world narrows to just the space between you, the terminal's clamor fading into a distant hum.

"Jihoon, wait!" your voice pierces through the din, a lifeline in the tempest of the terminal.

You move with urgency, each step resonating like a heartbeat in the cavernous space. Your strides are firm, purposeful, and as you close the distance, the tumult around you seems to pause, holding its breath. Jihoon's breath catches in his throat as you reach him, and in an instant, your arms are around him, enveloping him in a desperate, fervent embrace. The warmth of your body presses against his, grounding him with a sensation both calming and electrifying.

"Y/N?" Jihoon's voice trembles, revealing the storm of emotions within him.

Tears pool in Jihoon's eyes as he feels your breath against his ear, your whisper a soft, aching caress that resonates through his very soul. "I remember everything," you murmur, each word imbued with the gravity of eons of shared memories and unspoken yearnings. "I remember everything. Please don’t leave, Jihoon."

A tidal wave of emotion surges through Jihoon, an intoxicating mix of joy, relief, and incredulity at this miraculous convergence of fate. The chaos of the airport fades into obscurity as he clings to you, your embrace a sanctuary amidst the tumult of travelers and terminal announcements. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling the scent that rekindles a cascade of memories—each breath a journey back to the shared moments that had once bound them together.

“I can’t believe that it's you,” Jihoon whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. “I thought I lost you forever.”

You tighten your grip around him, your voice filled with conviction. “I couldn't let you go, not again.”

Around them, travelers rush past, oblivious to the profound moment unfolding. For Jihoon and you, time seems to stand still as you cling to each other, your hands intertwined as if anchoring yourselves against the uncertain currents of life. The sounds of announcements, footsteps, and rolling suitcases blend into a distant hum.

“Promise me,” Jihoon murmurs, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, “promise me we’ll never be apart again.”

You nod, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I promise.”

As airport security approaches, Jihoon’s grip around you tightens, his fingers refusing to let go. He senses the impending intrusion and instinctively draws you closer, pressing your head gently into the crook of his neck. His embrace is protective, shielding you from the sight of the security personnel who are making their way over to address the disturbance.

With a fierce determination, Jihoon’s eyes lock onto the approaching officers, silently pleading with them to respect the precious moment between the two of you. He keeps his voice low and steady, murmuring softly against your ear, “Just hold on a little longer.”

The security team hesitates, momentarily taken aback by Jihoon's unwavering stance. He subtly gestures to them, signaling that everything is under control. They read the unspoken command in his eyes and, after a brief pause, step back, giving you and Jihoon a moment of reprieve.

Jihoon gently loosens his embrace, just enough to glance at you. His movements are deliberate and careful, designed to keep you blissfully unaware of the escalating tension around you. His eyes scan the crowd, ensuring that no hint of anxiety reaches your serene expression. With tender precision, he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch feather-light, as though he’s afraid to disrupt the calm you maintain.

You respond with a kiss that is both soft and resolute, your lips lingering on Jihoon’s in a silent promise. “I’ll never leave you,” you murmur, your words floating between you like a lifeline amidst the surrounding chaos. The declaration is a small beacon of reassurance in the whirlwind of uncertainty.

Jihoon’s grip on your hand tightens once more, his fingers wrapping around yours with a fervent tenderness that conveys the depth of his love and commitment. His gaze, locked with yours, mirrors a profound sense of devotion and urgency. Together, you weave through the dense mass of passengers, each step a defiant push against the stream of hurried travelers.

The world around you blurs into a chaotic swirl of colors and noises, but in the cocoon of your intertwined hands and shared glances, you find a grounding solace. The chaos of the airport recedes into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your combined presence. In the eye of this storm, your connection becomes an unwavering anchor, a quiet sanctuary amidst the frenetic energy of the departing crowd.

Epilogue: Sunlit Mornings and Quiet Evenings

The morning sun wove its gentle rays through the sheer curtains of your cozy apartment, casting a soft, golden luminescence that bathed the room in a tranquil, ethereal light. The city outside stirred with its habitual, soothing hum—an ambient symphony that mirrored the serene sanctuary of your home. Within this peaceful cocoon, you lay tangled in the sheets, your body twisting restlessly as you resisted the arrival of dawn.

Suddenly, the comforting warmth of your husband’s presence beside you is absent, and you stir awake with a jolt. Your eyes scan the room in a sleepy haze, but he’s nowhere to be seen. A tantalizing hint of sweetness wafts through the air, pulling you from the clutches of sleep. The inviting aroma of breakfast being prepared reaches your senses, urging you out of bed.

With a yawn and a stretch, you push aside the covers. After your wedding night you've slept naked, never wanting to sleep next to your husband without being as close as you possibly could be. So, before venturing out of the bedroom, you slip into one of his oversized t-shirts. The shirt hangs loosely on your frame, its familiar scent a soothing reminder of him.

As you wander through your apartment, every corner of the space tells a story—a living mosaic of your journey together. The walls are adorned with mementos of your shared adventures, each item a tangible fragment of your love and history. You pause beside a framed photograph from your honeymoon in Greece, the sunlit image a cherished memory. A smile tugs at your lips as you take in the scene, savoring the warmth of the moment before continuing your path to the kitchen, where the promise of a lovingly prepared breakfast awaits.

In the kitchen, Jihoon stands by the stove, a vision of effortless grace and casual allure. His tousled golden hair catches the morning light, glinting with every subtle movement, while the faintest scent of him mingles with the aroma of breakfast. His bare back is a tapestry of finely honed muscles, each sinew and contour moving with fluid precision as he flips pancakes with a practiced ease. The soft, melodic hum that escapes his lips seems almost to dance in harmony with the sizzle of the batter on the pan.

The low-hanging pants he wears hang precariously from his hips, accentuating his sculpted form and adding to the mesmerizing tableau. His every motion, from the gentle arch of his back to the easy sway of his torso, is imbued with an innate elegance and strength. The sight is nothing short of breathtaking—an intoxicating blend of divine beauty and earthy charm that leaves you spellbound.

In moments like these, it’s impossible to forget that your husband is more than mortal. He embodies an otherworldly grace, a living testament to the godly allure that first drew you to him. His presence in the kitchen is a reminder of the timeless majesty and irresistible magnetism that defines him, making it clear why he remains an enduring marvel in your life.

The kitchen is enveloped in a warm, inviting aroma—the sweet scent of breakfast mingles seamlessly with the rich, comforting fragrance of freshly brewed coffee. You move softly across the tiled floor, barely making a sound as you approach Jihoon. With a gentle, affectionate touch, you slip your arms around his waist, your fingers splaying across his bare back. Leaning in, you press a series of tender kisses to his warm skin, savoring the intimate closeness.

“Good morning,” you whisper softly, your breath warm against him, carrying the lingering softness of sleep.

Jihoon turns in your embrace, his eyes meeting yours with a love that lights up his face. A smile of pure affection curves his lips. “Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?”

You nod, a gentle squeeze in return, your gesture a quiet testament to the comfort he brings you. Moving to the counter, you pour yourself a steaming cup of coffee, cradling the warm mug between your hands. The heat from the cup seeps into your fingers, chasing away the last vestiges of the morning chill and wrapping you in its comforting embrace.

“Thanks to you, I did,” you reply, your voice soft and filled with gratitude. “And you?”

Jihoon’s gaze turns back to the stove, his eyes reflecting a deep, unspoken affection. “Always better with you beside me,” he says, his tone a mix of warmth and adoration. “Breakfast will be ready in just a minute.”

While Jihoon tends to the pancakes, you set the table with practiced ease; placing down plates, and cutlery, and adding a bowl of freshly cut fruit alongside a pot of maple syrup. Their movements around the kitchen flow seamlessly, a choreography of shared routines and unspoken affection, each gesture a silent declaration of your love.

As Jihoon approaches the table with a stack of pancakes, you greet him with a warm, anticipatory smile. He pulls out your chair with a graceful gesture, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary, and you settle into your seat, feeling the subtle brush of his leg against yours as he takes the chair across from you.

The table is soon graced with a generous serving of pancakes, each one a masterpiece adorned with vibrant, fresh fruit and delicately drizzled with syrup that glistens like liquid gold. Jihoon’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction as he places the plate before you.

“Eat well,” he murmurs, his voice low and tender, carrying a note of affection.

You take a bite of the fluffy pancakes, the sweet syrup mingling with the fruit’s tang, and savor the deliciousness. Looking up with a playful glint in your eye, you tease him gently. “I was a bit disappointed to wake up alone this morning, but these pancakes make it all worth it.”

Jihoon chuckles softly, serving himself a portion as he takes his seat. “I had intended to bring you breakfast in bed, but you got up before I could,” he admits, his gaze warm and sincere. “I wanted to make sure you fully enjoyed your day off.”

You smile, a sense of contentment settling over you. “I’m sure I will,” you promise, your voice imbued with a mix of gratitude and anticipation, “especially with you by my side.”

You eat in comfortable silence, the morning light filtering through the curtains and casting a soft glow upon your faces. Your smiles spoke volumes, each glance exchanges a silent reassurance of your bond and the happiness you find in each other’s company.

“So.” Jihoon puts down his fork and pushes away his empty plate. “What’s the plan for today?”

You tilt your head in mock consideration, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Well, how about a leisurely walk in the park, a visit to the little bookstore we passed yesterday, and a cozy movie night at home?”

“That sounds perfect. I’ve been curious about that bookstore too.”

“Since when?” you question. “I haven’t seen you read since… I honestly don’t know.”

“I read your last article, don’t you remember? And I’ve been interested in the bookstore since you said that you’re interested in it,” he admits and shyly looks down at his empty plate.

A gentle warmth blooms on your cheeks, curling into a soft, loving smile. As you and Jihoon clear the table together, the morning unfolds like a tender embrace, filled with the harmonious sound of your shared laughter and lighthearted banter. The rhythmic clink of dishes and the hum of the dishwasher become a soothing melody that mingles with your voices, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.

Jihoon, with a playful sparkle in his eyes, splashes water towards you as he rinses a plate. You retaliate with a mischievous flick of soap suds, and the kitchen is soon filled with your shared laughter, echoing with the joy of simple pleasures. The routine of washing dishes and tidying up is transformed into a dance of affection, each gesture and glance deepening the bond you share.

As you finish the last of the dishes, Jihoon’s arms wrap around you from behind, his embrace enveloping you in warmth and security. His chin rests gently on your shoulder, and his breath, warm and intimate, caresses your ear as he murmurs, “I love mornings like these.”

You lean back into his embrace, savoring the comforting presence of his body against yours. “Me too,” you whisper, your voice a soft caress.

His lips brush your skin with a loving, delicate touch. As you gaze into his eyes, your heart swells with a profound affection, each moment together weaving a tapestry of love and connection. “I’m so grateful for you,” you say, your voice filled with deep emotion.

After finishing the morning cleanup, you both decide to embrace the tranquility of a park walk. Since your marriage, Jihoon has significantly reduced his public appearances, choosing to protect your shared privacy. This careful balance allows him occasional escapes from the spotlight, like now, avoiding the relentless attention of fans and paparazzi despite being in public. With enough money to ensure a comfortable life, the reduced pace of his music career is a manageable trade-off for both of you.

As you wander through the park, the world outside seems to melt away. The air is cool and invigorating, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass. The soft breeze glides over your skin, like a gentle caress that refreshes and revitalizes you with every breath. Above you, the canopy of trees forms a verdant mosaic, their leaves rustling softly in the wind. The play of light and shadow creates a dappled pattern on the path, enhancing the serene atmosphere.

Jihoon’s hand slips into yours, his warmth a comforting presence as you walk side by side. The rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot and the distant murmur of a babbling brook are soothing sounds that blend harmoniously with the peaceful ambiance of the park. Birds chirp melodically from the branches, their songs adding a natural soundtrack to your leisurely stroll.

The park seems to embrace you both, the landscape a serene backdrop to your shared moments. Each step you take together feels like a celebration of your connection, the conversation flowing effortlessly as you revel in each other’s company. The simple joy of this walk through nature, with its refreshing breeze and gentle rustle of leaves, deepens the bond you cherish, making it a cherished escape from the usual hustle and bustle of life.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Jihoon starts, his hand gently squeezing yours as you walk side by side. “We should visit that new art gallery downtown this weekend. I heard they have a fantastic exhibit on impressionist paintings.”

You nod enthusiastically, a smile lighting up your face. “That sounds wonderful! And maybe afterward, we can try that little café you’ve been raving about.”

“I haven't been raving about it" Jihoon playfully rolls his eyes, but he can't hide the red glow on his ears. “I’ve been dying to take you there. They have the best pastries in town.”

Your conversation flows naturally as you stroll through the park, seamlessly shifting from weekend plans to dreams for the future. The soft sounds of nature—birds chirping, leaves rustling in the gentle breeze—create a serene backdrop for your discussion.

"How about a trip to Japan?" you suggest, your gaze following a butterfly as it flutters gracefully by. "We could see the cherry blossoms in full bloom and stay in a traditional ryokan."

Jihoon’s eyes light up, and he nods with a smile. "That sounds perfect. Maybe next spring?"

"Definitely, next spring," you reply, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "It’s a promise."

You pause beside a serene pond, nestled like a hidden gem among the trees. The water’s surface is a flawless reflection of the sky’s soft blue, only disturbed by the occasional ripple created by ducks gliding smoothly across. Their gentle movements create a tranquil, rhythmic pattern that seems to harmonize with the rustling leaves overhead. Nearby, a charming bronze sculpture catches Jihoon’s eye—a whimsical figure of a child with outstretched arms, captured in an eternal moment of joy.

Jihoon’s eyes light up with a nostalgic twinkle, the warmth of his gaze reflecting his fondness for the place. “Every time we come here, it’s like discovering a new layer of this park’s personality. It feels like it holds little secrets just for us.”

You smile, letting out a soft, affectionate chuckle. “It’s one of those places that seems to change every time you visit. There’s always something new to notice.”

Jihoon’s expression turns contemplative, a trace of nostalgia softening his features. “Do you remember our first visit here?”

Your smile deepens as a tender warmth fills your heart. “I remember you managed to get us completely turned around, and we ended up racing home in the pouring rain. You kept insisting we were just ‘exploring new paths.’”

Jihoon laughs, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “I didn’t get us lost! We were ‘exploring new routes.’ And besides, the rain made it better. We were drenched, but you still managed to look incredible.”

You nudge him playfully, a playful grin on your face. “Right, I was the epitome of soaked chic... But it was worth it. We came back home, took a hot bath together... I still have the photo of you wrapped in towels, you know?”

Jihoon groans, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “You kept that?”

“Of course I did,” you reply, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s right next to the one where you’re wearing that ridiculously oversized apron.”

Jihoon’s eyes widen in mock horror. “Oh, don’t remind me! I had no idea flour could cause such chaos.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand with a shared sense of amusement. “It was one of the few times I was actually grateful for the fire extinguisher. But honestly, those moments are some of my favorites.”

Jihoon shakes his head, still chuckling. “I should be offended by your collection of embarrassing photos. But I have to admit, they do make for great stories.”

“They do,” you say, leaning in closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. “And you looked incredibly cute in both of them.”

Jihoon’s cheeks flush a tender pink at your compliment. He tries to mask his embarrassment by leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The kiss is gentle and filled with a sweet affection that sends a flutter through your heart.

When he pulls back slightly, his eyes sparkle with a playful warmth. “Well, if I’m cute, I guess I’ll just have to accept it,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

You reach up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, the touch intimate and affectionate. “You’ll have to accept it, and maybe start avoiding those memorable disasters.”

Jihoon laughs, his hand finding yours again, their fingers intertwining with ease. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, I think you secretly enjoy our little escapades.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling the strength of your connection grow deeper. “Maybe I do.”

You lean in for another kiss, savoring the warmth and softness of his lips against yours. As you pull away, both of you laugh softly, the sound blending with the peaceful ambiance of the park. The vibrant surroundings seem to echo the joy and affection between you, creating a perfect backdrop for your ongoing journey together.

Later on, as you meander through the cozy aisles of the bookstore, the atmosphere envelops you in a nostalgic embrace. The scent of aged paper and ink fills the air, mingling with the subtle murmur of pages being turned—a soft, soothing symphony that enhances the serene ambiance of the space. Shelves upon shelves of books create a labyrinth of literary wonders, each volume whispering its own story.

Jihoon, his eyes alight with curiosity, reaches for a book with a richly embossed cover and pulls it from the shelf. “Look at this one,” he says, holding it out to you. “It’s a collection of Greek myths. This is the book you used to love, right?”

You take the book from him, feeling the textured cover beneath your fingers. The spine creaks gently as you open it, revealing the delicate pages within. “Yes, I did. My grandmother used to read these stories to me before bed,” you reply, your voice tinged with fond memories.

Jihoon leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “To think you were obsessed with me even back then,” he teases with a playful smile, peering over your shoulder at the illustrations and text.

You smile, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. “Shut up,” you mutter with a playful tone. “Besides, I liked the Pegasus myth the most.”

He chuckles softly, a hint of mock exasperation in his voice. “Are you going to make me compete with a winged horse? What do you see in him that you don’t see in me?”

“Oh, stop it!” you laugh, flipping through the pages with a light-hearted gesture. “I just always found these stories fascinating. They were comforting, somehow.”

Jihoon’s playful demeanor softens, and his gaze turns tender as he gently places his hand over yours, his fingers lightly brushing against yours on the fine pages. “Then let’s get it. We can read them together… maybe pass on the tradition?”

You nod, your heart swelling with warmth at his thoughtful gesture. “I’d like that.”

The notion of starting a family has gently hovered on the periphery of your conversations, like a delicate, unspoken promise. It's a subject often delicately sidestepped in favor of addressing more immediate concerns, with the complexities of melding mortal and divine lives remaining a largely unexplored territory. Yet, Jihoon’s casual mention of passing on traditions stirs something deep within you—a whirlwind of dreams and possibilities wrapped in the warmth of tender, hopeful light.

As you both continue to browse through the bookstore, your thoughts drift to the future and the idea of nurturing a family together. The image of little ones running around, their laughter echoing through your home, begins to take shape in your mind. You envision how magical it would be to pass on stories of ancient myths, like the ones in the book Jihoon holds, to a new generation. These children could grow up hearing tales of gods and heroes, their lives intertwined with the rich tapestry of both mortal and divine worlds.

You imagine the joys and challenges of parenthood—how Jihoon would be a loving, albeit perhaps somewhat protective, father. You picture him sharing stories of his own experiences, creating a blend of wisdom and wonder for your future children. You think of the warmth of family gatherings, the shared laughter, and the little traditions you might create together, all grounded in the love and unity you share.

Jihoon's offhand remark about passing on traditions feels like a doorway opening to new possibilities, each one more enchanting than the last. As you both select books that reflect your shared tastes and interests, you feel the excitement of these future possibilities growing. The weight of the books in your arms seems symbolic of the future you're envisioning—a future that feels rich with potential and brimming with love.

As you head home, the golden rays of the afternoon sun filter through the trees, casting a warm, rosy glow across the sky. The gentle caress of the sun’s embrace wraps around you both, infusing the day with a serene and hopeful atmosphere. With each step, you find yourself daydreaming about the life you might build together—a life where the love and dreams you share become the foundation for a new chapter filled with the joy of family and the fulfillment of long-held aspirations.

As the evening settles into a serene hush, you and Jihoon find yourselves cocooned together on the plush couch, enveloped in the soft embrace of a cozy blanket. The room is bathed in the gentle glow of a muted TV screen, its light casting a warm, amber hue that mingles with the soft illumination of a nearby lamp. The air is filled with the subtle hum of background music, creating a soothing symphony that underscores the tranquil ambiance.

You and Jihoon, having eagerly awaited the release of this new movie, now savor the comfort of this intimate moment. You lean gently against him, your cheek resting against the steady rise and fall of his chest. The rhythmic heartbeat beneath your ear is a familiar and comforting pulse, grounding you in a sense of profound contentment.

In the quiet intimacy of the dimly lit room, Jihoon’s touch is tender and affectionate. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the crown of your head. The kiss is a silent promise, a gentle reassurance that transcends words. His hand moves with practiced ease over your arm, tracing delicate, soothing circles that seem to erase the day’s fatigue and envelop you in a cocoon of serenity.

The world outside seems to blur and fade, leaving just the two of you in this bubble of love and peace. The movie plays in the background, its muted colors and subdued soundtrack a mere backdrop to the profound connection you share. You are wholly absorbed in the simple joy of being together, relishing the quiet and precious closeness that defines this moment.

Every shared glance, every unspoken word, deepens the bond between you. It is in these small, tender gestures that you discover the true depth of your affection—an understanding that goes beyond words, wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence. You realize how deeply you cherish these peaceful evenings, where time slows, and all that matters is the warmth of Jihoon’s embrace and the serenity of being together.

“I love you,” Jihoon whispers, his voice a gentle caress that fills the space between you with a tender warmth.

You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes reflecting a world of emotions that words cannot capture. “I love you, too."

As the movie’s credits roll and the room grows dim, you and Jihoon linger on the couch, savoring the last moments of your quiet evening together. The gentle hum of the TV becomes a soft murmur, blending seamlessly with the soothing sounds of your shared breaths and the rhythmic thump of Jihoon’s heartbeat.

Jihoon stretches lazily, wrapping an arm around you as he begins to stand. “Do you want to head to bed?” he asks, his voice a tender murmur, his eyes still reflecting the warmth of the evening.

You nod, your smile a silent agreement as you rise from the couch. The blanket drapes over your shoulders like a comforting embrace as you follow Jihoon toward the bedroom. The walk is slow and unhurried, each step infused with a peaceful contentment.

Once in the bedroom, Jihoon turns down the covers with practiced ease, his movements gentle and considerate. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm light over the room, creating a haven of tranquility. You slip into bed first, savoring the cool, crisp sheets that contrast with the lingering warmth of the evening. Jihoon joins you shortly after, his presence a comforting weight beside you.

You both settle into the bed, your bodies naturally aligning as if they’ve done so countless times before. Jihoon wraps his arms around you, pulling you close until you can feel the steady, soothing rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. The proximity is intimate, each touch and sigh a testament to the deep connection you share.

“Goodnight, my love,” Jihoon whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

You turn slightly in his embrace, your face nestled against his chest. “Goodnight."

The world outside fades away, leaving only the cocoon of your shared warmth and the soothing cadence of your breaths mingling in the quiet.

As sleep begins to take you, Jihoon’s fingers gently stroke your arm, each touch a silent declaration of his love. “I love you,” he whispers again, as if to make sure that you really know it, his voice barely audible as he too begins to drift off.

“I love you, too,” you reply softly, your words merging with the soft sounds of the night. “Always.”

Wrapped in each other’s arms, you both surrender to the peaceful embrace of sleep, the world outside remaining distant and irrelevant. In the stillness of the night, you find solace and joy in the certainty of your bond, drifting into dreams with hearts full and souls entwined.

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